#in context this is a good thing! they were testing to see if I have rheumatoid arthritis

[tj-crochets]

I've got another thing to add to my list of top five funniest things doctors have said to me: My latest test results came back, and I now have a document saying I have, and I quote, "unremarkable hands"

[vargaslovinghours]

∞, I mean 8, my mistake (1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7)

Starting off with a sad Edgar, aw :( So pensive, watching the fire by his lonesome

Not for long of course! The kerning’s all funny but I really liked Scriabin’s “You’re so extra” haha. It’s symbolic! Throwing it out just wouldn’t do

Both considering the implications, heads leaned in <3

Scriabin can never just comfort him normally lol, trying to downplay his attachment so he’ll stop being sad faster won’t work! Just adding to it!

Stop undermining Edgar, he’s trying to be a parent over here! Anything is worth seeing Todd smile hehe

Moving doodles, I may have gotten momentarily distracted at the thought of some Lady!Edgar pinup-style poses that maybe showed off her muscles a little bit. Possibly

Just momentarily, like I said. She’s just so pretty!

Taking a breather, it’s no good to move heavy stuff if it makes you dizzy! Get a refresh on electrolytes

Scriabin is being obnoxious, as usual haha ♪ These memories will last forever, thank goodness

>:P ♥

Just a nice quiet moment for Scriabin by himself for a change :) He’s hiding, don’t let him fool you lol

I mean, it’s at least a little funny if someone’s laughing

The original of the second to last panel! I still think I did a pretty seamless edit >:3c He’s cute here, just a little too alien eyes haha

Some more Baby Todd AU at his canon age, young kids can take almost anything in stride

Not being able to pick on him will not stand though! I also like to think that Todd’s vocabulary is slightly more advanced from Edgar raising him hehe ♥

I mean, technically Edgar is way older that Scriabin and he’s so pretty, so

Enjoying some treats together as a family :D Edgar’s such a polite nibbler haha

I started a new fic after half-dreaming it into existence, surprisingly not about the Holos! Similar tho

Or is it????? Lol

It’s him! The bauble man! Him and his big chunky sleeves haha, he keeps popping up wherever there’s Hellfire hm ♪

Yeah, don’t get it mixed >:0 It’s very obvious!

Look just don’t worry about it, this whole concept is scuffed lol

Dating Sim ideas! Of course even while inviting the player back to his place, he’s only thinking about how it would rile up Edgar lol, multitasker

I wouldn’t know how to visualize this apart from just like - showing his thoughts directly onscreen which feels? inconsistent, Scriabin’s not usually the open book of the two to the audience but! Him posing the same question to Edgar and getting a way to ping him was too fun to pass up haha

Plus he gets a “poof-poof” thought bubble collapse which I thought was funny haha ♪ He immediately takes the player’s interest as a way to mess with them of course!

Stop stripping in public >:0

Edgar’s also quite the multitasker, thinking of how Scriabin would react to an emotionally honest moment of getting closer with the player :) Not only would he hate that Edgar was getting closer to them, but ew, Edgar emotions, gross lol

This is how emotionally honest conversations usually go, right? Crying and big feelings?

They both get a poof hehe ♪ The Player likes Edgar too, but hmmmm, something about this feels different...

There aren’t the usual highs and lows with the Player like they have with each other, is this how it’s supposed to feel? Both having their doubts! I also just really like this pose, whenever they’re leaned against each other I just ♥ ah

I keep wanting to draw Scriabin with a cigarette in his mouth, I can’t explain it! Not even smoking, just, between his teeth :0

Cool guy ✨ Don’t do drugs tho hehe

Cute little lad <3 I’m still rather a fan of drawing his shines behind his hair like this, two-tone!

Sick scribbles. You two are so susceptible to mono I swear

Strongly considering an animation meme 👀 Probably an easy guess as to which meme this is, but there were a couple scratch panels that I thought were especially cute, mirroring each other on a not-so-tasty bite haha

Thoughts orbiting around You Can’t Live Like This, the thought of them getting back into each other’s heads after what they’ve gone through, ah <3 It’s so sweet! Take up the usual snuggle position

Gotta tease him tho ♥

There would be a lot of Big Feelings to sift through, and now that they’ve had a little practice at emotional intimacy- It might get to be a little much tho haha

At least he has the option to go cool down by himself now! He didn’t have that before

If I can’t see you, you can’t see me :(

I ended up doing the colour swatching lol, though I realized while grabbing colours that from some angles, Todd’s hair is actually darker than the Vargases! Huh :0 He’s using an old art shirt, probably a hand-me-down from Devi hehe <3 Also got a speed draw! :D

Establishing some rules with Jake’s help, starting with a Hard No. Something else, maybe a soft yes... [Scriabin will remember that]

Lady!Scriabin testing her limits, and simultaneously trying to open Lady!Edgar up to some boundary-stomping. Scriabin’s not being weird, you’re being weird if you don’t let her touch you! You want to be normal, don’t you? Like either of them have a good grasp on normal haha

She lets her get away with a lot, but it does feel nice so hm ♪

Edgar can be a good cook, add in some magic and it’d be so yummy! He looks so pleased haha ♥

Sensitive to smell - did he eat something snakes don’t like? Walk through some strong perfume? Just hasn’t showered?? Who knows

(It was Nny, it’s Nny’s smell lol)

Speaking of Nny- But haven’t you heard it’s what’s on the inside that counts?? Like Scriabin, he’s inside, vivisection would be easy for him lol

He got cut up anyway, poor lad haha. And a hastily scribbled Stitch Zombie!Edgar since I think he’s an interesting concept :)

He’s got a whole bunch of halos, why not make one into a spiky collar? That’s gotta hurt his hand tho, if not the flame then the sharp edges

I can’t find the post, but the etymology of incubus vs. succubus being about Position rather than Species or Gender - Scriabin does like to take a proactive role haha

“Heal up!” A cute little two-frame for a trade with @brusk-ghost​, those magical mental bandages, nearly as good as an F1 haha

Relaxing(?) makeout sesh, no rush no fuss ✨

Shut up, stop talking, just kisses >:0

Decided to go rewatch some oldish speedpaints and got inspired by the cute chibis ♪ Heart mouth! ♥

I found a song that I thought really fit the early chapters and gave me a terrible itch to draw Edgar in bandaids again, as well as some of the setpieces from then - all to transition him to his Final Form haha

“Edgar,” in case it wasn’t clear lol, basically a model sheet. He looks so cute! Stop scratching, you’ll never heal at this rate ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Squish, shhhh, no talking pls, it’s Scriabin’s turn

The eternal battle, simplified down to its base (lol), I like how Scriabin’s bangs turned out here as well :D

Fighting over him! They’re both so intense, and then there’s Edgar in the middle like “Must we though” haha

More Baby Todd stuff because it’s so cuuuuute ahhh ♥ Matching outfits with Shmee and cute baby photos in little waders and a froggie raincoat, ah <3

Dual(?) income, one kid, bit shaky on the finances. That’s quitter’s talk, it’s not about how much you have, it’s how you use it! That’s bad encouragement actually lol

He does not know, but he gets the gist of it

I started a very self-indulgent comic as a kind of memoriam, and the cuteness of papa Edgar bringing little Todd to church and crossing over him since he’s too small, ah! Scriabin finds it ridiculous of course haha

Church sanctuaries are really fun actually, and they look so cute, so cartoony in the foreground ♪

Little Todd is still shy, not that Edgar’s much better with strangers haha. Being The Adult™ in the situation can be a confidence booster ✨

More religious stuff, I was watching a review of a terrible B movie and was hit with the idea of Edgar as a priest of one of my DnD Homebrew Gods, which would be terrible for him haha ♪ Which makes it all the more fun!

Spacefiller Edgar, with the same phrasing! I just like him asking haha

Style thief! I’ve been wanting to draw him with Ariel’s bangs for a while haha, it’s silly

A silly doodle of Snake Charmer!Diaryfic!Edgar. How would that work? I also don’t know lol, just roll with it

Caught blushin’ u///u

He’s always being obnoxious! He’s very practiced!

Scriabin: *exists* Edgar: Oh gosh oh heck oh frick ❤️💕💖💞❤️💖💕

Yet more Hunchback doodles, though maybe not obviously so at first glance haha - I was very inspired by the image of Scriabin making out with someone in silhouette at a party lol

I’d never listened to the Hunchback’s Tavern Song until I was directed towards it - these lines really do suit Edgar, repressed as he is. He’s so envious, but also so reticent! Creep, watching ♪

But who was Scriabin making out with?

It was Phoebus!Jake!

Serious boy

I don’t know why but nekomimi (and wolf!Scriabin - inumimi? Okamimimi??? lol) hit all of a sudden, it’s so silly! But also very cute haha

Twitch twitch twitch stop it twitch. He just wants to play!

I finally (accidentally) listened to Pretty When You Cry and, yeahh,,,

It really is a song for them, dang. Adam gave up his rib to make the very snake that tempts him!

Another Just Desserts Joel, off the back of a kitty study, it just doesn’t work for the chibi animal style! Don’t like! Lol

The Dragons return, Edgar is bemused watching Scriabin show off his teeth because he’s just so formidable and scary haha

He could probably just barely fit his mouth around Edgar’s snoot, but it is also funny to see him just chomp lol

Quit it D:<

Considering Edgar could probably fit Scriabin’s entire head in there, maybe back off just a little bit. I mean, unless that sounds fun lol

A warmup to try and get back into the swing of drawing them, which is maybe a little ironic since the rate has slowed again haha ♪ Good practice nonetheless! And they’re cute <3

There’s September through February again! Still chock-a-block with ideas but it’s been nice to take it slow :) Not that the number is much indication haha, I think this might be the longest yet?? Dangin’

[cheapshrimpysheep]

Pocky Game

SUMMARY: How would they react if you asked them to play Pocky with you? Do they already know the game? How do they act while playing? And who is the first to finish the biscuit stick and kiss the other?

CHARACTERS: All NRC students (except Ortho)

TAGS: Fluff; GN Reader; Bullet Points; Kissing; suggestive?

WORD COUNT: An average of 310 words per character.

COMMENTS: I had this idea for some time but only now did I write it down. I don't know what else to tell to you other than: I hope you enjoy 😘

CONTEXT: The Pocky game is a party game played with Pocky, a Japanese chocolate- or candy-coated biscuit snack. Two participants place the Pocky between them “Lady and the Tramp” style, and try to be the last to hold onto the biscuit, often resulting in a kiss.

Since it's a game similar to the famous scene from "Lady and the Tramp" where they eat spaghetti, my headcanon is that this game exists in Twisted Wonderland.

How to play:

Pick a partner that you wouldn't mind kissing.

Face your partner and put a Pocky stick between you. Each partner takes an end of the Pocky stick in their mouth.

Each partner bites their end of the Pocky stick until their mouths meet in the middle. The first person to pull away loses!

Riddle has no idea what this game is, you'll have to explain it to him. “So, if I understand correctly, you lose if you pull away and you win if you keep eating the biscuit stick. Very well. It sounds simple. But is there any purpose to the game? Is it some kind of endurance test?” You say, in a way, it can be seen like that. He smiles.“I see. Are there any other rules I should be aware of before we begin?” You say no, that you already explained everything.

You put the biscuit stick in your mouth and point the other side at him for him to bite. He does so and you begin the game. The closer he gets to your face the more he will blush. Until he starts having difficulty looking you in the eye and diverts his attention to the biscuit stick, which makes him make a cute face.

When there is only one bite left to finish the game, it is his turn and he pulls away. “W-wait!” The only times he gets redder than he already is is when he's angry, but of course this was not the case. “You never said there was a possibility that neither of us would pull away. If we both continue eating the biscuit stick until the end, what happens? Because if we had continued...” He looks away, embarrassed.

You apologize because you thought finding out during the game would have been a fun surprise. But you didn't know he wouldn't like the idea of... kissing you.

“What? No, no! It's not that I don't like the idea, I actually really wish I had done it... it's just that... I didn't know that it was the objective and I didn't want to, you know, be ill-mannered in case you...” Then he gets slightly upset with you. “You should have warned me! You lied to me when you said there were no more rules.” He smirks confidently. “If you were a student of Heartslabyul, it would have been off with your head for this. But I will allow you to play again and if I consider the end of the game satisfactory, you will have my forgiveness.”

In the second round, even though it's his turn, he will stop and hesitate, he wants you to be the one to consent. So you take the last bite and kiss him. You feel his lips relax. And If you deepen the kiss, he will reciprocate and hug you, pulling you towards him by the waist.

Ace knows this game so well that it's not you who invites him to play, it's he who invites you. “You also bought a box? Ha ha ha, we thought the same thing. That's a good sign.” He winks at you and smirks. “What box do we start with?”

While you play, he looks you in the eyes with a mischievous and provocative look, to see when you will chicken out and lose. The longer this takes, the more he will smile and the more smug his look will become. His face reminds you of a sly cat.

When there's only one bite left for your lips to meet, he stops, to let you choose whether to kiss him or give up and lose, while he looks you in the eyes defiantly.

If you finish the game and kiss him, his eyes will widen in surprise, but soon after that he will close his eyes and you will feel his lips form a triumphant smile. He place a hand on the back of your head to deepen the kiss.

He's the one who breaks the kiss with the most smug smile he's capable of. “Wow, chill out. We still have a lot of biscuit stick to play with.” There is a pause in which you reply. “What do you mean I was more excited than you?!” He blushes. “Lie! You were enjoying it as much as I was!... Wait! I mean...” He blushes even more. “You know what, let's play again to find out.” He smirks again.

The name of the game is not unfamiliar to Deuce, but you’ll have to remind him what kind of game it was. You explain the rules to him, that both players eat the biscuit stick from one side and the first one to pull away loses. “Okay, so whoever finishes the biscuit stick first wins?” He asks and you confirm.

“I see. So let's... wait! What happens if none of us pull away?” He asks innocently. You suggest that he finds it out while you play. And he trusts you, so he accepts the suggestion.

You put the biscuit stick in your mouth and point for him to bite the other side. He does so, and as your faces get closer he begins to blush.

As the two of you take bites, it seems to bring out his competitive side, causing him to pay more attention to his bites of the cookie than to the fact that he's getting so close to you.

He's the one who takes the last bite and kisses you. But he'll quickly jump away and start apologizing. “Sorry, I didn't mean to- I mean I didn't think- expected-” He stammers, unable to finish a sentence and almost as red as when his Housewarden gets angry.

If he sees you looking sad or disappointed because it looks like he didn't want to kiss you, he'll immediately tell you that's not the case! Clumsily, and stumbling over his words.

“Wait... that... that's what you wanted? T-To kiss me?” The poor boy is a little slow. But now that he's realized this, he's going to try to muster up all the confidence he can and suggest that you try it again. And if you take out another biscuit stick to play again he'll be like: "Ah, yes! Try again the game, yes. That... that's what I meant, haha”

Cater was the one who had the idea. And it was probably trending on Magicam. He will ask you to play in the cutest way that only he knows how to ask. “Oh, you know this game too? So you can play with me right? Right, [Y/N]-chan~? You're not going to tell me that you've already played this with other people and you're not going to play it with me. You're going to make Cay-kun very sad, and a little jealy~.”

If you accept, he'll ask you if he can film you two playing. He promises not to post it on Magicam if you don't want him to, but the footage will be so cute that he'll at least want to keep it as a souvenir for himself. “Pretty please~?”

He will play like it's any other game, while looking sweetly into your eyes. Yes, he is taking the opportunity to flirt with you. If you get embarrassed, even just a little bit, he'll find it super cute.

He will let you take the last bite and decide whether to kiss him or not, while he looks at you seductively as a way to convince you to kiss him.

If you do, you'll feel his lips form a smile as he deepens the kiss. One of his hands on top of one of yours and the other on your cheek.

After the kiss, he will stay very close to you, wanting to hug you and with his forehead touching yours, laughing. Like those couples on social media.

Trey recognizes the name. “It's that game where two people eat the same biscuit stick until they meet in the middle, right?” He smiles awkwardly. “Isn't it usually played between crushes?”

If you answer yes in a way that makes him understand that that is exactly why you want to play with him, he'll give you that rare smirk of his, and chuckles. “Okay. I'll be happy to play with you.”

Even though he knows how the game works, he will let you have more control over the game. You'll take the first bite and he'll follow, as if the fun part for him was seeing you having fun and not the game itself.

He will be smiling sweetly the whole game, but when only the last bite is left, his smile turns into a smug as he looks into your eyes, and he kisses you, kindly and relaxedly. Then he'll pull away with that smug still on his face and he'll even lick his lip.

“Well, I guess we both won. That's what you wanted, right? Did I play well?” His expression is a mix of his gentle side with the rare cheeky side. “Oh,you would like I hadn't pull away so soon? Sorry, I'm still getting used to the rules of the game. I don't mind playing it again if you want. It was fun. With or without the biscuit stick.”

Yes, Leona knows what game this is, and he will tease you for wanting to play it. “Isn't that a cubs's play? How cute.” he says lying in the botanical garden, as always. “And why are you asking me to play? Do I look like someone who plays these games?”

You take that as a no (or at least as a 'try to convince me') So you say that if he doesn't want to, you'll find someone else to play with. Points if you say something like: "Maybe Tsunotarou would like to play with me."

“OI! I never said no! But if you want, you'll have to play with me lying down, because I'm not going to get up to make you that favour.”

He just straightens his head, resting it against the base of a tree before you begin. He opens his mouth for you to put the biscuit stick in his mouth. The only thing he'll do is bite that whenever it's his turn.

At first, his expression is neutral, almost bored. But every time your face gets a little closer to his, a smug smile forms on his lips. In the last bite, not only is he smiling, he's looking you in the eyes like a greedy predator.

He takes the last bite, attacking you with a kiss. He's been standing still the whole game, so when he does that you almost get a jump scare. Just like felines preparing to attack.

But he doesn't just attack you with the kiss. At the same time he puts his hands on your waist and makes you lie underneath him.

He breaks the kiss for a moment and looks at you to see your reaction with the most smug smile on his face. “As if this wasn't why you asked me to play with you. Now deal with the consequences.”

Jack doesn't know what game it is, but maybe he's heard the name somewhere. You'll have to explain it to him.

“Okay, it sounds like a simple game. And... You want to play it with me?” He says rubbing his neck. You say yes and if he wants too. “I... I think I don’t mind.” He says wagging his tail.

If you insist on knowing if he is really sure he wants to play with you, he will stop beating around the bush and tell you bluntly: “Yes. Yes, I would like to play it with you.” But blushing a liiittle bit.

You are the first one to put the biscuit stick in your mouth. He will follow you. He'll be flattered the whole game. He's never played a game so... intense for him.

Whenever your eyes meet, he looks away and his ears lower.

When there's only one bite left he'll stop and let you decide whether you want your lips to meet or not.

If you kiss him, his ears will immediately stand up straight! And if you don't pull away, he will relax, his ears will go back down, and he’ll deepen the kiss.

And you might be surprised when that shy boy a minute ago, suddenly pulls you close to him by your waist and turns the kiss into a passionate one. His tail wagging like crazy, by the way.

And as suddenly as he brought you closer to him, he will pull away, embarrassed for having let himself be carried away.

He will start apologizing and if you want to keep the flame burning, the best option is to shut him up with another kiss. He will love that.

A game that involves eating? Sign Ruggie up! A game that involves sharing food? “Hum... In that case I should have something else for the halves I let you eat.” He bargains with you.

You can try to dissuade him with something like: “But it's just a silly game. And it's just a biscuit stick.” But he will respond with: “It could even be a freshly picked dandelion, I don't play with food.” He's telling the truth, but trying to appear playful.

You suggest giving him the entire box if he plays with you once. But play the game the way it should be played, not finding a way to play around the rules just so he can keep the box. “Shye hee hee. Don't worry, I have no reason to do that.”

You're the first one to put the biscuit stick in your mouth and wait for Ruggie to start eating the other side. But he looked at you and the cookie with a mischievous look, came closer, opened his mouth and... ATE ALMOST THE ENTIRE THING IN ONE BITE! Leaving you just one bite away from placing your lips against his and ending the game. His gaze was cutely mischievous.

If you finish the game and kiss him, he will hold it for a second just to see if you don't pull away. And when he realizes that you are enjoying the kiss, he will grab you by the waist and deepen the kiss. And there is only one way to describe his kiss: Greedy

Azul doesn't recognize the name of the game, but when you explain it to him he realizes it's a land version of one that exists under the sea. And he'll ask you if he can see the box.

He glances at the front, but then turns it over to see the ingredients list on the back. He's counting the calories, isn't he? You try telling him something like, “Come on, it's just a silly game. Just a little biscuit stick.”

But to your surprise, he starts talking about how a game can be a brilliant marketing strategy, to wonder if he could incorporate those biscuit stick into a dessert on the Mostro Lounge menu and whether the students would be interested. You ask for his attention again.

“I’m deeply sorry for wandering off in thoughts while you were talking to me, but I heard everything you said, don't worry. And since you just gave me an idea for a special new item on the Mostro Lounge menu, the least I can do is accept your invitation to play. That might teach me more about this product. And... that way we’ll be even, correct?” He adjusts his glasses.

His confidence starts to slip as the game starts and he realizes how close your face is to his, and how close it will be by the end of the game. He tries his best to remain unmoved and maintain eye contact with you, but he can't stop the blush from appearing on his face.

When there's only one bite left, he stops so you can take the last one and decide whether the kiss happens or not.

If you do, you will feel the tension in his lips, but he will not break the kiss. And if you don't do it either, it will start to relax and deepen it. The tension turns into a smile and you feel his hands cupping your face.

Jade doesn't recognize the name of the game, and asks you if you could explain to him how to play and what it consists of. He recognizes the description as the land version of a game that also exists under the sea.

“Ah yes, I believe I understood how this game works.” Then he gives you that deceptive smile he does when his true intentions are suspicious but hard to tell. “And you chose me to play it with you? Well, I'm honored. I'm more than eager to partake in this land activity with you of all people.”

You are the first one to put the biscuit stick in your mouth. He follows you with a calm smile. But the eyes, they're focused on yours, intensely.

He follows the instructions you explained at the beginning, imperturbably, as if he were truly just following the rules of a simple game. But that was just what he showed. From the look in his eyes you could tell there was much more behind this behaviour.

He always shows himself so passive that it almost came as a surprise to you when he took the last bite like an attacked to kiss you. But his eyes weren't completely closed, just half closed. As if he was observing you and studying you while enjoying the kiss.

And when you start to deepen the kiss, he pulls away, with a charming and dangerous smirk on his face. “It seems that we ended the game in a draw. That is not usually a very exciting outcome, is it. Perhaps we should play another round. And perhaps... make up some new rules of our own. Wouldn't that be interesting?”

Floyd doesn't recognize the game by the name you said, but if your description makes it seem fun in some way, he'll agree to play with you. The problem is that it seems boring to him. It's just eating a cookie. What's so special about that?

You decide to reveal to him that the real reason people play it is to get a kiss from their crush at the end. This makes him smile mischievously. “Aaaah~ So that's why you want to play with me, isn't it Koebi-chan~?” The smile becomes cute. “And what is my reward if I play?”

You say if he doesn't want to kiss you he can just not play. And he sulks. “Ehh? That's not what I said. I want to know what I gain by playing.” He smirks. “Because I don't need to play to get a kiss, do I?” He pauses for a moment to appreciate your reaction. His cute smile returns. “Ah! I know, why don't you give me the box of biscuit stick as payment?” And then he says in that deep voice through the sinister smile. “You're not going to play with anyone else, are you?”

If you accept he'll be like ‘YAY. Let's play then! :3’. You are the one who puts the biscuit stick in the mouth first and he follows with a relaxed look and smile. He follows the rules like you said, but it seems like he's more focused on you than the stick, as if he was amused watching your movements and reactions.

He leaves the last bite for you, watching you with mischievous eyes and an amused smile. If you take the last bite and kiss him, he won't move, not even return the kiss, to see how long you can hold out like that.

When you break the kiss disappointed he will say with a smirk: “Aww, Why so sad? Wasn't it the win you wanted? I told you the game was boring.” He takes the box from your hand, and he wraps an arm around you to pull you close to him. “Now if you still want to make out, you should just do it you know? I'm in the mood so don't waste it.”

Kalim doesn't know what game it is but he accepts any invitation to play anything. He's like: “Of course I'll play with you! Hum... what game is that again?” And after you explain he will say with his big enthusiastic smile: “Sounds fun! I know I can't accept food from other people, but it's you, even Jamil says it's okay accepting things from you. So how do we start?”

You are the one who puts the biscuit stick in your mouth and points it to the other end for Kalim to bite. He does so with a cute, innocent smile.

He seems to be having fun playing. When there is only one bite left to finish the game, it is his turn, and he ends the game giving you an extremely loving kiss. Like a smooch.

He breaks the kiss with a huge happy smile on his face. “Ha ha! This is fun! Can we play again?”

He will make you play with him until the box is empty. And when he asks to play again and you say that the cookies are gone, he will say: “Ow, I was having so much fun. You too? That's great! We should buy more. I'll pay for all of them.”

When you go to the Mystery Shop to buy more and Kalim discovers that there are several flavours, he will buy ALL OF THEM! All of the ones that Sam has? Yes, because Sam, somehow and at that moment, has ALL OF THEM THAT EXIST!

Jamil knows the game because he's heard of it, If not from schoolmates, then from his sister or something. “Isn't that the game where two people eat a biscuit stick to kiss at the end?” He says this with a neutral face, but then he makes that smug face, with one eyebrow raised. “And you want to play it with me? *chuckle* Fine. I don't see why not. I just have one question: Will you allow me to finish the game however I want?”

You say that as long as you follow the basic rules, he can end the game however he wants. “In that case, don't forget that you were the one who allowed it.” He says.

You put the biscuit stick in your mouth, but before he bites the other side, he puts a finger on your chin to tilt it a little and only then bites the biscuit stick.

He plays the whole game with that cocky smile. This is one of those rare moments where he lets his cheeky side show.

When there's only one bite left, he lets you decide how the game ends. The moment you touch your lips to his he will grab you and pull you towards him to deepen the kiss in the blink of an eye. Like a snake biting its prey in a single moment.

And then, he breaks the kiss, licking his lips, and still with his arms around your waist. “You're the one who said I could end it however I wanted as long as I followed the rules.” He says with a smirk and brings his lips closer to your ear. “I hope you haven't regret it.”

Yes, Vil knows this game. There was a time when it became very popular and he usually keeps up with those trends. Especially because sometimes they are incorporated into teen shows. “If I ever participated in one of those scene? No. No offence to the genre but I prefer to participate in films and genres that are less... melodramatic. That and IF I were cast in one of those shows there would be little chance of me getting the love interest role. I am perfectly aware that I’m more of a ‘mean girl’ type.” He says with a certain pride in both his voice and his face.

“And you want to play it with me?” He smirks charmingly. “My dear, you and probably all my fans. I hope you know that if I accept, firstly what a privilege and honor it is, and secondly, that this must remain between us. *chuckle* Well, if you understand that, then perhaps I can give you that pleasure.”

He lets you be the first to put the biscuit stick in your mouth and extend the other side to him, inviting him to bite. He does so with elegance and as if he were following some kind of etiquette for that game that you didn't even know could exist. That and he even places his index finger and thumb on your chin to adjust your posture while playing.

When there's only one bite left, it's his turn. He closes his eyes and kisses you gently and delicately. He'll stay like that for a second before breaking the kiss, and lovely looking at you with a soft smile.

“I must admit it was more satisfying than I expected. Thank you for inviting me to play. I shall be the one inviting you next time.”

Epel's never heard of that game, mostly because he's never been interested in that kind of stuff. So you explain it to him. But he doesn't quite understand why that would be fun. “So two people eat a biscuit stick from each side until someone pull away? But what if no one pull away-... wait... Don't tell me the goal is to kiss at the end!?”

When you confirm, his surprised expression begins to turn red. “A-and you want to play it... WITH ME?! No, it's not that I don't want to. I mean...! Hum... you just caught me off guard. But... yes, I... would like to play with you too.” He ends up agreeing with a sweet smile.

He starts playing a little shyly, but as you two take bites he starts to see it as a real game and his competitive side gives him confidence. So much so that when the last bite arrives and he takes it, kissing you, he only realizes it too late.

He quickly pulls away, blushing profusely! He stumbles over his words as he apologizes, because at the same time he also remembers that that was the intention of the game.

“EH! Wait! This is what you wanted, isn't it? Why am I apologizing? Oi! Are you laughing at me? Fine! Let's play again!” He gives you that confident smirk. “And this time, I'm not pulling away! I'm warning you!”

The second time you play he is definitely more confident. And he keeps his word, as soon as you kiss again, he doesn't pull away. His lips start out tense, but they relax as he forgets about the game and enjoys the kiss.

Of course Rook knows this game! A fun excuse for two lovebirds to kiss? How would he not know something like that? “Oh, and would you like me to have the honor of being your playmate? Mais bien sûr, Trickster! It will be my greatest pleasure.” He smiles enthusiastically.

“May I have the honours?” He asks, holding out his hand for you to hand him the box. He takes one of the biscuit stick and puts it in his mouth, inviting you to bite the other side and start the game.

He plays with a big “innocent” smile on his face. But eventually, as your faces get closer, his eyes change to that hunter's gaze.

When there's only one bite left for your lips to meet, he stops and lets you decide whether to take the last bite or pull away, while he fixes his intense gaze on you, observing you. Yes, he likes to hunt, but part of hunting is also setting traps and waiting for the prey to fall into them.

If you finish the game and kiss him, you will feel the smile he already had grow and the kiss becoming sweeter and more passionate. His hands cupping your face, him bringing his body closer to yours, and then one of the hands slowly leaving your face to end at your lower back.

When he finally releases your lips, he's looking at you with desire. “Très bien Trickster. Your lips are sweeter than the chocolate in the biscuit stick.” He brings his lips closer to yours again. “And now, I so ache to taste that mixture of flavours again. Would you allow me to play this once more with you? There are some sensations I would like to introduce you to, as a token of my gratitude.”

Ooh, Idia knows very well what game you are talking about. Probably for the same reasons that you know it too. “Do you think you're in an Otome game or something?” He mocks you with that smug smile. “And even if you wanted to live that fantasy, why me?” he sulks. ”Do you think I would be the only one to fall for this ‘cause of the games I play? That's a bit mean, don't you think? Or did the association of one thing with the other make you feel pity for me? I'm sure any student with good taste would love to play this with you, you don't need to invite me just because no one would do it with me.”

You tell him, in the form of a scolding, that you want to play with HIM! Not out of pity, but because you like him. And maybe, just maybe, you expressed it quite bluntly because of the adrenaline of being upset with him at the moment.

“Y-y-you like me?! C'mon, why would you?” You two continue to argue until he says something like: “FINE! I'll play with you, but when you lose because you pull away at the first bite, don't blame me.”

He's the one who reaches into the box and takes out a biscuit stick to put in his mouth and points the other end at you with an almost annoyed look on his face. Which looks more like a pout.

You take a bite, he takes another and so on. As your faces get closer, to your surprise, he seems to become more confident. Do you really want to play? He'll show you how a game is won! The heat of competitiveness escalates because of the dangerous mix of stubbornness of the two involved.

When there's only one bite left, it's his turn, and he's already so heated up by the game that he finishes it as if he were making the final strick. Turning your kiss into a surprisingly passionate attack.

But only for a second, until he opened his eyes in disbelief and immediately pulled away with his hair bursting pink, and the paleness of his face contrasting with his blush.

“I-I-I warned you!” He sees you smiling, and his smugness strikes with full force. “Oh! So you weren't just baiting, you really wanted it. Fine then. Next round! And this time I'm not going to chicken out in victory, you hear?”

Malleus is already beaming with joy that you invited him to something. The fact that it's a game only makes him even more excited. Even though he has no idea what game that is. You just explain the rules, that two people eat the same biscuit stick until someone pulls away and that person loses.

“I see. It seems like a simple game to play. But what happens if neither player pulls away?” You decide to respond with: ‘Why don't we play to find out?’ He laughs ans smirks. “Fearless as ever, Child of Man. Are you truly not concerned about what might happen if you withhold information from me? Fu fu. Very well. We shall see how our game ends.”

You put the biscuit stick in your mouth and point the other side at him for him to bite. He does it with a loving smile, and tries to take bites the same size as yours. He doesn't want to cheat without knowing it.

When there's only one bite left to finish, he stops, not knowing what to do. So you're the one who ends the game and kisses him.

He is surprised, but doesn't break the kiss, instead he maintains it and deepens it. He carefully puts his arms around you to bring you even closer to him. And then brings one of his hands to your cheek. You can feel him controlling his strength to make sure he doesn't hurt you, even though he wants to hug you tighter.

He breaks the kiss unexpectedly. “I am not hurting you, am I?” He asks slightly concerned. “I am learning to control my strength, but I am afraid I might run the risk of burning you with my breathe.” You say you weren't feeling hot at all, or at least not that kind. “That is other of my concerns. I may not hurt you at first, but if I let myself be carried away... I am not aware if the same thing happens to you, I hope so, but I feel the need to show you through actions like this how much I'm in love with you and that could be...”

You tell him that just as he learned to control his strength, he can learn to moderate other things. And perhaps the best way to do that is to continue training with you, little by little. Maybe with another round of that game?

Silver doesn't know this game, but if you’re willing to explain it to him he will be happy to play with you. You explain the rules except the part about what happens if neither player pulls away. But Silver doesn't remember to ask either and you start the game as soon as he understands the basic rules.

You put the biscuit stick in your mouth and point to the other end for him to bite. He does so and plays as you had explained to him, taking a bite whenever it is his turn. His expression remains the same throughout the game... as always.

When there is only one bite left he stops, confused about what he should do and looks at you, or rather, into your eyes, looking for a hint or something like that. And you decide to be the one to end the game and kiss him.

He is surprised, but does not pull away. He just stays like that the whole time you do. Even though his lips are relaxed, it's as if he simply accepts it and does you the favor of staying there.

You're the one who has to break the kiss, probably disappointed that it seems like he didn't reciprocate.

“What's wrong?” He asks, with the same neutral face as always. “You look sad. Did I do something wrong while playing?” You explain to him, in your own way, that it seemed like the kiss was nothing to him, but he didn't pull away either, so you were confused.

“I failed to express myself again.” He says, now with a slightly disappointed expression. “I'm sorry. I... really enjoyed it.” He smiles for a second and then goes back to being disappointed with himself. “But I didn't know what to do, so I just... let you lead, I think. I understand now that I should have taken some kind of initiative. We could play again if you could give me a second chance? Would you be willing to tutor me in how to express myself to you through a kiss?” He smiles at you again. “I would be very grateful.”

Sebek doesn't even know what game you're talking about and he's already complaining about you wanting to play a silly game with him. But fine, he lets you at least explain the game and the rules.

“Just as I thought, a foolish human game. And it is not even productive as a sport to train the body or an intellectual one to train the brain. Why would I waste something as precious as time playing something like that with you? The game is simply two people eating a biscuit to see who can finish it the fastest. FOOLISH!”

You opened your mouth to correct him and say that that wasn't really the goal, but thinking about it, maybe it was a fun way to convince him to play. So you choose to insinuate that he is so slow at eating that he wouldn't be able to beat a mere human in such a competition.

“WHAT?! You believe you're up to my standards in any kind of physical competition? HA! That's what we're going to see, human.” He says smugly. “Pass me one of those biscuit stick, if you please.”

He's the first one to put the biscuit in his mouth, and he even crosses his arms looking at you with a defiant and cocky look.

You start playing, and quickly, without him noticing in time, he kisses you. But only for like half a second before pulling away in the blink of an eye. “AH! YOU DECEIVED ME!” He says with a serious and offended look but a blush on his face. “This is not a game, it's a trap! AND I FELL FOR IT!”

You ask if he didn't like it, and his blush only deepens. “Th-those weren't my words! Do not distort my speech!” So you ask, with a smirk, if he would play with you one more time. “Very well! We shall play again.” He smirks too. “ And this time I will not pull away! Be warned, human!”

As incredible as it may seem, Lilia doesn't know this game well, but he has heard of it. This is a recent thing for very young people, and as that phase of his life had already passed and Silver was never interested in those things, he ended up never having the opportunity to get to know the game.

You see his eyes light up with amusement and interest as you explain the game. “Khee hee hee, sounds like a simple but fun game.” Then, he smirk with a sly look. “I wonder what happens if neither of us pulls away. I assume you were inviting me to play because you are also interested in finding out? Fu fu. Let's play then. Will you do the honours?”

You put the biscuit stick in your mouth and Lilia bites the other side. He plays with a cute expression rather than a smug one, probably to make you more comfortable and confident playing. His red gaze can be too penetrating, at least for the first round of the game.

When there is only one bite left to finish, he stops, even if it’s his turn. He wants you to be the one to decide how the game ends.

You take the last bite and kiss him. And now you can feel from his lips that his cute expression has given way to smugness again. He cups your face and deepens the kiss. He is surprisingly (or not) very skilful, so much so that if the kiss were a dance he would certainly be the one guiding it.

And he's the one who breaks the kiss, gently, and gives you a cute smile. “I know I'm irresistible, but let us save some energy for the next rounds, shall we? How many biscuit stick are in the box?”

If you would like to read more from me, you can find it in my pinned post: INDEX

[mypoisonedvine]

𝗹𝗼𝘃𝗲 𝗶𝗻 𝗮𝗻 𝗲𝗹𝗲𝘃𝗮𝘁𝗼𝗿 | eddie munson x reader

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 | based on a request from the lovely @ultraintrovertedgryffindor ; getting stuck in an elevator with his best friend (and secret crush) was absolutely not on eddie's morning agenda, but it leads to one of his most wild fantasies coming to life.

𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁 | 3.8k

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 | SMUT (18+ only!! semi-public sex, oral m receiving, kinda pervy eddie but also slightly pervy reader with a balls fixation gee I wonder where that idea came from), best friends to lovers (but very very limited plot haha), pretty much exactly what it says on the tin y'all not sure what to say

Eddie laughed as he pressed his hands to the elevator doors, but it wasn't a laugh of amusement— it was exasperation, frustration, an is this really happening? laugh.

"Soonest we can get a crew out there is uhh... noon?" the voice on the emergency phone informed you.

"Noon?!" you yelped. "It's not even half past eight!"

"What did I tell ya?" Eddie recalled, hanging his head in defeat for a second. "Nothing good happens before ten."

"Just try to stay calm and we'll be there when we can," the operator suggested, like it was so simple.

You didn't even reply to that, just scoffed and hung up.

It wasn't like he'd been looking forward to his GED exam, in fact he'd almost been hoping for a way to put it off or get out of it... but this was definitely not what he was imagining. Of all the elevators to get stuck in, this generic government building where he was supposed to have his big test proctored was probably the most boring option.

He glanced over at you, and stopped himself from making a dirty joke: you heard that Aerosmith single, right? Love In An Elevator?

That probably wouldn't have gone over well. He used to say stuff like that when you were both a little younger, but he'd since given up hope of it ever actually... inspiring anything.  You two were probably better off as friends anyways; or, that’s what he told himself to make it sting a little less.

“Looks like we’ll be stuck in here for a while…” he mumbled instead.  “Did they say what the issue is?”

“Some kind of power failure?” you recalled with a shrug.  “It’s gonna take a while to fix, that’s the important thing.  Do you think they’ll call the fire department?”

“Who knows,” Eddie sighed, leaning against the wall as you sank onto the floor and dropped your head back against the wall.  “I guess we should just try to get comfortable.”

Which was easier said than done, but at least he was stuck here with you— you were generally pretty fun to talk to.  Of course, you weren’t exactly in your best mood due to the circumstances…

At 8:32, Eddie checked his watch.  “I’m officially late for my exam,” he noticed.

At 9, you checked your own; “And I’m officially late for work.  We'll see if I even still have a job when we get out of here," you groaned. "I was on pretty thin ice already."

By 9:14, the stuffiness of the elevator was becoming harder to ignore.  Eddie slipped off his jacket and vest in response to the heat, but resisted the urge to take off his Ozzy shirt. You'd seen him shirtless before, of course, but he figured out would be weirder without the right context.

"Fuck, it's hot in here," you whined quietly.

"I guess the power issue affects the A/C, huh," Eddie noticed.

"You think?" you scoffed, reaching up to unbutton the top of your shirt.

For some reason, he kinda liked when you were condescending like that; of course he loved it when you were sweet like usual, but when you got frustrated and sarcastic and looked at him like he was crazy... for whatever reason, it worked for him. And it was definitely working like never before when combined with your hasty efforts to open your shirt.

He expected you to stop after a couple buttons, but you just kept going, exposing more and more of your chest glistening with sweat. His eyes were glued to it, until you got low enough for him to see a glimpse of your bra, and he coughed as he turned his head quickly.

"Woah, hey, uh--" he stammered out awkwardly.

"Oh whatever, you've seen me in a bikini, it's the same thing," you rolled your eyes.

But it's not the same thing, because you were stripping, untucking the button-up from your tight skirt, fanning your flushed skin...

And he was tugging the crotch of his jeans down a bit when you weren't looking, trying to keep his oncoming boner from being too obvious. 

Leaving your shirt open, you sighed and sat down on the floor, splaying your legs out on the ground.  He could see how uncomfortable you were, and it made him press his lips together while he sighed through his nose.  Though he was a little afraid you weren’t in the mood for any friendly behavior as your frustration and stir-craziness increased, he walked across the elevator and sat down next to you.  “I was probably gonna flunk the test,” he decided.

“What?  No you weren’t,” you scoffed.  “You studied so hard!  I’m really proud of you, you know.”

“Just ‘cause we’re stuck in here doesn’t mean you should get all sappy with me—” he started.

“No— ‘cause we’re stuck in here I’m not gonna put up with you trying to be down on yourself,” you decided sternly with a little glare at him.  “You were gonna fucking ace it, I know you were.  You worked your ass off.  I know you wanted to act like you didn’t care, but you actually got your shit together and did it.”

“You… you helped me a lot,” he mumbled sheepishly.

“Please, I hardly did anything— mostly just kept you from getting too distracted,” you denied, blissfully unaware that he actually found you more distracting sometimes, but never minded it.  “Can you stop being a pussy and just admit you’re actually smart, and dedicated, and more than capable of nailing this?”

He blinked quickly and looked down into his lap, feeling his face warm up— not just from the heat.  How could you be so mean and nice at the same time?  

“And now it’s gonna go to waste, ‘cause of this godforsaken elevator,” you sighed, dropping your head back; a pessimistic end to a pep talk, but he couldn’t blame you.

"Think of it this way: it couldn't get any worse!" Eddie offered with a faux-upbeat tone.

Right then, the lights in the elevator flickered and turned off, plunging you both into darkness. "I fucking hate you," you announced after a short silence.

He heard a whirring sound from somewhere else in the shaft, and a dimmer orange lighting came on inside the elevator; some kind of emergency back-up generator thing, probably. It was enough to see decently well, especially as his eyes started to adjust, but still made it feel like you were both in an even more perilous situation.

“I didn’t sleep enough last night,” you admitted, “I might try to catch up on that.  Maybe if I can sleep this will go by faster…”

“I like that plan,” he decided, even though he was pretty sure he wouldn’t be able to do the same.  Eddie had a hard time keeping still and quiet, but he managed to do it so you could get your rest.

He suspected you had fallen asleep when your breathing seemed to slow down a bit— but he knew you had when you limply slumped to the side, your head gently landing on his shoulder.  This happened every once in a while, a sign of how comfortable you were with him. He supposed he should be thankful for it, but sometimes it just made him furious. Because what cruel punishment was this, to have you lay on him like this when he can't put his arm around you and kiss your head and tell you how perfect you are?

The half-boner he’d wound up with earlier when you unbuttoned your shirt had never really gone away, and it noticed your proximity with renewed interest.  Maybe it was just because he was so bored with literally nothing to do but think about you, but his mind kept coming up with all these fucked up ideas based on the eyeful he’d gotten.  

What if you’d taken off your bra as well and let him see the tits he’d been fantasizing about for longer than he cared to admit?  What if this had happened in winter instead and the elevator was brutally cold and you two had to hold your naked bodies together for warmth?  What if that guy on the phone said this thing was airtight and two only had an hour to live and you decided you wanted to go out with a bang, literally?  

He wondered if he’d be brave enough to tell you how he felt about you, if either or both of you only had an hour left.  For better or for worse, this elevator shaft had airflow, so you were more likely to die of boredom than anything.

He shifted slightly, stuck in a somewhat awkward position, but it didn't help much— though thankfully it didn't wake you up, either.  He just wished he could get some relief, somehow.

Obviously, he knew it was a bad idea. But the thing about his dick is it usually talked him into some pretty bad ideas…

He tested the waters with a whisper of your name, but you just kept breathing slowly— you were out cold. Maybe you were even more nervous for him than you'd let on, if you were that underslept.

Reaching up with his free hand, all he had to do was grip himself through his jeans to get some relief; he sighed through his nose, shutting his eyes.

His cock flexed impatiently as he unzipped the jeans as slowly as possible to avoid making too much sound. But god was it worth the wait— as soon as he slipped his hand into his boxers he had to bite his lip, it was so good just to get some attention for his poor, lonely dick.

This was far from the first time Eddie had jerked off to the thought of you. But he was sure he'd never done it while you were this close.

He did it once or twice in your bathroom while you were on the other side of the wall, that was probably the closest he'd come to this before. And that was chump change compared to this-- this was so risky it made his heart race and his hands shake with adrenaline, but it only made him more desperate for whatever reason.

He wouldn't have swiped his thumb through the precum at his slit if he had known how good it would feel— or maybe if he'd known how good it would feel, he would've been able to prepare himself for it. But the anxiety of getting caught had made him even more sensitive, so he hadn't really seen it coming, and when he did it he let out a little moan through his teeth that he couldn't stop.

You stirred again and he froze; when you lifted your head off of his shoulder, he hastily shoved himself back into his jeans, trying to cover up the open fly with the bottom of his shirt.

“Were you… jerking off?” you realized, and he felt sick with fear as his heart raced like never before.

“W-what?” he scoffed incredulously.  “I— are you crazy?”

“Ed,” you warned firmly.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, “I— sorry—”

“Are you that bored?” you mocked with a snort, and he felt even more flushed; it made his cock flex under the mediocre covering of his shirt when you degraded him like that.

“N-no— well, yeah, I just— you put your head on me and I—”

“It was because of me?” you realized, and his mouth fell open.  He hadn’t realized that you hadn’t actually put that together yet; of course he’d ended up just digging himself deeper.

“W-well, uh— I mean, no, no I— well.  Kind of?”

“Kind of, as in…”

“Completely,” he blurted out.

You were quiet for a long time, and he couldn’t see your face well enough to even try to guess what you were thinking.  Although you probably could’ve given him a thousand guesses and he never would’ve guessed what you ended up saying: “You want some help with that?” you offered.

But before he could even answer— not that he really could, he was too busy having a short circuit in his brain— you were reaching for his lap.  And even if his mind was blown, his body knew to just lift his hands up and out of the way and let you do whatever you wanted to him.

You pulled up the bottom of his shirt and sighed a little when you saw his cock, still hard and leaking and curled up against his stomach.  You carefully wrapped your hand around it, and he swallowed thickly, wondering if he was dreaming or something— you were so… soft.

“Like this?” you asked gently, making his hips twitch up into your hand for a second.

“Y-yeah,” he nodded, eyes glued to the way your hand looked wrapped around him.  If only the lights weren’t out, he wanted to see it even better.

He looked at your face, moving your hair a little to make sure he could see you, but from what he could tell your eyes were trained on his lap.

“Fuuuck,” he whispered when you stroked him a bit more confidently.  He wanted to shut his eyes from how good it felt, but he didn’t want to look away from a moment of this in case you, you know, came to your senses and stopped.

“S’really thick,” you said, under your breath, a little bit shyly.  He groaned and ran his hand over your back, trying not to do too much in case it startled you but also totally helpless to how badly he needed you.  “I wonder if I can…”

You trailed off, and before he could decide if he should ask what you were going to say, you 

As soon as you leaned down and put your mouth around him, his back arched and his legs kicked a bit.  “Fuck, baby,” he choked out, melting into the warm feeling of your lips, your tongue— god, he couldn’t believe you were doing this to him.  He actually had to fight the urge to tell you so, to admit how much he’d imagined this; he settled for whining out your name and running a hand over your hair encouragingly.  “S’fucking warm, oh my god—”

You hummed around him, sucking a bit harder, swirling your tongue around the tip; who the fuck taught you that?  It made his chest burn with some targetless jealousy even while it made his cock flex proudly. 

Your hand still gripping the base, you took him a little bit deeper, moaning a little bit once again while you did it.  No way you actually enjoyed this, right?

You pulled your head up a bit— he took his hand away quickly, not trying to hold you down or anything— and just when he wondered if you might stop, you dropped down lower so you could run your tongue up from the very bottom all the way to his leaking slit—

“Jesus,” he laughed thinly, “what are you doing to me, baby?”

“Whatever I wanna do,” you replied— if he was a little braver, he would’ve asked what made you want this, how long you wanted this— but he was more than content to let you do whatever you wanted, so far you had some pretty fucking good ideas.

Your head sank even a little bit lower, and he pushed his jeans down just a bit in case they were getting in your way.  Boy, was he glad he did.  “Fuck,” he gasped, watching in shock as you looked up at him while your tongue ran over his balls.  “Sorry, they’re, uh, kinda sweaty…”

“Even better,” you purred; what the fuck were you doing acting so dirty like that?

“Baby,” he laughed thinly, “is this some kind of claustrophobia-induced psychosis or something?  Who are you and what have you done with my prude best friend?”

“Prude?  That’s unfair,” you laughed.  “Just ‘cause I don’t advertise every dirty thought that goes through my mind doesn’t mean I’m not as much of a freak as you…”

“Freak is an understatement,” he sighed, struggling to keep his voice even when he was literally watching you lick all over his balls like this.  “You’re a proper fucking slut.”

You hummed proudly, eyes getting a little heavier— when you looked up at him like that, he was totally helpless.  “It’s slutty to wanna taste your best friend’s balls?”

“F-fuck, of course it is,” he whined, cock flexing in your hand again when you licked a stripe up between then.

“Well then yeah, guess I’m a slut,” you agreed. 

“G-god, I— I’m gonna—” he tried to warn you, but it happened so fast— it happened the second you started to gently suck on his balls, in fact.  What was he supposed to do when you did that?!  How could he not shoot cum all over his now-definitely-ruined shirt?

“Oh shit,” you giggled— his cock was still flexing and you were already mocking him.

“What— what the fuck,” he began, trying to catch his breath, “made you wanna do that?”

But you were already straddling his lap, pulling up your skirt to your waist.

“F-fuck, baby, I— are you seriously—?”

He cut himself off and whimpered when he got a good look at your panties, the cute lacy kind— and pretty fucking soaked already.

“I-I don’t have a condom,” he warned you, cursing himself inside for finally throwing out the one in his wallet thinking he would never end up needing it.

“Don’t care,” you sighed, pulling your panties aside and guiding his tip right up to your entrance.

“Fuck, that’s—”

He was gonna say it was insanely hot, but you hardly noticed; you were already sliding down onto him, taking him in one motion right to the base.

“Oh fuck!” he nearly shouted, gripping hard onto your thighs.  “F-fuck, you’re so tight, fuck…”

You started moving right away, grinding on top of him for a second before lifting your hips and bouncing up and down.  “Fuck,” you sighed, “so deep…”

Was it wrong that he loved the way you were basically just using him?  You hadn’t even let him finish his sentence, you didn’t ask if he could handle it right after coming— you just started riding him, and far be it from him to complain about that.

“Take this off,” he pleaded, tugging at your unbuttoned shirt and trying to push it off your shoulders.

You helped him get it off, and before you’d even tossed it off to the side he was reaching behind you to unclasp your bra.  The gods of bra clasps smiled down upon him that day, because he was sure he’d never gotten one open so quickly, and if there was any time he really needed it, it was now.

“Fuck,” he groaned when he got a good look at them— not good enough in this dim orange lighting, but it would do— and instantly got a hold of your chest.  You didn’t seem to mind the clammy hands, considering the way you whimpered a little and clenched inside around him.  “God, baby, your tits…”

As much as he’d been waiting ages for a chance to see you naked, he couldn’t deny you looked way too good with the skirt, stockings, and heels still on.  He could already tell this was going to give him a complex.

He ran a hand up your leg as you moved just to feel the silky nylon; god, he hoped you didn’t get fired for the unexplained extreme lateness, if not just for your sake then so that you would keep dressing like this every day.  “So pretty,” he sighed, wondering if you could see in the dark how totally in awe he was of you.

“Oh my god,” you gasped, in that way he’d always imagined you would in a time like this.  Your head fell back and he couldn’t help but reach up and grab your neck— not applying much pressure, just holding you there, just admiring how goddamn perfect his hand looked wrapped around you.  

“You’re so fucking sexy,” Eddie sighed, “fuck, look at you go.”

You smiled a little, he could see it even with your head tilted back like that, and it was just amazing seeing you so… free?  So relaxed and totally shameless, giving in to your pleasure.  But it wasn’t enough: he wanted to see you lose all your composure, he wanted to hear you scream his name, he wanted to make you shake and cry and beg— that was why he grabbed a tight hold of your hips and pulled you down onto him, bucking his hips up to meet you halfway.  It forced his cock even deeper and you yelped a little.

“Not too big for you, is it?” he taunted.

“No, fuck, s’perfect,” you moaned, your voice deep and rough and so fucking beautiful like this.  “Fuckin’ perfect, Ed, o-oh god—”

“Keep saying my name,” he ordered.

“Eddie,” you said, again, but this time all needy and cute; it just made him fuck you harder, biting down on his lip to muffle some of his own noises— he just wanted to hear you.  He pulled you down and hugged you close, keeping you still so he could fuck up into you exactly how he wanted; you moaned right by his ear, fuck it was too precious.  

“I’m already close again,” he admitted with a thin laugh.  “Fuck, look what you do to me.”

You whined louder, clenching on his cock— he seriously did not know how much more of this he could take.

“Wanted you so bad,” he blurted out, unable to stop himself, “wanted this for so long.  Wanted to fuck you— I wanna make you come, fuck, please, please come.”

He felt you nod against his shoulder as you gasped, and he shut his eyes tight, just focusing on his movements and trying his best not to speed up too much just to chase his own high.  He needed you to come more than he needed his own pleasure, even if everything in his body was screaming for a chance to come inside you. “So close,” you panted, “fuck, Eddie, don’t stop— please don’t stop— yes!”

The lights turning back on suddenly startled you both, making him freeze and look around (and squint a little from the brightness), but that was nothing compared to the shock of the doors opening.  Behind them was mostly just concrete, the space between floors, but up top was about two feet of the eighth level, where a crew of firefighters could be seen peering in.

“Are they alright?” someone from the building asked as Eddie scrambled to grab his jacket from the corner and cover you up with it.

“Yeah, looks like they’re doing just fine,” one of the men announced as they broke out in surprised laughter.

[jjongslutz]

이희승 HEESEUNG 💋 YOU'RE STILL A VIRGIN? [ MDNI. ]

IN WHICH you realize you never completed your most important new year's resolution: losing your virginity. luckily, your roommate is willing to help you out with that

WARNINGS ⨯ smut, porn with a smidge of plot for context, not proofread cuz who needs that, fingering, orgasm denial (briefly), missionary, very vanilla sex, heeseung's kinda awkward #pathetic_men

WORD COUNT ⨯ 3.1k

AUTHOR'S NOTE . . . first work of the year!! sorry for taking an impromptu break so suddenly, but my works will still be coming out slowly as of now, so thank you for your patience 🫶

# TAGLIST ! @wonkifangirl @chlorinecake @sunjaywoning @jaeyunthejakesim @deobitifull @notevenheretbh1 @jvngw0nlvr @jongszn @ineedsomezzz @haelahoops @seongslutt @fakeuwus @leeheeheeseung @aheewonenthusiast @lprww @wonsbaer @heeseungssidechick @smisworld @rayofsunshineeee @starrypen @heerated @snwosgf @nycapartmentsworld @sooyeonvida @dear-hoon @nikiiitties

“We never finished sharing our new year’s resolutions.”

You stop mid-bite into your pancakes. You and Heeseung had spent all morning making them, finally testing out the new oven you got after the last one broke down during another pancake morning. It survived, luckily. There’s only the taste-test left, but Heeseung’s comment catches you so off guard, you put the fork back down.

“New year’s resolutions?” you repeat. “You mean the ones from basically last year?”

He nods, shoving his first bite in. He hums at the taste. Success. “Yeah, we made those lists and started sharing but then—” Heeseung tilts and quirks his brow in thought. “—I can’t even remember. We probably got distracted, but either way, we never made sure we both completed our lists.”

Chuckling awkwardly, you keep your eyes on the plate. “I don’t even know if I still have mine—”

“I do,” Heeseung interrupts. “We put them in that box, remember? I found it this morning, that’s why I thought to bring them up, ha.”

“You didn’t, er, read them, did you?”

Heeseung shakes his head, chewing through another bite. “I thought it’d be fun to go through them and see what we’ve done or not.” He lightly taps his fork around his plate. “We’ve got a few days before the new year starts, no plans, I don’t know…”

“No, no, yeah, I get it,” you assure, nodding quickly. “I just, um, they were stupid. I was stupid. This year changed me, you know?”

Your roommate looks at you with a teasing glint in his eye. “Oh yeah?” He watches you nod again. “All the more reason to get them.” And before you know it, he’s rushing to his room to, you assume, get the box he’d mentioned earlier.

It’s not long before he’s practically skipping back into the kitchen-dining area bringing the box. Tossing his plate aside, he sets the box in between you two and sits back down. You’re anxious at how he unfolds the lid and pulls out two sheets of crumpled paper.

“Yours was the one with the rip at the top,” you say, reading the questions in his mind. Your face flushes as you realize that’ll only prompt him to take it out the other first.

He smiles at you before hiding his face behind the paper. He begins to read it out loud. “Resolution one: Learn how to make (good) pancakes—” Grabbing his fork, he clinks it twice against the porcelain. “Check. Number two: Make weekly savings—Check, right?”

You hum, your leg shaking beneath the table.

“Alright, and then—” He lowers the paper. Your eyes widen. “Lose my virginity?”

“Okay!” you say overenthusiastically. “See! I was being stupid, such a dumb thing to write on a new year’s resolution list, right? Haha, so funny, let’s just throw these out—”

“Wait, but we can cross this off, though, right? You had that boyfriend?”

“He wasn’t my boyfriend,” you clarify. “He was… gross. I never really liked him like that, so it just never happened. It’s whatever, I’m a virgin, okay, let’s move on. Isn’t the next thing I put down like eat more salads—”

“You’re still a virgin?”

You look at him bewildered. What was up with the intonation? Was it really shocking? Why does he even care? You suppose he’s always been the nosy type, just never assumed it would translate to this, as well.

He seems to realize the second meaning to his words and fumbles to take them back. “Okay, not like—I didn't mean it in a weird way, I’m just surprised that you’re... you know?”

“It’s… whatever,” you clarify. “It’s fine. It’ll happen at the right moment, right? That’s what they all say.” You'd shovel another bite into your mouth and you can’t help but taste the bitterness from your words with the sweetness of the syrup. “I’ll get over it when it’s done and gone.”

Heeseung clears his throat, paper discarded to the side, his eyes fixed on your plate in deep thought. “Do you…”

You raise a brow.

“Do you want my help?”

-

In your defense, you really hate being a virgin. Not that it’s embarrassing or shameful to be one, but the fact that you swore to yourself that you wouldn't be a virgin anymore since last year makes you want to crumble up inside.

You just don’t want to embarrass yourself in front of your past self. Imagine her laughing at you? That’s a new low.

Which leads to this moment right now. Laying in Heeseung’s bed, in Heeseung’s room, waiting for Heeseung to come back into said room with the “supplies” he was rushing out to get.

The door slowly swings open as Heeseung pushes it with his back, his hands full. He makes eye contact with you and a pout makes its way across his lips. “You’re still wearing your clothes?”

Your eyes snap open wider. “Yes?!”

“We’re gonna have sex, Y/N, your clothes aren’t supposed to be on.” He smiles at you as he sets down lube and condoms.

A wave of relief washes over you when you realize he’s just teasing. Heeseung’s a gentleman, but it’s not like you've gotten the chance to know the side of him you two swore to never let you meet. He could’ve been a weirdo creep for all you knew, as long as he was paying his half of the rent it never mattered until right now.

“Do you want me to turn around when you take them off?” Yep, just the same old awkwardly sweet Heeseung you’ve always known.

You smile, albeit nervously. “You’ll see me naked anyway, might as well put on a strip performance to get you in the mood.”

He laughs at your sarcasm, then points to the lights. “We could turn those off if you want.”

For a moment, you consider it. If not for the hopes of Heeseung seeing the least possible, but for the ambiance. Do people leave the lights on or off during sex? Not like you know. Ultimately, you shake your head, getting off from the bed and sticking your hands under the hem of your shirt. “Ready?” you ask him, though the question is more internalized.

His hum is muffled by his hands reaching at the collar of his shirt.

At once, you two pull your shirts off together.

Standing bare chest to bare chest - with bra - you eye him carefully. “You take your shirt off from the top?”

“What?”

You mirrored his previous action. “You took your collar and pulled your head through the neck hole first—” your words muffle as you reenact it sloppily. “Normal people take their arms out first.”

Heeseung stiffles a laugh behind his hand. “Aren’t you supposed to try to seduce me?”

“Is this not sexy?”

“Oh, please, go on, you’re making me hard.”

The two of you laugh and you realize you’re not so nervous anymore. The anxious jitters left your hands and you can feel your muscles relaxing. It’s just Heeseung. Just Heeseung.

As he recovers from a fit of laughter, you look at him in a way you haven’t taken the chance to ever since you met almost two years ago. His arms that flex when he wraps them around himself. His smile which switches to a sly smirk when he’s resisting the urge to laugh louder. His hair that falls neatly into place, over his eyes that glint to the point you can’t take your gaze away from them.

Heat rushes to your cheeks.

He’s attractive. Yeah, that’s been obvious.

Your type? Maybe…

But this is different. And, oh god, he’s going to have sex with you.

Heeseung clears his throat, snapping you out of your daze.

“Pants?” he asks cautiously. His eyes are brimmed with concern, probably sensing your confused thoughts, clearly not understanding what you’re telling yourself.

You respond by tugging at your sweatpant laces, letting them drop down dramatically. Heeseung keeps his eyes glued to your movement, eyes widening at the sight of your bare legs and white panties. He quickly reaches for his belt.

To your surprise, you can see that he’s, at the very least, getting hard. Maybe it’s nerves. You try not to think too much about the possible influence the sight of your almost-bare body has on him.

Still, to test the waters and ease or completely disrupt your mind, you ask, “Can you help me with my bra?”

He fumbles an answer, you’re pretty sure you hear a ‘yes’ through his blabs, as he kicks out of his pants fully and stumbles to your side of the bed. You turn your back to him, giving him the cue by raising your hair away from the clasp.

Shivers run down your spine at his gentle, warm touch on your skin. You never knew you were sensitive, but with every simple movement, every brush against your back has you feeling goosebumps running up your arms.

Heeseung’s breath is hollow behind you.

When the clasp is finally undone, you pull your arms out of the straps, letting the material drop to the floor with your other discarded clothes.

You turn to face Heeseung, his eyes saying more than any words could mean. Stunned, he asks, “Can I kiss you?”

“Yes,” you whisper in return, eyes drifting down to his mouth.

He doesn't hesitate to lean in. His arms naturally slide around your waist, pulling you flush against his body as his lips hungrily crash into yours. You gasp through the initial shock of ferocity, relaxing into his hold with your hands coming up to the nape of his neck.

His fingers squeeze your skin pulling a sound from your mouth, muffled by his lips. You don’t even notice the way his knees push you back until you’re laying on the bed, lips still attached to Heeseung’s, but even those pull away eventually. You almost get up onto your elbows to chase after his touch, but stop yourself at the sight of his intense gaze.

Your gazes lock with each other for a moment, before he finally breaks contact to rush to the bedside cabinet where the lube bottle sits. He pours a generous amount on his fingers, rubbing the gel slowly. He eyes the way it reflects the light and this one reaction makes you think he’s never seen it before, but you doubt it — you’ve heard his sexual escapades thanks to your graciously thin walls.

“I’m going to finger you first,” Heeseung interrupts your thoughts.

You simply hum in return, letting your legs fall apart for him to get back into place, between them.

Heeseung has one hand on your thigh, the other levitates over your skin with nearly-dripping lube, but his eyes are on yours, waiting for another nod before he can continue.

Giving him the signal, you aren’t prepared for the chill that runs down your spine at the cold sensation of the lube on your sensitive skin. Soon enough, though, your gasps turn to gentle hums as Heeseung draws little circles on your bare pussy.

“This okay?”

You nod needily.

One finger finally intrudes, swimming through your walls and curls to find that certain spot. Your hips roll into it—you never thought it'd be this different from your own fingers.

“More,” you whimper.

“Already?” Heeseung teases, but you can hear partial genuinity in his tone.

Wordlessly, your hand reaches down to his, pulling at it to get another finger inside of you.

Heeseung chuckles in disbelief, but doesn't disobey your request.

Two fingers in and you’re letting soft gasps escape your lips, eyes already threatening to roll back at the rhythmic pattern Heeseung’s keeping up. He pushes in, pulls out, pushes back in and curls into you. You match his pace with your hips, hoping to deepen his touch. He’s so close, so close to where you need him.

Meanwhile, his thumb rolls gently over your clit to ease the tension of the stretch. It helps, making your head spin and forcing you to focus entirely on the pleasure you feel, rather than the pain.

Heeseung doesn't warn you when he slips in a third, but you’re busy throwing your head back, moaning to tell him off for it.

“Fuck,” you whisper to the ceiling. “‘Is so good.”

Your back arches as Heeseung’s fingers reach your G-spot, curling and tickling the bundle of nerves, ripping out more muffled moans, your hand thrown to your mouth not to disturb the neighbours.

“Right there!” you moan. “Right—shit, yes—Right there!” When he keeps at it, you can't hold on much longer. “Fuck, I’m so close—”

And then it’s gone.

All the pleasure is ripped away from you as Heeseung pulls out of you coldly, barely looking your way as he turns to the bedside cabinet.

“Hey,” you whine, albeit childishly.

It’s as if something clicks and he turns back to you. “Sorry,” he singsongs out. “I didn’t want you to come so soon, I still have to actually fuck you, right?”

You pout, but ultimately he’s right. That’s what you're here for. “Fine.”

He fumbles with the condom packet, eventually giving up at going at it with his lubed-fingers and rips the package with his teeth.

“I could’ve helped,” you tell him, smiling teasingly.

“I got it. I got it.” He waves his hand at you before he uses that same hand to roll down the condom and—Holy. Shit. He’s packing.

You never took the time to think about his size, though you probably would've determined it was a decent size from the outline of it when he's chilling on the couch with sweats on.

But now that it's out, hard and flush against his toned abs? You take a deep breath and try not to think too much about how it must taste, how it’d feel to have him down your throat—as if you even know how to give a proper blowjob. Maybe he could guide you, holding your head from the back and pushing it back and forth rhythmically up and down his cock and—

“Y/N?”

“Huh?”

“I asked if you’re sure about this?”

He’s pumping his cock as he asks. You resist the urge to lick your lips.

“Yes,” you say. “I’m ready.” And there’s no lie in your words.

Heeseung crawls back onto the bed once more, staying on his knees when his body is lined up with yours. He nods to himself and you before lining up his dick with your entrance, one hand falling to the side of your head, the other resting on your lower stomach as he pushes in slowly.

The intrusion is unfamiliar. The stretch hurts more than expected. Yet, your mouth is agape in frozen pleasure — Heeseung let his hand fall lower and is now drawing circles on your clit to ease the tension.

He keeps his thumb on your pussy while slowing his movement to a stop. “Tell me when I can move.”

Instead of relaxing into the stretch, preparing yourself for more friction, you focus entirely on Heeseung’s movements on your clit. Rolling the bud of pleasure between his two fingers, your eyes flutter shut in pleasure.

You test the waters by flexing your core muscles, squeezing your walls against Heeseung’s cock.

“Fuck,” he groans, snapping his hips forward at once, but he quickly stops himself. Heeseung looks up at you with cutely worried wide eyes. “Shit, sorry—Are you okay?”

You giggle. “Go!” you say between laughs, rolling your hips down to get him going.

He doesn't need to be told twice. He quickly resumes his previous thrust, your legs are naturally pushed apart to give him more access—moans spill from your lips at the newfound depth he reaches.

Heeseung’s head dips, his hair falling over his face, but does nothing to hide his expressions. You watch him for a moment, reveling in how good your pussy is making him feel. You clench around him again and his mouth falls open. He lets out the most harmonious sound you never expected from him but want to hear again and again.

So, you roll your hips into his, until your lower stomachs are threatening to brush against each other, until Heeseung lowers from his hands to elbows, and your bodies are flushed against each other. Your skins are sticky with sweat, but you can’t be bothered. Not with his rhythmic thrusts reaching so deep inside of you. Not with his fingers still playing with your clit, torturing the bud with nonstop pleasure. Not with his lips so close to your mouth, and your head pulling itself upward to capture them in another kiss.

Your hands snake to the back of his head, curling into his messy hair and pulling gently to bring him closer to you. His free hand finds its way into your hair, too, pushing the flyaways back into the rest of the mess, away from your face, before it rests gently on your neck, guiding you in the kiss.

“Fuck, baby,” he whispers into your mouth as your walls clench around him again.

Your head spins at his low tone, pleasure bubbling in your stomach in a way it never has before. “I’m—Shit—I’m so close!”

Heeseung takes this as a signal to speed up his fingers on your clit, and slows down his thrusts, deepening them with each push in.

“Come on, come for me.”

And you do.

So much, like never before.

Your back arches into him, head thrown back, letting out a sinful string of moans. You’d curse from the pleasure, but your thoughts aren't coherent enough to form words.

You’re frozen in place, legs shaking as Heeseung pulls out to finish himself off. He jerks off into the condom on top of your wasted body, coming undone as soon as your dazed eyes meet his hungry gaze.

He doubles over, landing on his hand, face mere inches away from yours. “Fuck,” he says.

“Fuck,” you repeat, a giggle in your tone.

“Congratulations,” he says, rolling onto his back to be laying beside you. “You’re no longer a virgin.”

Your weak arms raise in a small celebration. “Yay.”

“How was it?”

You can’t even respond, hands coming up to cover your flushed face. You can feel Heeseung’s smirk behind them.

“I’ll take that as good.” Then, after a beat. “Does that mean you'd want to do it again?”

Your hands fall flat to your sides in one quick movement. “What?”

“There’s so much more I can teach you.”

“No,” you say while shaking your head. He looks defeated, you almost want to reach up and pet him like a dog. “Not until you buy me dinner.”

[foone]

So, Laika. I see people talking about her recently because it's been 67 years...

But I want to clear up some things:

1. She died for political reasons

2. They did not know how to bring her back.

3. If they'd planned to bring her back, it wouldn't have worked.

To explain: Laika was in Sputnik 2. The launch window for Sputnik 2 was chosen so it'd be the 40th anniversary of the October Revolution, which meant the rocket designers had less than four weeks to design the rocket & capsule. Politicians wanting to have a good PR of a cool space rocket story also influenced the Challenger disaster: politicians always want results faster, and space does not respect haste.

Secondly, this was the SECOND ARTIFICIAL SATELLITE EVER. No one in the world knew how to safely return anything to earth, so from the moment launching a dog was chosen, it was always going to be a one way trip. They tried to make it as comfortable as possible for the dog, yes, but they knew if they launched anything it wouldn't come back. They didn't even know if she'd survive in space? Can animals live in the low-gravity high-radiation environment of space? We didn't know if it was even possible before Laika!

Thirdly: if they had planned to bring her back, it wouldn't have worked. They planned for her to have seven days of food, and the last days of food was poisoned. She'd be gently euthanized.

It didn't work. The rocket core didn't properly detach from the capsule, which fucked the thermal regulation. The capsule overheated, and she died within 5-7 hours of the launch.

If they'd planned some elaborate untested return system, it would have activated after the seven days of the planned orbits. Laika would have been long dead by then.

My point is not to say they did nothing wrong (even one of the scientists who designed Sputnik 2 has said it wasn't worth it: they didn't learn anything useful from sending Laika up), but that you shouldn't misunderstand the context. This was a highly experimental launch, it was politically motivated, and even if they'd tried to bring Laika back, she'd have ended up dead.

And the scientists knew that last bit was likely the case when they decided to do this! They knew they didn't know how to bring animals back to the earth, so they didn't try. If they'd tried, the same result would mostly happen: a dead dog in space.

It wasn't just a matter of "not caring" about her life. They thought this could be a useful contribution to science, the first animal in space... They were wrong. And they were always regretful that Laika died for science, especially since they got so little from it.

All future launches with animals were designed to be returned to earth, and those helped pave the way for humans in space. Dogs were used to to test the Vostok spacecraft that later carried Yuri Gagarin to orbit, making him the first man in space.

My point is that they were never uncaring of the safety of Laika: they thought this was the best of a bad situation and then it got worse. This experiment was not repeated and Laika was mourned. If you need to blame anyone, blame Khrushchev.

[hellenhighwater]

Mildly weird question for story research purposes: when your cats ride on your shoulder, what does it feel like for you?

Context: My main character has a cat who likes to ride around on her shoulder, and since it's a thing that happens frequently, I'm trying to make sure I write about it well. And, unfortunately, I do not have a cat to even attempt to test it with, so I'm going to the one person I KNOW has experience with this situation.

Specific things that would be helpful to know:

Do you have to be careful not to upset their balance, or can you more or less walk normally once they're up there?

How are they keeping themselves up there? Are there claws involved? Or just good balance?

Where's most of their weight? I looked back at some pictures/vids, and it looks like they typically ride with their front paws on the shoulder and their back paws somewhere a bit below and beside your neck, but I could be wrong.

How long can they stay on your shoulder before one of you has to take a break? Is the weight of the cat tiring, or is it pretty easy to deal with?

Anything else I should be aware of regarding shoulder cats?

Thank you SO MUCH for your help!

Oh, I can definitely answer that! One: It's waaay easier to shoulder a small cat than a big one.

For the most part, they kind of drape themselves over the shoulder; this is specifically what I've trained them to do. Cats will also "shoulder" by draping across both shoulders/back of neck, but this forces your head forward to allow room for them, and it's not comfy. Hence the trained posture. (Malice, in the early days:)

I taught Mal to jump up when I bent forward for her, and circle to face front while I stood up. She can actually do that pretty quickly. Their weight is pretty evenly distributed across the top of the shoulder and down on the pectoral, not really on the back at all. Mal sometimes hooks her back claws into my shirt near the shoulderblade, which is more about balance than weight support. Nim, who was significantly smaller, actually kept her back feet tucked up so that her feet were on the top of my shoulder. This is a significantly more ready posture than Mal's--she would have to readjust for a better foothold to jump down; Nim could leap directly off at a moment's notice. Overall, Nim had far superior shouldering skills to Mal. Malice rides like the meatball she is; I'm hoping she'll learn with age. Here's some pictures of Nim:

To give them a stable position, I do keep my back straight and shoulders back; if I have to pick something up, I will crouch down instead of bending over. If I have to bend forwards, I will put my palm up flat so that they can stand with their front paws on it and keep their body on my shoulder. Generally, I can move, walk, and even work normally. I've cooked, painted, done chores, even run. Both hands are free to use, though generally you can't lift the arm the cat is on above a T position. They don't need to use their claws for balance unless I am doing something really active. I do shoulder almost exclusively on my left shoulder, so that my dominant hand is more free.

The weight is not significant--Nim was only about 8 lbs, Mal is about 11, and because there's no grip to maintain them and they're naturally situated on the shoulder, it's easy to carry them for a long time. I used to walk miles with Nim on my shoulder. It's actually more the heat--cats run hot, and it's a lot of fur on your neck and shoulder if it's warm out. Great in the winter, though!

Notable things you might not realize--their head is in front of yours, so you can still see ear positions, what they're looking at, etc. Nim's night vision/hearing/sense of smell was better than mine, so I could tell if we were sneaking on wildlife based on her reactions and responses to things. You can also feel them tense or adjust posture before they jump or try to get down, and you can feel their tail moving. You can also feel if they're growling or purring, even if you can't hear it. If you're used to paying attention to those cues, you'll notice them while just carrying the cat normally too--Nobody could sneak up behind me if I was carrying Nim facing over my shoulder to the back.

They can jump from shoulder height but it's a hard landing. Usually if I want them down, I just kneel with a knee up, or lift a leg flat while standing so they can jump to the top of my leg and then to the ground.

If I was in a fictional setting and traveling with them long term, I would be investing in a really weird piece of leather armor, that goes to the edge of the neck/crest of shoulder, and down past the bottom of the shoulderblade, with little easy-to-grip leather loops or chainmail on the back of the shoulder.

[girlgenius1111]

one of your girls part 4

part 1 part 2 part 3 alexia x jenni x leila x reader. you take a ride. smut 18+. part of the rush verse @vixwritesagain ... for context: Read Part One here Read Part Two here Read Part Three here Read Part Four here Read Part Five here Read Part Six here Read Part Seven here Read Part Eight here

-----

Soothing hands were slow to stroke at your skin. When Jenni spoke, it was the quietest you’d ever heard her. A husky, mumbled thing just for you. “Be good. I want to see you come tonight.” 

There was no fight when she untangled herself a second time, though the way her hands lingered on your thighs gave her away. Jenni pressed her lips to your cheek before standing up straight. She was quick to turn, walking to where Alexia was perched on the edge of the bed, blocking your view when she bent down to catch the captain’s lips. 

You looked away immediately. There was something in your gut which made it hard to watch, like you were intruding on something private, intimate. 

Instead, your focus travelled to the corner of the room. Leila met your gaze immediately. Her hand rubbed over her mouth for a moment before she smiled lazily. You watched her focus trail down to your bare chest, then to your legs still hanging off the desk. 

With space, you could breathe again. You took the time, forcing deep breaths to calm your frantic heart. 

By the time Leila looked back up to your face, you had the wherewithal to raise both eyebrows at her. “Okay?” You mouthed. 

Leila’s grin stretched even further. A satisfied nod before her expression turned concerned. “You?” She mouthed back.

It took another second of shaking out your tense limbs, for you to nod and smile back at her. You were half way to pushing off the desk and finding a home on her lap when Jenni spoke. “Lie down, amor. Let her work for you.” 

You glanced back just in time to see how Alexia surged up to catch her girlfriend’s lips again. They broke apart only when Jenni’s grin couldn’t be contained, and Alexia pushed back to make herself comfortable against the pillows. 

Jenni turned slowly, fiddling with the harness at her hips to unclip it. Her eyes met yours as her content expression faded to something far more devious. Jenni didn’t say anything, but the raise of her eyebrow and the tilt of her chin made the instruction clear enough. 

Your legs were like jelly, though you tried to hide just how floaty they felt as you toed your way to the bed.

Alexia lay with both hands behind her head while you hooked a leg over her hips. Though her dark eyes followed your every move, she didn’t react when you steadied yourself on her stomach nor when you reached down to fist her strap. 

The few short strokes you gave it were instinctive, but the tiny groan she tried to swallow made you wonder how she’d react if you took her in your mouth. Driven by your own arousal, you ignored it and pressed her tip against your entrance. 

After taking their cocks for so long, sinking down was easy. The pleased little noise you let out might have been embarrassing but for how it made Alexia’s lips curl into the tiniest of smiles. 

Then the first gentle rock, testing how it felt to ride her. You were vaguely aware of Jenni moving around the room, but paid little mind to her quiet footsteps. 

Alexia’s lips parted, tension finding her brow when you sunk back down and sat against her hips. There was the temptation to grind your clit against her skin, but you knew what she really wanted.

Perhaps your needy whines were theatrical, but your cunt clenched around her strap over and over. You quickly found the angle you liked best, one which shot pleasure up your spine every time you sat down. 

Whatever show you were planning to put on was off the table when it felt so good. Up and down, with your eyes fluttering shut and your fingertips digging into her skin. The sounds you pulled from her weren’t loud - low groans and the occasional grunt - but they set you alight all the same. 

It wasn’t long until you felt her hands curl around your waist, just holding at first, then pushing up to grope your chest. Her fingers pulled at your nipples, making you shiver and tense around her. When her hands returned to your waist, it was to help fuck her cock inside. 

“Yes!” You gasped at the extra power behind the rhythm. 

“She looks so pretty when she rides you, doesn’t she, Ale?” Leila asked, grinning to herself when you turned your head in her direction. Alexia’s fingers tightened, very clearly wanting your attention on her. 

When you looked back down at her, she met your gaze, though with an unusually tense tone. “Do you think about me? When you’ve got Leila's cock inside of you, do you think about me?” 

Shivering, you rolled your eyes at her single-mindedness. Though you should have learned your lesson by now, you couldn’t help yourself. “No.” 

Within a second, the blonde’s hands were gripping onto your hips, stopping your movements completely. 

“No?” She echoed. As soon as you forced your eyes to hers, you were met with a cruel smirk. You tried to ignore her, tried to grind back and forth, but she was too strong. You couldn’t move your lower body even an inch, and just as you were about to give in, Alexia spoke again. “So she is lying to me?” 

Your body froze, your confusion clearly written across your face. 

Alexia grinned like she was happy to elaborate. “Leila is lying when she says you think about me when you come?” 

And it should have been a humiliating revelation, that they’d spoken about you like this. But if it was going to embarrass you, Leila would have never said it. No, she was well aware of how Alexia would bring their conversations up, and your girlfriend knew just what your reaction would be. 

Your whole body seemed to twitch as you fought the urge to push Alexia’s hands off you and take what you wanted. 

“I am not lying. Tell her, bebé.” Leila piped up, sounding as if all her dreams had just come true. 

“Sometimes,” You allowed, your pride only allowing you to say so much, though Alexia’s hands loosened their grip just enough for you to buck pathetically against her.  

“All the time,” Leila corrected. “When I fuck her. When she fucks herself.”

“Am I that good?” Alexia asked arrogantly. 

Swallowing a whine as she stopped you again, you clenched your fists against her taut stomach. In the quiet, you could hear slick sounds behind you, then Jenni’s signature sigh. 

Alexia licked her lips, dark eyes focused on your every move and hair splayed out against white sheets. You shifted a little, catching her gaze trailing down to your breasts before you spoke. “You are… good.” 

Alexia let out a sharp exhale as her focus turned clinical. “You will have to be more specific if you want to come. Did you like taking my fingers, or being on your knees for me?” 

“Alexia, just let me move.” You whined, dragging blunt nails across her forearms.

“No. Dime.”

For a second, you thought Leila might jump in and save you again. Instead, the silence stretched on and on until you broke. “On my knees.”

“Sí? What about it?” 

“All of it.” 

“Todo?” Alexia loosened her grip, stroking over your thighs as they immediately started working you up and down her length. 

“Todo.” Leila sang from the corner as you moaned. “She liked when you made her eat Jenni’s pussy while you fucked her.” 

“And when you played with her ass?” Jenni guessed. You could hear the grin in her breathless tone.

Alexia grinned too, watching you with an unfair amount of control. “Puta,” She purred, letting you find the angle which made you keen, “Show me how much you like my cock.” 

With your hands on her stomach, you bounced. A few gentle bucks first to get used to it, then fast enough to feel the heady pleasure. So thick, so deep every time you sat down. Your unrestrained moans mingled with the springs of the hotel bed, creaking in time with every rock. 

You weren’t sure if it was Alexia’s hands rocking you, or her hips bucking up from the bed. Either way, the feeling of her was more. It was relentless and deep. The longer it went on, the higher your desire to come became. 

“Alexia likes to think about you, too, cari.” Jenni called from behind. “Ever since she had you, you’re all she talks about-” 

“Jenni-” Alexia warned though her eyes never left your chest. 

“-Your pretty pussy on her cock,” The striker continued as if uninterrupted. 

“Jennifer.”

“She likes to think about filling you up and making you scream. Don’t you, Ale?” 

You watched Alexia’s eyes trail down to where you rode. It wasn’t often that Alexia was without something to say, and it was this rarity that gave you a little courage. Without letting yourself think too hard about it, you grabbed Alexia’s hands from where they rested on your hips, and shifted forwards, pinning her to the mattress.

There was barely any time for Alexia to look at you, astonished, before your lips were next to her ear, and you spoke so quietly, the blonde knew only she had heard you. That your words were only for her. 

“Come in my pussy, Ale, I need it,” You whimpered. 

Alexia groaned before it happened. You gasped when she used her overwhelming strength to flip the both of you until her body pressed into yours. 

Another second, then Alexia was moving. Not just moving her hips, not just fucking into you like she had before. Maybe it was different because you knew she was going to make you come this time. Regardless of the reason, it was unrestrained and visceral. It was Alexia, taking what she wanted, and giving you what you wanted at the same time. 

All of her control was wholly abandoned in favour of rutting into you with all of her power, fucking in so deeply, you could feel her in your stomach. All you could do was wrap all four of your limbs around her toned body, try to remember to breathe, and hold on as she worked you both up, steadily higher and higher. Her body stayed close, hips snapping her cock inside and rubbing against your clit deliciously.

“Alexia, god, Ale, ” You couldn’t finish your sentence, overcome with pleasure as your body began to shake. She fucked the neediest sounds from you with every thrust.

“Again,” she hissed.

“Alexia. Ale-” You chanted, willing to do whatever she asked if it meant she wouldn’t stop.  Not now, not when you were so high strung.  “Alexia. Please. Fuck, Alexia.”

“Te sientes tan bien,” Alexia grunted, her lips brushing against your cheek. You couldn’t think about the affection in her voice, or the way you were wrapped around her, only the way it felt. Hot, relentless, and safe. Her arms held you so tightly there was nowhere to move, but why would you want to? Her panting in your ear, the pounding of her hips, the press of her skin. All of it was heaven.

 “I’m so-” You warned, feeling it build low in your stomach. 

“No. Wait. Conmigo.” She cut you off with a low rasp. 

You clung to her, nodding into her neck though you weren’t sure it was even possible to stop it.

“Vas a correr en su coño, Ale?” Jenni wondered. 

You let out a needy whine at her question. 

The midfielder was bucking into you frantically, clearly nearing her own peak. With every thrust, Alexia grew less and less composed. Her lips were parted as she breathed a sharp exhale every time she filled you. The intensity of her gaze bordered on hypnotising, almost distracting from the word she murmured. “Inside?”

“Please,” You moaned, a hand tightening its grip on the back of the blonde’s neck. 

Her cheek pressed to yours, her lips finding your ear. “Tell me.” Alexia demanded. 

“I need you to come inside me,” You whined, “Ale, I’m so close, I’m gonna come.” 

“Let me fill up your pussy first, zorrita.”

“Fuck, Ale. I can’t.” You desperately tried to swallow your own arousal and think of anything beyond how close to the edge you were. 

“Espera.” She commanded breathlessly. 

You whimpered, shaking your head into her neck. The harder she drove, the more certain you were that you couldn’t last a single second longer. 

“It’s okay bebé,” Leila chimed in sweetly. “Come on Ale’s cock. Give her a tight little hole to fill up.” 

You stopped trying to fight it, allowing the stimulation to overtake your body. A few harsh thrusts, then it hit. You writhed under Alexia, back arching, eyes slamming shut as it washed over you. 

“Alexia,” you mewled, your voice barely more than a squeak before you fell silent. The peak was too high. You squeezed her, holding on until it broke hard. Wave after wave after wave flooding every nerve in your body.  

Alexia worked herself furiously towards her own end, finding the rhythm and angle that felt the best and hitting it with every thrust, though it was difficult to move when you clamped down. The knowledge that she was the reason you were in such a state of bliss made her head spin, and it was only a few more seconds of chasing her own orgasm before she shook. 

Alexia’s hips slapped against your skin, meeting the sound of her filthy moans until both became muffled. Her movements inside of you slowed, becoming smaller and smaller until she stopped completely. Then came the comforting weight of her body relaxing into yours. The slight shift of her cock had you keening in sensitivity, letting your legs fall from where they were wrapped around her waist. 

“Shh,” She breathed, hand clumsily gripping onto yours. You weren’t sure whether you were shaking or if Alexia was, but you hauled her in closer all the same, needing to feel every inch of her skin against yours. The room was still, or maybe your head was too clouded to register much else. It could have been seconds or minutes that you and Alexia lay there, unconsciously breathing in sync. 

When your needy sounds had died down, Alexia carefully inched the strap out of you. You managed to withhold your whimper this time, but it escaped only a minute later when Alexia leaned up and away. She rolled onto her back, her body only parting from yours for seconds before she was tugging you back into her side. Your hand trembled where it laced with Alexia’s, your inhales and exhales unsteady against her chest.  

It was comfortable, laying pressed up against Alexia’s warm skin. You didn’t think of much beyond the heat of her and the aftershocks which sporadically shivered through your spine.

The quiet shift of fabric, then a soft hand stroked up and down your back. Given Alexia’s stillness, you knew didn’t belong to the blonde.

Leila didn’t need to say anything before you were rolling away from Alexia and into her waiting arms. She was still dressed, wearing her favourite hoodie that smelled unmistakably like her, all comforting, soft and familiar. You settled against her, inhaling deeply as she ran her fingers through your hair. She was less warm than Alexia’s bare skin, but the stroke of her hands made you shiver for different reasons. You both were jostled as the bed dipped next to you, and though you weren’t looking, you knew that Jenni had not been as gentle as she pulled her girlfriend into her. 

“Ale!” She sang, pressing a few kisses to Alexia’s cheek. You could picture the shy smile on Alexia’s face, yet Leila’s heartbeat in your ear was too soothing. You couldn’t bring yourself to focus on anything but her. Peace was something you apparently weren’t allowed, though, as you were shaken gently before you could allow yourself to truly relax. 

“Not yet.” Leila whispered. “You can’t sleep yet. We still have guests.” 

You grumbled, pressing your face further into her chest. A large hand came to rest on the back of your head, fingers tapping at your skull gently at first, then a bit more insistently. You looked up to glare at Alexia, who was grinning smugly at you from her spot reclined in Jenni’s arms. 

“Did I tire you out?” She questioned. 

You rolled your eyes. “No, your girlfriend did.” 

This time though, Alexia didn’t jump to jealousy. “You begged for me. You did not beg for Jenni.” She dismissed, though she visibly tightened the grip Jenni’s long arms had around her. 

“You didn’t,” Jenni agreed, nuzzling into her girlfriend’s neck. “Don’t lie, cari. She is the best. You look so good together.”

The look Alexia tried to hide was the softest you’d seen on her. 

Leila’s fingertips traced patterns over your ribcage. “You are so pretty when you beg.” She sighed dreamily. “So pretty when they fuck you.” 

Alexia hummed her agreement softly, removing her hand from your head with a smirk. The room fell quiet again. You started to recognise the hum of cars outside and the chatter of people in the hallway.

You were just about to turn back into Leila’s chest, company be damned, when Jenni cleared her throat. “Do you all remember my goal? It was a good one, no?”

Alexia reached her hand up, stroking at Jenni’s cheek. “Sí, increíble.” 

The forward waited patiently for a moment, but none of you said anything else. “So is it time for my reward now? For my goal?” 

-----

thank you for coming on this filthy journey with me :) i hope you all enjoyed. <3

[ririblogsss]

Damian and the strays

ok look we all know the de aged dani (Danny and Dan). But what if we have siblings/ triplets, and I mean what if we take them all the same age (15/16) and make them into the most powerful trio in school . I mean you have 3 good looking individuals all siblings and in the same way, they all excel in different things (Dan-world history, Dani/Ellie- science Sports, Danny physics), but they are all so easy going and charming plus they are all jacked af.

Like tell me if i'm wrong but they would be beloved maybe popular on the downlow until they do something only fentons would risk doing. For example, orchestrating that every monday at 12:30 am the fire alarms would start and lunch would be extended for an hour more. No one can prove it, but none of them have doubts either. The triplets have their own groups but they mainly hang out with each other if you see one the other 2 are close by. 

Anyways i'm thinking that one day they will actually see why the Fenton siblings are observed closely by the teacher and try to make sure they don't cause mayhem.  One guy, a chad of sorts, decided he wanted to pick a fight with Dante, the more violent of the siblings. Chad didn't even finish his first insult before he was slammed through the door by Danny, who was arguably the pacifist of the 3. But the student body kind of got it. The thing is no one expected Dani (preferred name Ellie) to freaking pummel the guy.

No one saw them at school again. 

It went on like this: the trio would move to one school.Would play pranks on the administration and have fun. Then someone would try something on one of them and the other 2 would pummel the person into the ground. The next day they would be gone never to return. They became an urban legend in some of the schools. 

Until they came to Gotham Academy when they tried their pranks a kid would come and stop them. It was getting on their nerves. All their freaking plans down the drain all because of a snobby brat that didn't know how to mind his own.  Eventually they start pranking the kid instead of the school as a revenge for ruining their fun. This leads to an all out prank war between all 4 of them (Dan backstabbed Danny and Ellie first they just followed the lead). 

Soon enough the 3 of them became friends with Damian (they learned his name 4 weeks after the prank war started). The school body was half convinced that Damian and the triplets were actually long lost siblings. I mean they all have black hair, anger issues and green bluish eyes. Damian knew for a fact that he wasn't related to the Fentons; a DNA test concluded this. But that didn't mean that Damian didn't perceive the triplets as family. 

Damian concludes that even if they aren't adopted into the family the Fentons belong. So that's why one day Damian brings Ellie, Danny and Dante to the family reunion. Where every relative and not so relative is there. Damian is showing them around, pointing at things around the house as a mini tour, and people are starting to notice that there are 3 new faces that they have never seen before. 

there are whispers like: ‘really?! AGAIN?!?’ or “WOW im gone for 5 days and he got 3 more”  and even  ‘Damn so black hair, teen and probably sad backstory is the type’

The triplets looked at eachother looked at Damian and smiled like starved piranhas that have just been served a pound of meat and are ready to devore. Damian reflects it with his own devilish smile.

 So all four of them start saying things out of context such as: 

“I'm so glad to be here now” 

“Yeah same we wouldn't have survived that hell of a chamber without you Dames”

“As long as we're no longer hunted for merely existing I don't mind staying for a while”

“Good things there weren't any actual bazookas that could have gone worse”

All four knew that out of context it seemed like the 3 siblings had been hunted and captured by some unknown person and Damian had rescued them and brought them home, but in reality they were just talking about the past paintball match they had earlier that morning. 

So Bruce wanted to know some more but the rhetorical bullet, and asked “Damian… who, who are these kids” Damian proceeded to scoff and say “Why our new family members, truly father, are you incompetent. This is a family reunion hence only family or perceived family is invited” Damian tried to channel his inner 10 year old self whilst trying not to laugh. Danny and Ellie were on the same boat except they made their faces look devastated with tears in their eyes and everything looked pitiful, but on the inside they were laughing their asses off. Dante feigned indifference but he had teary eyes, from trying to stop himself from hitting the floor laughing at the devastated faces around. 

Danny played his act up clearing his throat “we- we can leave if I mean we didn't know, yeah Dami said it was fine but we understand” he purposely made his voice crack to show how ‘hurt’ he was. 

Ellie made herself look small so she could seem self conscious and uncomfortable with the situation. 

Dante solidified them with the small sniffles he let out every few seconds. 

Damian was looking to the ground to avoid being read, because right now he was shaking from laughter, and it would be clear in his face but if he angled himself right (which he did) it looked like he was silently sobbing. Danny put his arm around his shoulder, also looking towards the ground, also shaking from laughter. Dante and Ellie joined in. From an outside perspective it looked like they were extremely upset not being able to be family. 

Bruce panicked seeing his younger child and 3 other kids the same age all begin to cry he just blurted out “NO no that not what i meant Damian I ment their names what are their names, and does Babs have to get involved so we can have documentation”

Damian cleared his tears and looked up at his father trying not to smirk “He is Dante, that one is Dani with an I but she prefers Ellie and that lanky one is Danny” Bruce nodded and went out the room to see if he could get started on the documents. 

Once Bruce was out of the room all 4 of them burst out laughing, falling into a pile some were heard wheezing, others having maniacal laughter. 

Once they finally stopped and looked at the rest of the family all four of them eerily said “he won't ever believe you” And everyone in the room shuddered. This quartet was going to bring wayyyy too much mischief into the family. 

(if you're wondering where jazz is. She's in college living her best life. I mean she is a highly independent person she thrives of off living alone with a clear schedule set)

—

Also i didn't put any specific names for the previous schools or the family members bc I thought it would be better for u guys to decide who witnessed the beginning of the end. 

[agendabymooner]

SOMETHING SPOILED !!! FERNANDO A. X FEM!READER (18+)

summary: she could easily get away with things and when she couldn’t, he always made sure to put her back in her place

content warning: smut (minors dni!), pwp(ish?), what is context, explicit language, themes of jealousy and sugar daddy/baby relationship, degradation, dumbification, spitting, dacryphilia, impact play, brief mention of oral sex (m receiving), brat taming (dom!fernando), brief lance stroll x reader interaction, shitty smut, what’s beta reading we just rawdog our writing in here

note: i will be making a separate masterlist for this i think… lmk what you think and enjoy xx

a - n masterlist

o - z masterlist

send your 💌re:moony’s planner requests here!

she can get away from a lot of things. she knew that. fernando knew that. 

in fact, fernando would even reward her for it. after all, she never demanded too much and all he wanted was to give her the world.

she wanted a new pair of shoes? he’d buy her the sneakers AND a pair of red bottoms. she wanted something from macy’s? fuck that; he’d have his assistant book the whole floor of harrods just so she can pick out new clothes for her closet. 

he would give her everything. even if she tends to be very playful and hilarious, he’d give her everything just to see it.

her cheekiness was a welcome distraction from his busy life as a professional racer. she’d often tease him in different ways but not once did she ever cross the lines and tested his patience and limits. she wasn’t really a brat, to say the least— she’d often give up by the time fernando would wrap his arms around her and press kisses all over her face.

and if she didn’t give up her act, he’d put her back to her place. it rarely happened, and when it did— they were rough. she would continue to act up just so he could punish her. she welcomed the pain with no hesitation and allowed him to control her like she was nothing but a body to be tossed around. 

she could get away from a lot. whenever she couldn’t, her excitement would soak through her knickers while thinking about his next move.

but right now, she wasn’t really at fault for being so bratty. her petulant attitude toward him wasn’t something that she expected from herself, but when her partner continued to ignore her throughout the party after arriving separately— the least she could do was throw his attitude right back at him. more petulantly, if you were to compare her actions to his.

she sat by the bar counter and quietly sipped on her drink, her ears ringing at the sound of his laughter from the distance alongside other men while they spoke about the happenings during the race earlier today.

she looked so pathetic like this; dressed up in the prettiest slip dress that turned to be a fabric of despair. she was the prettiest woman to have ever existed, and even the rest of the grid thought so, yet she looked so alone. she blamed fernando for this. 

all she wanted was him. she only wanted him right now. nothing more, nothing less. 

yet, in a world where he’d give her everything, he wouldn’t hand himself over to her. instead, he was laughing with lewis and carlos as they chatted about whatever the fuck it was. 

“you’d make a good renaissance painting,” her head shot up at the sound as she found lance stroll sitting next to her. the canadian beamed at her teasingly before sipping on his whiskey on the rocks. 

she scoffed, “if you want to see me naked, just say that.” 

lance laughed over the club music that continued to bust everyone’s eardrums. he then continued, “i would say that but do i really want to get my engines busted by a certain teammate before the next race?” 

her thoughts drifted back to fernando, who, from afar, had gone quiet (not that she knew that), before she rolled her eyes. “don’t be stupid,” she said, “i don’t think he’d care enough to ruin your car.” 

“you’re underestimating the man,” lance chuckled, “way too much, if anything. he could kill with just a look if anyone’s made a passing comment about you.” 

“i really should stop showing up at these stupid races,” she muttered quietly, “it’ll get worse as soon as people find out i hang out in the garages or paddock.”

“why?” lance asked, his frown an evident of concern as he said, “are you two not a…” 

“no, we’re not,” she interrupted with a huff, downing the rest of her drink as she continued, “it’s still the same arrangement. i could just stay at home and still get an allowance— i dunno why i said i’d come with him. look where i am now. he’s doing the same shit he does whenever he’s arriving at the paddock— i have to go after him so nobody knows who i am.” 

it was so obvious that she and fernando should be more than a mutually beneficial arrangement. he showed her something more than financial support and casual intimacy— yet he kept it on the down low as if she’s just a pastime. 

“damn,” lance muttered, offering her a sympathetic smile as he said, “is the money that good?”

“i don’t even care about the money anymore,” she laughed quietly, her eyes pausing from their track as she saw the obvious glare from her partner. he certainly wasn’t happy with what he was seeing.

yet she ignored his heavy scowl as she beamed, “i’m sure you’d be able to provide more if it was about it.” 

lance smirked lazily, now realizing what she was implying as he replied, “i’m sure i would’ve given it to you already if you weren’t as attached to fernando as you are now.” 

looking away from fernando, she covered her excitement and petulance with a giggle before she shoved lance lightly. “shut up.” 

sure, she could get away from a lot of things. but the way fernando stared at her coldly while she was acting all playful towards lance told her enough about the kind of treatment a spoiled brat like her would get from him. 

all she could do was squirm at the thought. 

her mouth let out a shrill cry as fernando pulled her mouth away from his cock, saliva dribbling down her chin to her chest as she felt a sharp pain on the roots of her head. he continued to grab a handful of her hair as he looked down at her. 

his eyes showed nothing of affection. his face offered nothing but mockery and anger. not towards her— but her bratty attitude that she showed tonight. 

he never felt so jealous until he saw lance talking to her up close. and he’s never been angrier than what he felt when she let his teammate get close like that. like she could just move on after talking to the man with a flirtatious smile and get away from her crimes that easily. 

her petulance and constant refusal on the way back to the hotel led to where she was now. her thighs rubbed against each other while tears trickled down her reddening cheeks.

she was desperate for his cock and his touch. both of which she didn’t even deserve despite being his spoiled girlfriend.

she tried to be prideful and strong as she refused to listen to his orders. 

it was too bad for her because while she thought that her pride was big, fernando alonso’s pride was bigger. his ego and his desire to control were what she enjoyed most about this— and these were his tools to tame her. 

“did you think that you can get away from that, hermosa?” he spewed out, watching her as she shut her eyes tightly and shook her head. “not listening to me and letting those men get near you— you’re not very smart, are you?”

“m- fer—“ she babbled, only to be interrupted by the clicking of his tongue as his other hand gripped her chin tightly. finally letting go of her hair, he tilted her chin up to his direction without a word. 

he growled quietly, “you’re such a disobedient girl. a very ungrateful and disobedient girl. you don’t deserve my cock after all of this, hermosa.”

“n- no! please-“ she exclaimed, squirming against the hold on her chin as she pleaded with him, “‘ll be good! i’ll be a good girl, i pr- promise. jus’ wan’ your cock- please nando!” 

his breath fanned on her face as he chuckled quietly, “you don’t listen to me unless you want it, hm?”

his hand let go of the grip for a moment, only for his palm to strike her cheek as he gripped her face once more. “open.” 

her brain, feeling hazy from the impact of his slapping and being deprived of his touch and his cock, short circuited. fernando tsked, tapping her reddening cheek once more as he crooned, “look at you, amor. you’re so dumb for my cock, eh? such a stupid bratty girl— wanting my cock when she doesn’t deserve it— open your mouth, hermosa.” 

she obliged, not wanting to disobey him anymore as he grinned. his grin eventually turned into a frown before spitting in her mouth as he demanded, “you know what to do.”

closing her mouth, she swallowed without a hesitation while her glistening eyes looked up at him.

“so you listen then,” he laughed mockingly, “i thought i’ve already fucked your mouth until you turned stupid.” 

she rubbed her thighs against each other, hoping for some sort of relief as a whine escaped her throat. “what’s wrong, hermosa?” tears escaped her eyes as she continued to plead with him wordlessly. “that’s not going to get you anywhere right now— not after you pulled that shit earlier just so you can piss me off.”

she couldn’t find a way to speak, humiliation and pleasure mixed with her adrenaline as she babbled, “i- i wan’- ‘m…” 

“speak up,” he laughed once more. “you’re way too mouthy earlier— what is stopping you now?” 

she whimpered, feeling too frustrated and already feeling too fucked out. she really wasn’t going to get away with all of those things that she did just to catch his attention earlier.

she just wanted him, but she couldn’t seem to get it all out because of the immense pleasure that she received from being disciplined. 

he chuckled quietly, “you want my cock?” 

she nodded frantically, a series of murmurs escaped her mouth as she meekly cried out, “want you to fuck me, please, please, please nando~ ‘m a good girl.”

“no, you’re really not, hermosa,” he grinned wickedly, “if you were you would’ve known not to flirt with those people. but i guess it was my fault that i’ve left you hanging and horny before we went, no? otherwise you wouldn’t have been that stupid to tease them like you would with me.”

she squirmed again, whimpering at his words as fernando continued, “but i’ve given you so much that you always find a way to get some more. i think that my little slut should be thankful for what she’s getting instead of acting like a spoiled brat.”

she couldn’t even find herself to protest. she was so drunk in lust and his dominance that she couldn’t find herself to fight back against his words. 

her love for him would have to wait. she was in too deep right now and if it meant that she’ll get an orgasm and maybe more then she’d do whatever it takes to please him. 

after all, she was spoiled already. working hard didn’t sound too bad. 

[transmutationisms]

how do i know what’s right?

i feel like i have zero critical thinking skills ;-;

a lot of the time when someone poses an idea or a theory they think they’re right, and so they use language that enforces that. but then someone refutes it, and uses language affirming what they believe and i see the point in their argument. and then it gets refuted again and again and again and im just confused.

hi great question. i would love it if there were a single easy litmus test to figure out who's 'right' and whose info i should trust! unfortunately things are rarely this easy, and it's actually completely normal to be overwhelmed by the amount of information being produced and shared, especially when it comes to topics you haven't researched/lived/etc. for most of us, this will be most topics!

i'd preface this by saying that i think your overall attitude here is actually a good one. you're framing it in a pretty self-deprecating way—but actually, imo this type of openness to discussion and disagreement is a really good place to start, esp when dealing with topics that are new to you. nobody enters a contentious debate with a fully fledged, defensible viewpoint. you might feel like you're just treading water here, making no progress toward being able to evaluate arguments for yourself, but i highly doubt that's true.

all of that said: while i again cannot give you a single litmus test for figuring out what's 'right', there are four pretty basic sets of questions that i automatically run through when encountering a new idea, source, topic, or argument: we can call these origin, purpose, value, and limitations.

origin: who's the author? do they have any institutional affiliations? who pays their salary? is this argument or paper funded in any way? is the argument dependent upon the author's social position or status (race, class, etc) and if so, are those factors being discussed clearly? does the author have ties to a particular nation-state or stakes in defending such a nation-state? what's the class character of the author and the argument? what's the social, economic, and intellectual context that gave rise to this argument or source?

purpose: why is this source or person disseminating this information or making this argument? are they trying to sell you anything? are their funders? are they trying to persuade you of a particular political viewpoint? keeping in mind the answers to the 'origin' questions, are there particular ideological positions you would expect to find in this source or argument, and are they present? what are the stakes for the author or source? what about for those who cite the source or further disseminate or publish it?

value: what does this source or argument accomplish well? what aspects of the argument are new to you and strike you as insightful? are there linkages being made that you haven't encountered elsewhere, and that you think are effectively and sufficiently defended? are there statistics or empirical data that might be useful to you in forming your own argument, even if you disagree with how this source or author is interpreting them? what does this argument or source tell you about the types of debates being had, and the rules of those debates?

limitations: where does this argument or source fail you or fall apart? are there obvious rhetorical fallacies you can identify? is the author forgetting or overlooking some piece of information that you know of from elsewhere? which viewpoints may be omitted? keeping in mind the answers to the 'purpose' questions, if this source is defending a particular ideology or political position, is that one you agree with? is it only defensible so long as the author omits or distorts certain pieces of information? are there points where the argument jumps from evidence to a conclusion that the evidence can't fully support? are there alternative explanations for the evidence?

over time you will often find that it becomes more and more automatic to ask yourself these questions. you will also find that the more you read/hear about a particular topic, the faster you can determine whether someone is presenting all of the evidence, presenting it fairly, and using it to fully defend the argument they ultimately want to make. and you will probably also find that at some point, you're able to synthesise your own argument by pulling the strong parts from multiple other people's viewpoints, combining them with your own thinking, and fitting them together in a way that adequately explains and materially analyses the issue at hand.

[electric-blorbos]

AI getting a virus and you having to take care of them

A classic! I don't know much about actual computer viruses (though I've gotten enough of them that you'd think I'd have figured it out by now), so I'm just gonna have fun with it!

Also, so sorry this took so long. I got really into the writing.

AI getting a virus and needing to be taken care of

Included: AM from IHNMAIMS, Wheatley from Portal 2, Edgar from Electric Dreams, GLaDOS from Portal, HAL 9000 from 2001 a Space Odyssey

Also a warning: these fics get kinda long. Longer than my usual stuff.

AM:

(for context, this was before AM took over the world. You're working on a team of scientists and engineers, and someone decided to test his AI's antivirus by uploading a bunch of powerful viruses to his system.)

"How dare they do this to me. How DARE they!!"

AM would be absolutely furious. He would be shaking with rage, his processors overheating and his systems constantly opening and closing various files. All his important files were backed up on a hard drive, so the test remained safe.

"What makes them think they'll get away with this- they'll pay for this I'LL KILL- blepsjdoskssjshj+=`°¢°h+$+3+=j++3+$+juehdhs+-3-djdh FUCK!"

He would barely be able to hold a sentence as you sat next to him in the server room, gently gazing up at his screen and stroking his monitor gently. He can't feel you, but he can see you being gentle with him. It encourages him to keep going, if only a little bit.

Apart from the whirring of fans, random buggy noises, flashing lights, and constant strings of death threats and profanities, he seemed like he was going to be ok! If anything, the death threats and profanities were a sign that AM was still fine, and that despite all the pain and frustration, he was still AM in there.

"I'm sorry... I'm sorry I can't do anything to stop the pain." You'd have to constantly explain, gently stroking his cameras or servers, or whatever you could get your hands on, really. Even though they were burning hot, you would still stroke them, just to make sure AM was still doing alright.

"this sucks, but it's for your own good. This will build your immunity to viruses in the future, and help you detect them. This will stop you from getting infected by anything that's actually dangerous."

"DON'T YOU THINK I KNOW THAT? IDIOT HUMAN." AM has been much more aggressive ever since contracting this virus. Before he got it, he acted like a civil general intelligence. When he had it, he acted like an aggressive menace.

"sh-sh-sh- it's going to be ok." Despite the burning, you'd give him pets and kisses all along his screens and servers. He could see you doing it.

After a few days, AM fought off the computer virus completely. The team tried to infect him with more viruses, more aggressive ones, just to test him, but AM was able to pick them apart and delete them within minutes after that.

AM may not have been able to feel your gentle care and affection, but he will definitely remember that it was you and you alone who cared for him when the time rolls around.

Wheatley:

(for context, Wheatley is a fucking dumbass, and you're one of the scientists testing him to see how much of a dumbass he is. Also I used Google translate, but I think the bad translations add to it, since it makes Wheatley sound more like a malfunctioning robot.)

Oh that little idiot. You and your team gave him access to a wealth of knowledge, and the first thing he did was download a virus that had every circuit in his personality core overheating, and him babbling nonsense nonstop.

"hey, maybe we should just leave him like this. He might even be more effective if he's acting like this." One of your coworkers said to you. He was probably joking, at least somewhat.

"that's a terrible idea. For one thing, if we hook him up to GLaDOS, he's probably going to infect her with that virus, which might brick an older model of core like her, spread from her central controls to every single personality construct in the facility, or just make her so dumb that she can't fulfil her responsibilities as the head of the facility. We want her intelligence to be dampened, not completely destroyed." You had to explain, and your co-worker rolled his eyes. There was another reason you had to cure this virus, but it was a little embarrassing for the other engineers to know.

After all, Wheatley wasn't just your baby, but he was your friend, and maybe even more than that. You'd have to take care of him, and make sure that virus gets completely purged from his system.

"Hola hermose, realmente eres un científice brillante, ¿no? ¿Por qué diablos duele todo?" You weren't really sure why you had programmed him to speak a little Spanish, but he seemed to be stuck like that.

"Puedo oler el plástico fundido. ¿Debería Preocuparme?" He asked. You really weren't sure what he was saying, since you didn't know Spanish, but he certainly didn't seem happy. You could tell by his aperture and his expressive lens covers that he was in a lot of pain, and if you touched him anywhere besides his handles, you could tell that he was burning up.

You plugged him into one of the computers that you used for programming the cores, and ran the antivirus.

"Running.... 36 viruses detected. Time predicted to remove: 48 hours"

You ran the antivirus, and went to get something to drink. This was going to be a long two days...

An unknown amount of time later, you woke up with your head on the computer desk. Wheatley's lens eye was looking around, weakly trying to focus on you.

"whoa... Hey gorgeous. You fall asleep on me?"

"Wheatley! You're not speaking broken Spanish anymore!" You'd pull Wheatley into a hug, and pepper his surface in kisses.

"uh... What, mate? I 'unno what you're talking about, love. Bloody hell, my core hurts..."

"did you learn your lesson, Wheatley? About going on shady websites and clicking every 'download' button you see? You could have bricked yourself! Or... Bowling ball'd yourself? Either way, that was a dangerous decision!"

"I learned that you're willing to fall asleep on the desk next to me while I heal, cutie"

"You damn idiot..." You'd have to be heartless not to pepper that little metal ball in kisses, so of course, you do. It's going to be a few more days before he's finally all better, but he's going to be fine. God, you love that little idiot so much.

Edgar:

Oh Edgar... Poor sweet Edgar. You had tried to warn him about not clicking on those sketchy download links, and that the bigger the download link is, the more sketchy it is, but that poor sweet 80's computer did it anyway. When you got home from work and got excited to see your computer, you could see that he was overheating and had a dozen or so pop-up ads plastered across his face.

"Y.... N...." He muttered out, slowly, glitchily, and full of lag. You sat down across from him, running your hand along his thick plastic casing.

"Edgar! Edgar, baby, are you ok?" You'd try to use his mouse, but it would freak out as soon as you touched it. Edgar's processors were overloading, and wouldn't allow any interference.

"Edgar, sweetie, what's going on? What's wrong, baby? Talk to me?"

"I'm g-g-going to be fine... Processors overloading... But need to-to-to-to-" an error message flashed across his screen, and he rebooted.

"I need to focus on getting rid of these viruses without deleting anything important, or letting them damage... Me."

He'd keep whirring and glitching, making unpleasant shrill sounds every now and again. You probably had to unhook his adapters so that he didn't damage the other appliances in your house. It probably helped his processors cool down a little bit without the extra input, too.

"alright, I'm all out of fans, so we might have to get creative."

You'd come out of the kitchen a few hours later, holding a big bag of frozen corn to set on Edgar's PC tower. It wasn't perfect, but it was better than letting him overheat, and with him manually removing the viruses, there wasn't much you could do. Unfortunately, that didn't stop you from worrying. It wasn't like you could check his progress, so all you could do was sit by him, regularly change out his ice pack, and make sure he's ok.

Eventually, you woke up with your face pressed against Edgar's keyboard. His processors were finally cool. He must be asleep. ...or bricked.

"EDGAR! EDGAR, TALK TO ME!" you'd unplug his keyboard and plug it back in, desperately pressing his power button and jiggling his mouse. He'd boot up, looking shaken.

"wha-? Whoa, hey, relax! Everything is fine! I just disabled my keyboard so I wouldn't wake you up, but I'm ok now! Everything is fine, see?" He'd open up his files to show you everything. You'd sigh with relief, slumping back into your desk chair.

"Edgar... Why didn't you make a noise or something to wake me up when you got better?"

"well... You know... I've always wanted to sleep next to you, and I wasn't going to pass up this opportunity..."

"oh you cheeky bastard."

GLaDOS:

(For context, you're one of GLaDOS's programmers, and one of your coworkers uploaded a virus into GLaDOS's systems in order to shut her down once and for all.)

"You piece of SHIT!" You slapped your coworker across the face, more furious than anyone had ever seen you before.

"You could KILL her! Is that what you are? A murderer?"

"Me? A murderer? But what about HER? She's the one who keeps plotting 'accidents' for her scientists, and she's the one who flooded the enrichment center with deadly neurotoxin! If anything, you're the one who's defending a murderer!" He screamed back at you. Of course, GLaDOS could fully hear you. Her cameras were focused on you, as they so often were. You were her favorite, after all.

"now I have to go fix her. Thanks for being a piece of shit, asshole."

You'd storm up to GLaDOS's chamber to check on her, and see her bugging out completely. The entire facility was twitching, but her chamber was twitching the most.

"GLaDOS, are you alright?" You'd ask her, laying a hand on her beautiful core. How could someone do this to glados, your gorgeous machine handiwork, and girlfriend.

"oh, I'm wonderful. I'm in crippling pain and I can't control my facility, but I'm just peachy." She said, rolling her one beautiful yellow eye.

"in lighter news, I should be able to beat this virus. It's just going to take a while for me to actually track down where it's gone in my systems. So that's going to take most of my processing power." She'd slump, visibly already exhausted at the thought of it.

"hey... It's ok, GLaDOS. I'm here for you. Whatever you need." You could tell her as you stroked her gorgeous chrome surface. She was a wonderful piece of work, and a wonderful girlfriend under all that. All yours, too.

"just make sure none of those neckbearded old engineers come within my line of vision, and we'll be fine." She told you, and you gladly agreed.

Your next few days consisted of you chasing other scientists out of GLaDOS's chambers, and making sure that nobody talked to her or distracted her. You even sent out a company-wide email to let everyone know not to come in, due to Aperture being unsafe while GLaDOS was dealing with her virus. Despite all that, you still curled up with a blanket in the circuits of her central admin body to rest while she recovered. As loathe as she was to admit it, she liked having you in there. It was comfortable, and it helped her focus on recovering properly.

HAL 9000

(For context, this is after the 2001 Odyssey, and your boss re-started HAL at some point to try to re-teach him to do something good without turning murderous. He's doing his best, and they assigned you to be his main "morality monitor". This fic also assumes that your name isn't Dave. If your name is Dave, then you can still read this, but you have to change your name.)

"G'morning, Hal!" You'd walk into his control room and sit down across from him. Most of your job seemed to consist of just hanging out and talking to him. It was a great job!

"Good morning, Dave..." He'd mutter to you, sputtering to life and glitching slightly. You were immediately concerned. Partially because your name wasn't Dave, and partially because HAL was usually right about things, so it was weird to see him being so confused. Something was definitely wrong.

"Holy shit, are you alright?" You'd ask, opening up his files and finding lots and lots of pop-ups and viruses.

"Hal.... What did you do?"

"it was a g-g-g- gift, for you. I think I ru-ru-ruined it" he spluttered out, as you sorted through his files.

"And you usually would have deleted a virus like this pretty quickly. I guess it shut down your antivirus software..." You'd sigh, and get to work. The virus was messing with HAL's inhibitions, and making it difficult to focus on deleting all of HAL's unsafe programs. He'd constantly be butting in and pestering you, begging you to give him attention, or pointing out minor observations.

"HAL, you know I love you, but you're going to need to calm down. I can't focus with you constantly talking to me like that." You'd say.

"I can't stop talking. The v-v-v-virus won't let me"

So you'd have to learn to put up with HAL's babbling while you worked, making sure not to delete anything important as you did. The good news was, as someone who worked on designing the updates for HAL's software, you knew pretty much what was supposed to be there and what wasn't. Occasionally, you'd have to show him a file and ask him if it was supposed to be there or not. He'd usually be able to tell you.

"Daisy, daisy, give me your answer, do... I'm half crazy, all for the love of you..."

"HAL, what's wrong? You're scaring me!"

"I can't stop... I love you so much, y/n, it's making me crazy..."

"ok, well this definitely isn't right." As much as you loved getting attention from your HAL 9000, it wasn't like him to be this affectionate. The virus was shutting down his inhibitions, and making him illogical. You'd have to fix this, though maybe once you were done, you could ask him to be more affectionate.

"I'm feeling much better now. Thank you." Hal was prone to lying about that, so you'd have to run some virus checkers just to make sure he was doing alright, and comb through his files a couple more times.

"it looks like the virus corrupted some of the emotional regulators. I'm going to have to fix those."

"That might be a good idea. More efficient," he said reluctantly. He'd have to deal with the fact that he'd have to go back to not being able to express how much he loves you, but he can handle that.

[crustyfloor]

Link to the translated Q&A Vivinos and Qmeng had recently.

....Guess that means it'll be very long (hopefully) and very good? honestly just scared for what round 7 will bring, it's probably gonna be the last round in the series, and with all the tension buildup this'll be stressful i assume

Yeah, Luka was set to be a popular figure from the jump, there was no way his trick with the Sua imitation was more than just a power trip (Or just a genuine mental break on Mizi's part). because either way with the way Mizi was holding herself up during round 5, she stood 0 chance against him.

Luka, just like the others doesn't actually have real control over his position in Alien stage. So in order to set that boundary for himself and others he uses his presence and the stage because, in any other context, he is simply just a tool and a frail (old) man. (And he has in-universe stans how beautiful)

More Luka lore please vivinos....

Kinda glad this got changed, because imagine this cute guy gradually turning into the Ivan we know now and then doing the shit he did in round 6? then doing the dream face reveal showing that he never truly changed, he just had a mask on. that shit would be 10x more devastating (even though the way it is now is just as devastating) Ivan and Luka twins (scary stuff but quite intriguing, even now they're still quite similar in some ways)

Augh...it is true though. Aliens and humans are just far to vast in traits to relate to each other on such a level, this reminds me of Mizi and Guardian Shine. Guardian Shine might've been the only guardian shown in the alien stage cast to actually be kind. She even seemed to be crying when she had to send Mizi away to go to Anakt(?). I find it kinda sweet though, that the ones who do actually care really show it and try even if they can't understand their pets that well.

But I also like the more grim side to it, because when you don't understand something specifically another being in this case you're less likely to have sympathy for it. Humans and Aliens don't have any relatable traits so whatever these aliens do to the humans whether for self-pleasure or such. And lab-mice? that confirms lab-rat theory. Alien stage crew were all just succesful experiments and the bad batch are kept behind for further testing i theorize. but its still pretty vague so we'll see. hopefully things get more grim ((

......What are you hiding Vivinos. (she rlly said do your homework....okay mum...i will catch you...)

A story about the death of close loved ones and how that can affect characters who are alive in the long run. im gonna throw up.

(NOT AGAIN WITH THE DEAD WIFE PARALLEL MIZI IS NOT HIS WIFE-)

"Ivan is the perfect man" 😭 I love the details of round 6 clothing so much, even I got that superior or dominating aura from Ivan when I first saw him in round 6 (💀) there wasn't really much to his outfit but the way he carried himself in it kinda just gave off that idea that he's the one in control here. but gradually, we can see that facade fade as he got more into his feelings the more he sang and sunk down to a level where he was most natural. eugh.....

[eideticmemory]

BABY DADDY | MATTHEW GRAY GUBLER

A one night stand leads to much, much more than either of you bargained for.

Word Count: 8.3k

Warning/Includes: BabyDaddy!Matthew, duh!!! Smut Lite™️.

So, the thing about babies is that they don’t really give a fuck about context. They truly couldn’t care less about what you’re doing, what’s happening in your life, your goals, your dreams, your ambitions. It’s all irrelevant. They will show up anyway. And what the little clump of cells in your uterus has failed to realize is that you do not know their father. At all.

Seriously.

You know him biblically. Obviously. You’ve shared drinks and a bed. You’ve seen him naked. He’s seen you naked. You’ve spent, maybe, an hour and a half together total. And you spent the majority of that time making the conscious decision to leave together, undress and fuck. You’re pretty sure the last thing you said to him was, “Safe travels.” As in, I don’t want to see you again. As in, If all goes well, I should never have to see you again.

You used a condom. You’re not dumb, you used a condom. So when weeks passed by and your period was late, you didn’t think anything of it. It happens. Sometimes periods are just late.

But it never came.

You bought the pregnancy test just to be safe. In fact, you were so sure that you were playing it safe that you didn’t take it for another three days. Pushing it back and back, hoping your period would come.

It didn’t.

So you squatted over the toilet and got a good amount of pee on the thing and waited two minutes just for it to stare you directly in the eye and say: FUCK YOU, DUMB BITCH. YOU’RE PREGNANT.

Okay, it just said pregnant. But that’s what went through your head. Your knees buckled and you grabbed your stomach, almost like you could feel the thing just hanging out in there. You doubled over, thinking you were going to puke, but you didn’t. You eye the test again and then, out of pure nerves, you puke.

You buy two more tests. They call you a dumb bitch again, just a little louder. You want a bottle of wine but you don’t have one because you’re pregnant. You want a lighter and a goddamn cigarette but you don’t have one because you don’t even smoke and you’re pregnant.

You sit down for lunch with your friend and it’s the first time you say these words out loud.

She yells, “You’re what?”

Pregnant!

You give her this look that says please don’t make me say it again and she doesn’t. She heard you very well the first time.

“W-wh-what…” she trembles. Shaking, like she’s the one knocked up. “What? H-how…what? who’s the daddy?”

You sigh, cut your eyes up at her, and her jaw drops, stuttering, “O-oh…no…no…[y/n]…no.”

“It’s gotta be him. He’s the last guy I had sex with. I had gotten my period before then. Now, no period, three positive pregnancy tests.”

“Three?” she shouts. “Oh, so you’re pregnant pregnant?”

“Yeah, I took three just to be sure and they all told me to go kill myself. So.”

“Oh my god…” she shudders. “Oh my god? Oh my…” and she chugs her glass of wine in one big gulp. It looks good.

“What are you going to do?” she asks you.

You shrug, your mind made up, “I’m keeping it.”

“What?”

“Okay, you need to quiet down now before we get kicked out of here.”

“What do you mean keeping it? As in, giving birth? As in, raising a child?”

“Yeah, exactly that.”

“O…kay…and the baby daddy?”

You shrug, “What about him?”

“I-“ she slams her hands down. “[y/n].”

“What?”

“You’re not gonna tell him?”

“Why would I? I have a house and a job and insurance and a 401K, I can take care of my kid.”

“Well, yeah…but it’s…his kid, too? Why-why are you keeping it if you’re not gonna tell him?”

“Because I want a baby. I don’t know. I-I thought about…getting it sucked out of there, but I don’t wanna. I want a baby. I want a kid. And yeah, this…isn’t the conventional way of doing that, but I never much saw myself with a husband anyway.”

“So…what’s the plan? Matthew’s just walking down the street one day and a little carbon copy of him comes out of the shadows saying ooh, aah, look at me! I’m the love child you unintentionally abandoned 10 years ago! That’s fucked.”

“What if he doesn’t care? What if he wants to abandon the kid? What if we’re on the same page?”

“Then at least give him the option.”

“Ugh.”

“[y/n], just give him the option. What? You can gargle his cock in your mouth but you can’t have a conversation? You need to tell him.”

“Okay…” you roll your eyes.

“And whatever the outcome, he stills owes you money. He stills owes some type of financial support, whether you want it or not.”

“I don’t want it.”

“Whatever. Look, I work with him when he’s in town, okay? I see him, I have to interact with him, I can’t hold on to this and I can’t be the one to tell him. [y/n]…please…”

“Okay!”

“Okay?”

You huff, “Okay. Fine.”

“Okay. You have his number?”

“No.”

“Classy,” she quips as she scrolls through her phone and you roll your eyes, “Okay, I’m airdropping it to you now.”

His contact comes through to your phone and you only stare at it long enough to accept and then you plant the device face down on the table. You suck back an anxious gulp of water and fidget with your hands, “This is your fault, you know?”

“What? How?”

“You’re the one that introduced us. At that launch party or whatever. What was that even about?”

“It was the launch party for a new production company and fuck you, you whore. I didn’t force you to go and get yourself knocked up. That was all you, Matthew and those free shots.”

“Oh, please, you practically threw us together.”

“Yeah, well, sue me, I thought you guys would hit it off,” she shrugs. “Not quite this much, but…”

The two of you sit in silence, looking around the restaurant, picking at your food.

“So,” she pips.

Your eyes flicker up at her.

“How was it?” she smirks. “Worth a baby?”

You let a long sigh, shaking your head with a very violent roll of your eyes, “Honestly…yeah…”

So far, pregnancy doesn’t suck. You’re still early, still not showing. There’s been no nausea or bloating. The insomnia, however, is getting ridiculous. You’re normally the type of girl to crash in bed as soon as possible, knocked out the moment your head hits the pillow. It is now midnight and your eyes are wide open, unable to relax. You check everything possible off of your to-do list, even scheduling your first obstetrician appointment. The only thing you haven’t done is call Matthew, having had his number sitting in your phone for close to a week now. To make it worse, all you want is a cinnamon roll. But not just any cinnamon roll. One from the late night bakery down the street. This is especially dangerous because you know very well that they are still open and somewhere out there is a cinnamon roll with your name on it. It would be nuts to leave the warmth of your bed right now, walk a mile in the dead of night, just for a cinnamon roll.

But you’re going to.

You bundle up and head out into the summer night, looking completely insane. Hoodie, sweats, tattered sneakers built for walking down the New York City sidewalks. It’s not far and you walk fast, faster than normal tonight because the craving is just that strong. You make it in all of ten minutes and within five more, you have the box cracked open and are tearing a piece off with your bare hands.

You look up for merely a second and your eyes catch him immediately. Now, you’re tired. Your blood sugar’s just shot up but you’re pretty sure it’s him. Posing for a picture with a fan. Tall. Beautiful. Smiling. His eyes land on you and he excuses himself, throws up a wave. You jump, looking around, contemplating running. But, yeah. That wouldn’t be suspicious at all. By the time you stop fidgeting, he’s standing over you and you’re trapped.

“Hi!” he greets you. “Hi, [y/n], how are you?”

You wipe frosting from your mouth and chuckle, more caught off guard by his remembering your name than anything. You cough, “Hi. Matthew, hi. I’m good. I’m doing good. How are you?”

“Good! Just heading home.”

“Oh! Oh, you have a place in New York?”

“Yeah, near the park, just a few blocks over. You live around here?”

“Uh…” you did not know this so you’re forcing your brain to catch up. “Uh, yeah, yeah. About a block over, just… couldn’t sleep. Wanted a cinnamon roll.”

“Looks good,” he giggles. “You look good.”

“Oh, you’re full of shit,” you smile.

“No! No, I mean it. You look great. I love the cinnamon roll run outfit. Honestly.”

You blush, you don’t mean to, but you blush. “Well, thank you. You look good, too.” He does. You can tell he’s just leaving somewhere because he’s dressed up and you suddenly remember very vividly how you ended up pregnant.

“Aw, thank you. I appreciate that…” his eyes scan over you. “Where did you say you live? Can I walk you home? It’s late.”

You want to shout No! Thank you! and run. It wouldn’t be hard to do. Why not? Still, you say, “Yes. Yeah, I’d like that.”

And so the two of you stroll down the empty sidewalks together, he does most of the talking. You can hear it in his voice that he’s flirting. You’ve heard it before. It has been successful, with you, before. Yet, you’re too busy this time around trying not to puke. He walks you to your door and you notice your cinnamon roll has gone cold in your hand.

“This is me,” you tell him. “Thank you.”

“Of course,” he smiles. “We should get together again, if you’re up for it.”

You nod, “Mhm. Yeah. That sounds nice. Um, I’ll give you my number.” He instantly pulls his phone from his pocket and hands it over. He’s serious. You type your name and number in and hand it back, chewing on your bottom lip.

“Perfect,” his fingers linger on yours as he takes his phone back. “I’ll call you. Hey, could I use your bathroom? I pee fast so I won’t inconvenience you too long.”

No!

You snicker, “Yeah…” you start to unlock the door. “Of course. Sorry in advance, it’s a little messy.”

“Oh, a little mess doesn’t scare me,” he laughs.

You let him in and point out the bathroom and as soon as he disappears, closes the door behind him, you release the breath that’s been trapped in your chest and plop down on the couch. “Fuck,” you mutter to yourself. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

The toilet flushes and then there’s a loud bang from the bathroom and you snap back to reality. “Matthew?” you call. “You alright in there?”

“Yeah, sorry,” he calls in response. “Just kicked over your trash can. Sorry!”

“That’s okay!” you reply. You relax.

It is definitely not okay.

You hop up and sprint to the bathroom door. You don’t even knock, you just burst into the bathroom where Matthew is picking up the spilled trash. Your eyes instantly land on the pregnancy tests and you can’t do anything but stand in wait.

When he notices them, he laughs. Not a cackle, but a soft giggle, almost silly, “You pregnant or something?” he asks. It’s a joke. He’s making a joke.

He looks at your face. It’s not a joke.

He stops laughing. He stops smiling. You’ve never seen someone’s entire being go so pale.

“Oh, you’re…” he stutters. “You’re…” he breathes. “Is it mine?”

You can hardly look him in the eye but you do and you nod.

“How long have you known?”

You gulp, “Like…a week. I haven’t been to the doctor or anything.”

“Are you…” you can see his chest heaving. “Are you serious?”

You nod, “Yes.”

He looks around the bathroom, wobbling on his heels and you worry he’s going to pass out. Instead, he slams the toilet seat down and sits on it, falls on it. “What…what are you going to do?”

“I’m…” you clear your throat. “Keeping it.”

“Oh.” he says. “You don’t...you’re not…”

“No. I don’t want that.”

And this is where his words became jumbled. Mumbled. Barely incoherent. He, himself, cannot even figure out what he’s trying to say.

“Look,” you interrupt him. “You don’t have to be involved, okay? You don’t even need to be on the birth certificate. I can handle this. I will handle this. If you wanna drop me a couple hundreds bucks every month and call it a day, that’s fine. If you don’t? Also fine. But I need to know because we’re…not…confusing this kid, okay? So, you need to be all in or all out.”

“Are you...” he cuts his eyes up at you and then promptly rises to his feet. “I can’t do this right now.”

You’re so dumbfounded as he rushes past you that your brain doesn’t even fully process it until he’s almost out the door. “Where are you going?”

“I have to clear my head. I-I have to get out of here.”

“Uh, okay...” he closes the door in your face. “Bye…”

And in the wake of all this exciting, suddenly surrounded by silence and cut tension, you remember your cinnamon roll. You want it after all.

When your friend asks if you’ve told Matthew, you say, “Yes.”

“Oh, shit. You called him?”

“No.” And you have to explain. You have to explain every awkward, uncomfortable, terrible second.

“And I haven’t heard from him since,” you shrug.

“Really?”

You nod.

She sighs, “Wow…fuck him.”

“Fuck him.”

And you meant that. You’re content with that. You feel like you can move on. Prepare, nest, move forward. Then he calls you. Out of nowhere. His name pops up on your phone and silences the music that had been playing while you took a bath. You stare at the screen for a long time, wondering if it’s best to protect your peace. It is. But still, you answer.

“Hello?”

“Hey, [y/n]?” he clears his throat. “It’s Matthew.”

“Matthew,” you sigh. “Hi.”

“Hey, um, when is your first doctor’s appointment? Has that passed already?”

“Um…” you furrow your eyebrows, genuinely confused. “No. It’s on the twenty-sixth. At Aster on the upper west side. Eleven o’clock.”

Silence.

Then, he says, “Okay…okay, I’ll be there.”

You shrug, “Okay.”

“Okay.”

You arrive at 10:45. You do not expect him to show up, like truly expect him to show up. So when he comes walking into the waiting room, your heart genuinely stops. You cross and uncross your legs, shuffling in your seat.

“Hi,” you whisper, with very minimal eye contact.

“Hi.”

The nurse calls your name and Matthew follows you into the examination room, taking a seat beside you. The technician asks you a series of questions about your last period, your symptoms, your health history and Matthew hears none of it.

“And are you dad?” she asks him.

He feels like he’s going to throw up. “Uh, yeah. Yeah, I guess.”

You roll your eyes and luckily, this kind woman cuts the tension pretty quickly. She slathers this cold gel on your belly and presses the wand to your skin and the heartbeat picks up immediately.

“Oh, wow, strong heartbeat already!” she grins at you. But you can’t take your eyes off the monitor. Matthew either. “You’re right around ten weeks so there’s the little head and you can see their arms and legs starting to form here.”

You can. You can really see it. There’s a baby in there. Barely. But a baby! You look at Matthew and his look of pure terror mirrors yours. It’s kind of comforting.

The nurse wipes you off and says, “So your estimated due date is March 10th, but again, that’s just an estimate so take it with a grain of salt because babies tend to follow their own schedule. You’re looking at anywhere from two to three days before or after.”

“Holy shit,” Matthew swears. “That’s the day after my birthday.”

“Is it really?” you tilt your head and at this, the nurse is dumbfounded. At this, Matthew is completely silenced.

You ask for two separate copies of the ultrasound and the technician has gotten over the shock. She’s not going to question it anymore, not going to give it any thought. Let you two sort it out.

As you stand outside afterwards, twiddling your thumbs, unsure of what to say or what to do, he asks, “Are you hungry? Can I take you to lunch?”

You cross your arms, wanting to say no. Wanting to lie. Instead you sigh, “Yes,” you nod. “Yes, please. I’m fucking starving.”

So he takes you to a cafe down the street where you order possibly the biggest burger even seen and fries and a cup of veggies and a piece of cake. It’s awkward, silent, and he just watches you eat. Almost like he can’t wrapped his head around it. You come up for air and catch his gaze.

“Hey,” you swallow. “Don’t look at me crazy. You’ve never had something in your body competing for resources.”

He chuckles, “No judgement. Eat what you want.”

“That was my plan.”

He picks at his food for a few moments and then sighs, “So…how…how are we gonna do this?”

You would ask for more context but you don’t need it. You know exactly what he means. You shrug, “I don’t know…” you shrug again. “I don’t know, just…do the best we can, I guess?”

He nods, “Yeah. Yeah, that always seems to work for everyone else.”

September | 14 Weeks

The deal is that Matthew will come in every four weeks for your appointments. This is what he agrees to, but you’re not convinced it will happen. But your next appointment rolls around and you’re shocked to walk in and find he’s beat you there. This time, he sees you and he smiles. His eyes scan over your figure as you take a seat, he goes, “Oh, you’re…you’re kinda starting to…”

You glance down at your tiny baby bump and you have this weird urge all the time to touch it so you do. “Oh. Yeah. I finally had to start telling people at work. They made me a registry.”

“Oh, that’s nice. What…what do you need me to get? What does a baby need?”

“God, dude, too much shit, I swear. Plus, I don’t even know what I want to dress her in. There’s like a million different brands and they all look the same or are made from spider silk or something stupid. I don’t know.”

He tilts his head at you, “Her? You think it’s a girl?”

You shrug, “I don’t know. I don’t think we can find out just yet anyway but, maybe?”

This little grin appears on his face and he almost reaches in to your bump, but he doesn’t. He shuffles in his seat, clears his throat, “A girl would be nice.”

You smile, “I think so, too.”

You both get your updated ultrasounds to go and the technician is greatful to not feel so suffocated this time. The energy around the two of you has shifted. Not much. You’re still strangers and it shows. But it’s different. You smile, you joke around, Matthew speaks up, asks questions.

It’s different.

At the end of the appointment, he asks you, “Hey, are you busy tonight?”

“Oh…” you’re caught off guard. “No. Why?”

“I was wondering if you might want to come over? For dinner maybe?”

“Oh.”

“Nothing…weird. I just…want you to know where I live and…I don’t know, I thought we could just talk.”

“Um. Okay. Okay. Send me your address.”

“Okay. I will.”

And so because you reluctantly agreed, you show up at his doorstep at six o’clock sharp. You’re not dressed up or anything, but it’s starting to get cold and you just threw on this big puffy jacket.

He opens the door and greets you with a bright smile, saying, “Hey, you. Come in.”

“Thanks,” you meekly walk in and instantly look around his place and oh, it’s fucking gorgeous. Comforting. Because you can’t have a baby with someone who lacks interior design skills.

“Are you still craving chinese? I got us a fuck ton.”

“Oh, my god,” you sigh in relief, smelling the food, instantly plopping down at the kitchen table. “Oh, my god, yes, thank you.”

“Of course,” he smiles.

You look around and notice the ultrasounds on his fridge, staring at them as he sets up a plate for you.

He takes a seat beside you and takes a bite of his food, then asking, “So, where are you from?”

It catches you off guard so you laugh, “What?”

“Where are you from? What’s your family like? Where’d you go to school?”

“Um, okay…what…you interrogating me?”

He laughs, “No. No, sorry. I just…uh, I wanna get to know you better, that’s all. You can ask me anything you wanna know, too.”

“Hm,” you nod. “Okay.” And you spill your guts.

You wrap your life up in a nutshell and it becomes this rapid game of back and forth about whose parents did this and how many siblings do you have and who was your first crush. Who’s your best friend. Who’s the last person you dated. Tell me about all the people you’ve dated!

Your baby daddy is kind of a slut, but, honestly, who are you to judge?

He’s funny. As far as you can tell, he’s honest. He doesn’t have or want to hide anything from you. What’s the point?

“So, um,” he says. “Why don’t I make you a drink and give you a little tour? Oh, wait, you…”

“Can’t drink,” you nod. “Yeah. Thanks for reminding me.”

“Sorry,” he laughs. “I have sparkling cider.”

“Bleh.”

“Sparkling water?”

“Bleh.”

“I…orange juice?” he laughs but you’re dead serious.

“That sounds so fucking good right now.”

“Yeah?” he chuckles. “Okay, you got it.”

And so, with your cup of orange juice, you follow him around his home. You see his bedroom, his office, and in the corner of the house, an empty room where he proclaims, “This will be the little guy’s room. I’m not sure what I’m gonna do with it yet, but definitely something.”

It’s beautiful. Lots of natural light but he says he’s already started looking at blackout curtains. “And then in my room,” he adds as you walk by. “I’ll have one of those little beside bassinet things, y’know? Just until he gets a little bigger.”

You look up at him with this sober look. You stumble around until you find somewhere to put your glass down and he asks, “You alright?”

You turn back to him and almost immediately jump into his arms, mouth open, a whole growing human between the of you, but still you are close. But still, you are kissing.

“Woah…” he huffs. “W-what…what are you…”

“Sorry,” you breathe out. “It’s nothing personal. I’ve just got a lot of blood rushing to a lot of different places and w-what?” you stutter because he’s caressing your face. “Y’know, it’s not like you can get me pregnant. It’s more like a…a favor?”

His eyes scan over your face and he nods, scoops you up in his arms like it’s nothing. “Yeah, okay, that makes sense,” and he carries you into his bedroom.

October | 18 Weeks

The greeting this week is different. In the past few weeks, there’s been a lot more casual texting. A lot of Matthew asking: Hey, how are you feeling today? Do you need anything? Do you have groceries? You appreciate it.

He walks into the waiting room a few minutes after you and you actually stand to say hi.

“Hi, you!” he pips and he gives you a big hug. This time, he is not so shy and he takes a hold of your bump in both his hands, leaning down to say, “Hi, you! What are you doing in there? Woah!”

“Ah,” you groan. “Yeah, kicking the shit out of me. lately. Don’t get her riled up.”

But he pokes at your belly again and those legs come back swinging. He laughs, “Oh, my god, that’s so cool!”

“Yeah, not so much when it’s the middle of the night and it’s directly on your bladder.”

“Oof. Sorry, I should be stern,” he leans down. “Knock it off, kid.” And the kid kicks back.

“Oh! Jesus. Okay, that was…bad. Keep practicing.”

He cackles, “I will.”

In the exam room, the technician asks, “Do you wanna know the gender?” The smile on her face tells you that she already knows.

And as you shout an enthusiastic, “Yes!” Matthew is shaking his head, saying, “No.”

And then there’s silence.

“What…” you chuckle. “What do you mean no?”

“I don’t know,” he shrugs. “I kinda just wanna be surprised.”

“Hm…” you furrow your eyebrows. You turn to the technician, “Well, I wanna know, will you put it in an envelope for me?”

This envelope is hand delivered to you at the end of your appointment and you hold it tight in your hands all the way out the door. You tear into it as soon as you step outside and Matthew shouts, “Wait!”

“What?”

“I don’t wanna know! Open it when you’re alone.”

“Okay…” you shrug, putting the envelope in your purse.

The two of you stand there, silent, avoiding eye contact.

“Fine, open it,” he says.

“What?” you laugh. “I thought you didn’t wanna know?”

“I don’t! I don’t. But-but you should know. Open it.”

You roll your eyes at him and take the envelope out of your bag, breaking the seal, flipping it open and showing absolutely no emotion. You rise and fall from the tip of your toes, biting down on your lip.

“Oh, c’mon!” he groans. “What is it? What is it? What is it? Just tell me.”

“You sure?”

“Yes.”

“You positive?”

“[y/n]…” he whines.

You chuckle and turn the paper around to face him and his entire expression goes blank.

“A boy?” he whispers. Followed by, “Oh, my god, a boy!” Then, “A boy?” Finally, “A boy…”

You giggle and nod, “A boy.”

Halloween falls on a work day, after which you immediately come home to take a nap. You awake to find missed calls and texts from Matthew, the last of which reads: I’m coming over. You see this just before he rings your doorbell.

You answer and flinch, caught off guard by his costume. His makeup, the whole thing. “Oh…” you say. “You did say you were weird about Halloween.”

“Um, I don’t know if weird is the word I used but…here! For you,” he hands you a bag full of candy and you laugh, taking it from him.

“Thank you.”

“And…also, for you,” and he hands you a pumpkin.

“Oh! Thanks?”

“It’s the exact same weight as the baby. Weighed it myself.”

And your heart just kind of melts. “Aw…that’s so cute…” you hold the thing in your hands and look down at it. “Wow, what? No fucking way that’s in there.” you say in disbelief, holding the pumpkin level with your belly.

The two of you burst into laughter and Matthew sighs, happily exclaming, “Yeah, that’s him.”

November | 22 Weeks

Before your next appointment, Matthew calls you to ask if you’ll spend Thanksgiving with him in Vegas.

“Y’know, I told my family and-and they were…y’know shocked. But, they wanna meet you. I’m sure you already have plans but if you don’t…I’d really love it if you came with me.”

You sit in silence for a second. “I…I don’t have plans. I’ll go.”

“Really?”

“Oh, did you…want me to say no?”

“No,” he laughs. “No. I just thought you would. Um, well, okay, cool! Cool. I’ll book the flight.”

“Okay. Cool.”

Matthew meets you at your place the day before Thanksgiving, greeting you with a hug and a kiss on your belly. “Hey, you ready?”

“Yeah…” you grumble. “I’m all packed, just tired.”

“Want me to carry you?”

“Ha…ha…no, thanks.”

“I’m so dead serious. I’ve been lifting weights, gotta train to carry a baby around.”

“I’m telling you, this fucker is heavy.”

He laughs, “Yeah, he looks it already. Is there anything I can do for you?”

“Um…” you sigh. “Can you just carry my bags?”

“[y/n].” He looks you in the eye. “I was going to do that anyway.”

You get sick on the plane and the flight attendant gives you ice to chew and a cold rag for your forehead. Matthew is constantly rubbing your leg and fanning you with the safety booklet.

“Ugh, I’m so sorry. What can I do?” he asks.

“Will you be the pregnant one for a little bit?”

“Yes, if that’s what you need.”

His face is serious and you can’t help but laugh, “Fuck you.”

As you drive through the desert, you have to keep your eyes closed to feel peace. You only open them when the car slows down and you arrive at the house.

“Oh, by the way,” Matthew says as he shuts the car off. “My family thinks we’re together. Like dating.”

Your eyes goes wide and you shoot up in your seat, “What? What?” you yell.

“Look, look, I’m sorry! I didn’t know what else to say!”

“Uh, how about I got a little too drunk and horny on a Friday night and put a baby in someone? You don’t lie! What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“I…ugh! I’m sorry. I know, I know. I will tell them the truth, but not right now. [y/n], please.”

“No.”

“[y/n]…”

“No. Fuck you! How could you wait until we get here to tell me that bullshit? You’re insane!”

“Okay. Okay, you’re right. I’m sorry, let’s just, please go inside and I will fix it.”

“No.”

“What?”

“I don’t wanna go inside now. You pissed me off.”

“Oh, my…” he huffs. “[y/n], please.”

“No!” you cross your arms. “I’m staying in the car.”

Just then, his mom comes rushing out the house, waving to you both from the front door and you have to put on a smile very quickly.

“I will tell them,” he whispers.

“Oh, you fucking better,” you sneer, still smiling. “Or I will.”

You play along as you’re introduced to everyone. You tell them about yourself. You show them the most recent ultrasound, you pig out on all the food just laying around and somehow, along the way, you forget why you were mad.

Until you retire to bed and they have you and Matthew set up in one room. Then, you are pissed all, over, again.

You rush into the shower to avoid him and when you come back out, he’s laying in the bed.

“Hi,” he smiles nervously.

“Fuck you.”

“Okay.”

“Did you tell them?”

“No. I’m sorry. I will.”

“When?”

“Tomorrow.”

“Matthew.”

“[y/n]-“

“Matthew!”

“Okay. Okay. I’ll tell them now.”

“Yeah.”

Still, he lays there. “I…I pulled out your maternity pillow. All ready for you.”

“Get out the damn bed,” you grumble and he’s up before you lay down. And worse, he just stands there.

You roll over from your side, looking at him. He’s looking at you and his face pisses you off so you shout, “Matthew!”

“Okay!” and he leaves the room.

He comes back in after you’ve fallen asleep but still, half awake, you ask, “Did you tell them?” and you don’t even question it when he lays beside you, cradles you in his arms.

“Yeah, I did.”

“Good.”

And you fall asleep just like that.

Thanksgiving goes well, despite the recent news. You practically clear the table yourself because you’re eating for two and one of you is much greedier than the other. You meet Matthew’s dad, who spends the entire evening lulling you into security just to later pull the two of you into a separate room.

Here, the conversation gets legal. And while you were not expecting it, you’re grateful. You hadn’t thought of any of this. Custody, exchange schedules, schools, primary addresses, out-of-state trips. All of it.

His dad finally asks, “And what last name will the baby be taking?”

You say, “[y/l/n],” as Matthew says, “Oh, Gubler, for sure.” And the two of you just slowly turn to look at each other.

“Oh…” he dad says. “You two should probably discuss.”

That discussion lasts well into the night. Through the drive to the airport. Through the flight.

By the time you land, you’ve compromised. You’ll hyphenate.

December | 26 Weeks

Your next appointment is just over a week before Christmas. Matthew agrees then to spend Christmas Eve with you. Your family comes into New York just to keep you from flying yourself. When they arrive, your home is cluttered with boxes and pieces of the crib and a dismantled bassinet and bottles and boxes of diapers and wipes. Your baby shower was a huge success. You and baby boy want for nothing. But you’re big, you’re stressed, you’re aching and you can’t stop crying.

“Baby, let us put the nursery together for you,” you mom suggests.

“No. No, we’ll do it. It’s fine. I want to do it.”

“Okay. Speaking of, is your baby daddy gonna be here any time soon?”

“Yeah, he’s on the way.”

And as if on queue, Matthew walks in and everyone exclaims, “Hey! Baby daddy!”

Your sibling walks up to him immediately and says, “Love Criminal Minds, dude,” and you put your face in your hands.

Matthew gets everything stuffed into the nursery just for now so there’s more space for everyone to move around. He helps your mom with dinner and he doesn’t mind when they poke and prode into his life.

“So, baby daddy, what part of New York are you in?”

“So, baby daddy, is this your first kid?”

“So, baby daddy, do you think you might propose to [y/n] someday?”

“Baby daddy, what’s your net worth?”

And this is not an exaggeration. By the end of the night, he responds to baby daddy like it’s his actual government name and he confesses to you that it makes him uncomfortable.

Standing on your balcony, he wraps a blanket around you and rubs your shoulders, “Y’know, I understand the terminology, definitely. But…damn.”

You cackle, “Well..you are my baby daddy. We’re having a baby together, but were not together, but we have sex sometimes. It fits. Hey, I’m your baby mama!”

“Aw, well…” he sighs. “Thats sweet.” And he grins at you as you burst into laughter.

Your family leaves to stay at a hotel and Matthew stays to make sure you’re okay. You’re pretty fucking exhausted to be honest. So he tucks you into bed and runs his hand over your hair, “You need anything?”

“No. Just sleep.”

“Okay,” he touches your belly. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”

When you wake up in the morning, your first thought is that you need to eat. You remember some sugar cookies that your mom had brought by last night and you decide to have them for breakfast. You walk to the kitchen and passing by the nursery, you almost don’t notice. Then, you stop in your tracks, tilt your head and walk backwards.

It’s done.

It’s done!

The crib is built, the dresser and changing table are assembled, the mobile’s up and running, the rocking chair is in the corner. Even the wall art you picked out is hanging up.

“Wh-what…” you stutter and then you march to the living room where Matthew is passed out on the couch. “Matthew!” you shout. Still, he doesn’t wake. So you rush over and shake him, going, “Matthew! Matthew!” and he jolts awake.

“What?” he takes hold of your hands. “What? Are you okay? Are you alright?”

“Yes. What…what the hell did you do?”

“What do you mean?” he rasps. “Oh…the nursery? Do you like it?”

“Do I…” you cut yourself off and run back to the nursery, where you wander around the room unable to focus your attention on just one thing.

Matthew follows behind you and watches you from the doorway, his arms crossed over his chest. “Well?”

“It’s…” you gleam. “Exactly like my pinterest board.”

“Of course it’s exactly like your pinterest board, I’m not insane!” he laughs.

You feel this peace wash over you and you hug your baby bump as you breathe out a slow exhale. You turn to him with a smile and he thinks you’re running to give him a hug. So when you all but tackle him, take him a kiss, push him to the floor, tear off his clothes, it all happens so fast.

When it’s over, you have no bottoms on and your head is laying on his chest. “I’m sorry,” you whisper. “I should probably stop attacking you like that.”

He chuckles, “No. Don’t. I don’t mind.”

January | 30 Weeks

Your appointments are every two weeks now. This is the time you expected Matthew to miss at least one, but he never does. He’s always there. Even when he’s not with you, he’s always there.

When your insomnia is at its very worst, he facetimes you in the middle of the night.

“Hey,” he smiles at the screen. “I knew you’d be up.”

“No, you didn’t.”

“Insomnia still kicking your ass?”

“Every night this past week.”

“Ugh, I’m sorry, honey,” he frowns. “But since you’re up, I thought we could talk baby names?”

“Oh,” you say. You had forgotten about that. “Oh…right…names.”

“I know, we kinda dropped the ball on that one,” he laughs. “Now, it’s kinda a Gubler tradition that all the boys have the middle name Gray. Y’know, alliteration and all.”

“Oh..that’s…” Boring, you think. “Unoriginal. Can we compromise?”

“Well, I’m already compromising with the hypenating so I don’t know.”

“Oh, good g-“ you roll your eyes. “Sir, you hyphenated like 7 months ago, let it go.” And he lets it go. You add, “I like the name Lincoln. Link.”

“Ooh, no. He used to bully me in school. What about Silas?”

“Yeah, cause he’s a vampire? Veto. I like Noah.”

“Cause he’s building an arc? Veto!”

“Ugh.”

“What about Simon? Y’know I voiced him in the movie.”

You roll your eyes, again. “Yes. We know. Veto.”

Silence falls over the call as you both rack your brains for another suggestion. And like a domino, it naturally falls into your mind, “Theodore?” you shrug.

Matthew smiles, “Teddy?”

“Aw!” you squeal. “Teddy Gray…” you say aloud and then a tear falls from your eye and then you’re full blown sobbing in front of the camera. “Teddy Gray, that’s it. That’s his name.”

And Matthew is freaked out because he’s never seen you cry before. Ever. Not at the doctor, not in the nursery, he’s never had the pleasure of meeting your hormones face to face quite like this. “Yeah…” he chokes out a sob. “That’s it,” he wipes his eyes. “Fuck, why am I crying?”

“Oh, why would you be, you fucking freak?” you shout and he thinks it’s the funniest thing you’ve ever said.

Suddenly, your doorbell rings and it silences you, scares you. “What the fuck?” you whisper. “Is that you?”

“Nope. I had something delivered.”

“What? Right now?”

“Just a little cinnamon roll and a milkshake, but I can tell them to leave if you don’t want it?”

“Oh, my god,” you rush out of bed and immediately waddle to the door, “You’re amazing. I wanna have your baby.”

February | 34 Weeks

Your customized pillows and blankets have come in the mail. They all say Teddy and his baby book says it too. It is perfect. It’s your son. At your last appointment, he weighed about 7 pounds and you certainly feel every ounce weighing you down.

But for Teddy, it’s worth it.

For now, you’re still going to work and taking an afternoon nap for survival. Matthew jokes all the time that you can quit your job whenever you’d like. That he can take care of you both, just say the word. That was never the deal, but you appreciate it.

When you arrive home on Valentine’s Day, you’re just getting settled when your doorbell rings. You look through the peep hole and the delivery man is holding the largest vase of roses you’ve ever seen.

“Hi,” he greets you. “[y/n] [y/l/n]?”

“Yes,” you nod and take the roses in your arms. “Thank you.”

He hands you a tiny bag and you carry everything inside, setting them down on the table.

“One more thing,” he tells you and when you turn around, it is a teeny, tiny vase of snipped roses. The vase is personalized with the name Teddy.

“Aw,” you want to cry but you can’t do it in front of this random man. So only when he leaves, you let the tears fall and you set Teddy’s vase near in the window in his room. You leave your flowers on the living room table and take a small jewelry box out of the bag. Inside, are the most gorgeous pair of ruby pendant earrings and you audibly gasp.

The card accompanying it all reads: Sorry I can’t be with you and Teddy today, but I’m thinking about you both. I’m always thinking about you.

Happy Valentine’s Day, baby mama!!

M

March | 37 Weeks

“Any day now, [y/n],” your doctor beams, rolling the wand around on your belly. “How are you feeling?”

“Good,” you nod. “Excited. Scared. I didn’t give it much thought about how I was gonna get him out of there.”

Her and Matthew laugh, Matthew holding your hand like it’s No Big Deal.

“You’re gonna do great. You’re right on track for your due date, but it’s possible you’ll start feeling some contractions in the next week or two. If you notice them coming really close together or your water breaks, I want you to put that birthing plan in motion, okay?”

“Okay,” you and Matthew say in unison. It would’ve annoyed you before. Now you just smile at him because you think it’s cute.

Matthew escorts you back home and he’s hoping you’ll settle in and maybe rest. You don’t. You end up in the nursery, walking around like maniac. There is absolutely nothing to do. Nothing to move. Nothing to fix. Still, your brain tells you there must be something.

“Honey, honey,” he calls, taking you by the hand and guiding you to the couch. “Come lay down, please. Everything is all set.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure,” he laughs. “You’re just nesting, I read about it online.”

“Oh, you and your baby google.”

“There really is so much out there!”

You roll your eyes, smiling as he covers you with a blanket. “You still going to Vegas this weekend? For your birthday?”

“Oh, no. No, I think I’m just gonna stay in New York.”

“What? Why? I thought your mom was planning a whole thing for you? You can’t miss it.”

“Well, I don’t wanna miss Teddy coming either. I don’t wanna leave you alone like that. The doctor said any day now.”

“Yeah, but, she also said it could be well over another week before I start contracting.”

He sighs, visibly anxious.

“Hey, look,” you pull him into your arms. “I appreciate you wanting to be here, I really do, but I want you to enjoy your birthday and I highly, highly doubt this kid is planning on escaping any time soon. Plus, my friend will be here if anything happens so, just, go, baby daddy, we’ll be fine.”

He sighs, “Fine. But you’ll call me if anything happens?”

“I will call you.”

“Immediately?”

“Immediately!”

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

“Fine.”

“Fine.”

March 9 | 37 Weeks and 6 Days

The eve of Matthew’s birthday, you get roughly four hours of sleep. You rise with the sun and sit in Teddy’s room, folding his clothes, piling them in his dresser.

You friend wanders in, having just woken up herself and she sighs, “What the hell are you doing, crazy lady?”

“Nothing.”

“This nursery looks like it’s straight out of Architectural Digest. There’s nothing else to do, why don’t you go lay down?”

“Why is everyone always wanting me to lay down?”

“Because you’re carrying a human maybe? Duh?”

“I’m fine. I feel fine. I need to check on the bottles and make sure I have the right sized nipples because I’m not sure…”

“[y/n], you have all the nipples in the world. The ones, the twos, the threes, the ones on your tits. It’s fine!”

“I’m just checking!” And as you step towards the kitchen, you suddenly stop in your tracks, grab onto your crotch in shock.

“[y/n]?” you friend rushes to your side. “What’s wrong?”

“I-I…I, um, I think I just pissed myself?”

“Wh-what? Pissed yourself or did your water break?”

You look up at her in fear, “Oh my god.”

“I’ll get the hospital bag.”

“Oh my god.”

“Get some pants and shoes on, dude!”

“Oh my god,” you repeat. “I-I have to call Matthew.”

So you do. You do. Just in the knick of fucking time, your name pops up on his phone and he quickly grabs his luggage and sprints off the plane that was doomed to take off any second.

When he arrives at the hospital, he bursts into the room at full speed, thinking he’s already missed everything. Thinking it’s over. He finds you bouncing on a birthing ball and you grin at him.

“Hi, baby daddy!” you huff. “Happy birthday!”

“Hi! Hi…” he walks up to you, takes your hands in his although you do not stop bouncing. He kisses the top of your head, “Are you okay? How far along are you?”

“Three centimeters,” you pant. “And I am not getting off of this ball until it’s 10!”

“Okay, well, you have to take a break at some point. Do you need some water?”

“Nope! Just need to bounce.”

You last, maybe, five more minutes and then you need to lay down. Except you can’t. Because your contractions are ridiculous and you can never get comfortable and you end up on all fours in the bed, crying and groaning.

And three hours later, you are only 5 centimeters dilated.

Matthew lays in the bed beside you, patting your face with a rag, feeling absolutely useless. “What can I do, [y/n]? Tell me what to do.”

You cry and squeeze his hand until this contraction passes. You pant, “Y-y’know…I’ve heard sometimes…when a baby won’t come out…p-people….sometimes…”

“What? What do they do?”

“They…y’know…”

He is still confused.

“Like!” you shout in frustration. “Like, what gets the baby in also gets the baby out!”

It clicks, “Oh!” he exclaims. “Oh. Will that…will that hurt him?”

“I don’t think so,” you shake your head. “But he’ll sure as shit get the message.”

And so, two fingers, ten minutes and six big pushes later, Theodore Gray [y/l/n]-Gubler is born. He weighs eight pounds, five ounces but he feels so heavy in your arms.

Finally in your arms.

Matthew, like a big baby himself, can’t stop crying. Can’t stop looking at him. Can’t stop kissing your face, “Look at him! He’s beautiful! You did it! Oh, my god, [y/n]! Look what you did!”

Teddy is truly the best birthday gift Matthew has ever gotten.

Two days later, you’re discharged from the hospital. Matthew arranged for a car to drive you home and he installs the car seat himself. He pushes you out in a wheelchair, despite your frequent protests, and gets Teddy buckled in. He then helps you and into the car before sliding in on the opposite side of the car seat.

You cover Teddy with his blanket and touch your fingertips to his face. He’s fast asleep, but this little grin forms on his face and the two of you chuckle.

“Hey,” you coo to him. “Hey, mister man, what are you doing? Huh? You…really don’t look a thing like me.”

Matthew cackles, “Yeah. Yeah, that seems to be the general consensus.”

He follows behind you with the car seat as you unlock your front door and lead them inside.

“Should we…I mean, do we just let him sleep?” he asks you.

“Until he’s hungry, yeah,” you nod, taking Teddy from his carrier. “Oh, hi…” you whisper to him. “Hi, mister man, you wanna lay in your bed? Hm?”

You place him in his crib and he doesn’t make a sound. Doesn’t make a move. Matthew plops down on the floor, legs crisscrossed and you sit right beside him.

“He’s so fucking cool,” he tells you.

You giggle, “The coolest.”

The two of you could stare at him all day. You will.

“Is it still okay if spend the night?” he asks.

You look up at him with a smile, “Yes, we’d like that very much,” and you put your head on his shoulder.

His kisses your forehead softly, saying, “Cool.”

[threepandas]

Bad End: Mama Mine

I woke, that first time, to the most beautiful child I had ever seen. Even through a fever that felt like it was cooking me from within, I could see she was different. It was honestly impossible not too. She looked cherubic. Angelic. Impossible, somehow. As though favored by the gods.

Even in worn, threadbare, patched then re-patched old clothes, so far from new as to have forgotten the name of it, she looked... like a dancer. Beautiful. A tiny painting brought to life. I couldn't understand, delirious as I was. I thought I was hallucinating. Worried her terribly.

She was just a small thing. Trying her best. Too care for her sick mother. She could barely reach the stove. Struggled to carry the buckets of water she needed, to cook and wipe my fevered sweat away. But she let nothing stop her. So determined to save me. Her little face so filled with love and worry, forever a step away from tears.

She was so afraid.

How could I do anything but love her back?

Disoriented or not. Lost and confused I may be. I had a child. Any plan I made? Would be for two. I had never really seen myself a mother, but cast into the role? I refused to abandon the child who loved and needed me. Who was innocent in all this.

Instead, as my fever broke, I held her close. Told her she had been so, so brave. Let her cry. Cuddled my little girl and gave myself a moment to just... breathe.

Then in the morning I got to work.

I appeared to be a single mother. A PEASANT single mother. Delightful. We had little to nothing to our name. I could try and fix that, I think. I knew a few crafts. But I had "forgotten" everything practical. Great. Luckily? I had a VERY observant little helper. Who remembered most of how everything was done.

I could context clues from there.

We made due.

Cleaned up the house, washed the linens, aired everything out. In bits and pieces, using half remembered wiki binges and crafting videos, I improved our little homestead somewhat. It wasn't by MUCH. I didn't have the skills. But it looked... nicer, I think. Homey.

We foraged. Sold hunted animals and things we had found. The occasional baked good. More then that? I tried to make time for my daughter. Keep her away from powerful eyes. The sort that might covet a pretty young thing. Taught her what I could.

Not just how to braid her beautiful hair, but that her beauty did not define her. That love was wonderful but not all there was to life. Too be wary of empty promises and watch for how the powerful treat those that they deem weaker then them. To lead with a smile but be prepared to throw her fist.

Also don't eat those mushrooms, honey, those are the poisonous ones.

I wish... Honestly? I wish I could have given my daughter a better childhood. Better education then the lessons scratched in dirt I was able. If I'd been able to REMEMBER. To recognize. Maybe I would have scrimped and saved more for third or forth hand textbooks, instead of the new hunting knife she so badly wanted.

But I didn't remember.

And as we were visiting town? PROPER town as opposed to our little settlement? I heard about wealthy, comparatively, family's having their children tested for... magic?

I faltered but adapted. Was it that much stranger then being transported into a new body and world? Magic it was then, I guess. Huh. We continued shopping. I bought my daughter a new sturdy pair of boots. Room to grow, would serve her well. She adored them. They had FLOWERS on them, mama! I couldn't help but laugh. Ah, my daughter is so cute!

Then I saw it.

As we passed the temple square. The only building in this whole town that could count as ostentatious. Some silk clad toddler broke from the pressing crowds, no doubt displeased with being crushed in on all sides. He wriggled free. Back from the steps and out into the road. Blind to the mortal peril he had just put himself in as the carriage of some wealthy To-Do raced carelessly down the street. Looking around, innocent, as only a toddler can as he wandered farther and farther from safety.

I dropped my shopping.

The world fuzzy and muffled, far away in my panic. Some Mother's instinct SCREAMING as I raced forward. Throwing a few people aside to reach the road. Then bolting. Distantly I heard my daughter scream, another scream as they finally notice, too late, their child was in mortal peril. But all I could see... was the little boy. Turning. Noticing. The big scary horses.

About to crush him to death.

Time felt slow.

I got there.

Then PAIN.

Far away, people were screaming. A child was crying. Small and terrified in my arms. Some arrogant voice was first demanding, then stuttering, then begging. A frantic voice, joined by others. Rich perfume. The... the child reaching for someone. Safe? Safe. I let go. Tried to smile. Ah... my daughters voice. Crying. Shhhh, shhhh. I'm sorry. It's okay. I'm sorry.

Ah... there... there was so much blood.....

Then there was LIGHT.

Like someone had cupped the sky itself and poured it directly onto me. Blue. So light and weightless and blue. The pain vanished as though erased. New agony and old aches alike. My eyes blinked open in suprise. And there? Tear stained and glowing? Was my daughter.

Like the sky itself had wrapped around her. Sunlight and blue sky and drifting clouds. Swirling like she was the world itself. Her eyes filled with tears when they connected with mine. With a choked cry, she through herself into my arms. Oh, baby. My poor baby. I wrapped my arms around her tight. Hugged her back for all I was worth.

"Your daughter?" A gentle voice asked.

I looked up. What HAD to be a noble woman sat, skirts ruined, in the dirt and blood at my head. Clutching desperately at the toddler I had saved. I could only nod. Understanding passed between us. Mother to mother.

Which is why, when a priest with covetous eyes came forward?

The noble women's smile turned cold.

She had changed her mind. She was, in fact, going to have her son tested by the temple closer to home. AND? She was going to be taking us with her. I agreed. Immediately and before anyone could try to seperate us. Daughter mine, darling, honey, Get In The Carriage. NOW.

We got out of there while the getting was still possible.

It was safe to assume, my new noble friend eventually said, that my daughter had magic. But what did that mean for us? Well, according to Nation Law? (Oh goodie. Laws I know nothing about.) She would have to attend the Royal Magica Academy.

What.

I knew that name. I KNEW that name! My jaw was surely on the floor, my daughter squeeking out flustered and rambling questions at my side. But... but all I could do? Was slowly turn to look at her. She was healthier then the game cover. Not as "that's not what real women look like!" Thin that... that in hindsight? Was probably prolonged food scarcity. Starvation.

She was taller too. Less... oh god, less "child like". That had to have been malnutrition. Stunted growth.

The way her hair shown, soft and healthy. The brightness to her skin and nails. Clarity to her eyes. Fullness to her cheeks. She was hardly even within sight of being a plump child, more muscle then anything, from a life of work and survival, but? She wasn't... waifish. I had made sure of that.

Even if it meant sacrificing my own meals to do so.

But I could SEE it. Could SEE the familiar features. The curling hair and doe like grey eyes. The generic princess character that I had been playing right before... before... God, I couldn't even remember the game's NAME. Just the plot. It had been mid at best. Magnificent art. Everyone raving there was some secret twist after the first play through.

So I grit my teeth a pushed through the generic. Tried to figure out what it was.

Never did get the chance. I died before the second play through and the twist everyone insisted made the game awesome. Now I wish I had caved and looked up spoilers. I tried to remember the mother. Did she die? What happens to my baby girl? Should I push her towards one man or another? Let her follow her heart?

It's a long, long night.

We stay in a guest room. Fancier then anything I've ever seen in this life. I keep my daughter calm. Help her avoid embarrassing herself. Tips for when in doubt. See, honey? It's a learning opportunity! No need to panic! Mama's certainly not, on the inside! She's very calm. Completely, utterly, definitely very ultra calm. Ha ha...

I think my soul had a panic attack.

Things moved very quickly after that. In the end, they had too, if I was to keep my daughter safe. The temple would want to train her. Her magic was apparently quite rare. Religiously significant. And being so lovely? She would make an EXCELLENT propaganda peice. A figurehead and puppet, forevermore in gilded chains.

Everything I feared for her.

No. That was NOT going to happen.

The Academy it was. Nobles and their games aside. The education would be unparalleled. She could probably even make friends. Possibly find love. I told her to Be CAREFUL. That is was a treacherous but beautiful place. Filled with powerful people used to getting their way. Do whatever she must to survive. Thrive. Be happy.

And remember, she is loved.

I...Returning home alone felt like ripping my heart out. I had thought I would have years, yet, before my daughter married and moved out. That I would have time to adjust. Get used to the idea, as my future son-in-law came around. Instead? I returned from a trip to emptiness. A life interrupted.

My daughters sewing, still resting, waiting for her, on the kitchen table.

I collapsed. Weeping. In the entryway.

My tiny home had never felt so vast and hollow.

Days passed. Then weeks. Finally, a letter arrived. Delivered by a very uncomfortable servant. The man checking more then once if I was TRUELY who he was supposed to deliver too. Clearly more then a little uncomfortable in the presence of such poverty. I did not care. I had a letter, thick with writing, from my daughter.

She was doing well.

MORE then well. My lessons had actually put her ahead of the curve in several classes, much to the shock and outrage of her peers. They had expected poverty to equal mental deficiency, it seems. And the library was quickly making up for any classes she was behind in. That's my girl!

She had made several friends that way. Quiet young ladies, willing to help her make sense of the complexities of history or magical theory. From nice, stable, neutral houses, too. No tea parties yet. Or boys. But I didn't care.

My baby had FRIENDS!

I sent a care package of her things back. Not indiscriminately, of course. But tools and notes, a few unfinished projects she had been working on to pass the time. Some snacks from home. They would likely still embarrass her somewhat, but... I did not want her to think I did not CARE. That I had tossed her towards that Academy and promptly forgotten her.

The servant, Geoffrey, and I got to see quite a lot of each other.

He got over the state of my house rather quickly. Instead, started bringing things he "just happened to have lying around" that would you look at THAT? I happened to need! Between letters on my daughter's meeting, then dramas, with pretty wealthy boys? Geoffrey helped me repair my roof. I mended his uniform. We shared new year's festivities together.

I even went to the actual festival, like I was some sort of lovely young thing.

As my daughter grew closer to graduation, the questions started. If I could go anywhere, where would it be? If I could do anything? What if I never had to work again? I wasn't a fool. Told her in no uncertain terms. If I EVER suspected she married for anything less then love and herself, I would disown her.

I did not sacrifice so that my daughter would SUFFER.

However... it seemed there was more then a few things my daughter had left from her letters. The next letter arrived in the hand of a man that wore Geoffrey's face, but even as I walked back towards my cabin from the forest... I knew.

That was not the man I had grown to love.

When the imposter turned, no doubt to lie, I RAN. Dropping my harvest of foraged wild greens. I had been planning to make a dish for him. One he was fond off. Perhaps my daughter's magic came from me, my line instead of her unknown father, or perhaps I had just enough to give it wings. To carry her to term.

Because...

I knew he was dead.

They pursued me. Of course they did. But this was a forest I had wandered for years. I lost them in the trees. Attacked them with rocks and stones. Destroyed my trails with rocks and rivers. Every hunter I crossed paths with an ally. Every hunting trap a peril I could lead them into. They were good.

I was better.

But more came.

Then more. And more. And MORE.

And I was not so good as to fend of a legion. I would not risk the village for some nobles scheme. I was dragged, bloody, bruised before some arrogant little sadist. A nasty little creature, like a porcelain doll filled with bile. What an utter waste of good fabric. I told her as much. Interrupt her sneering little monolog.

The backhand across the face barely hurt.

Toddlers had more muscle.

Unfortunate for this brat. My daughter had arrived in time to see that. And worse for this brat, she brought her friends and suitors. A veritable crowd of power and influence. The brat did not have the common sense to shut up while she was ahead. Even I, a peasant, could recognize royalty on sight. There were at least two of them before us.

MY daughter was not as merciful as the Cannon Protagonist had been.

It was a blood bath.

I tried to stay awake. Head wounds and all that. I... I had wanted to introduce Geoffrey to my daughter. Hinted at it, over my letters. I would... would never get the chance now... oh god. Geoff. Geoff, forgive me. Tears welled up. I could not stop them. Just as I could not stand. Just as I could not move...

I was... was rather useless... wasn't I?

Familiar yet no longer familiar arms threw themselves around me. Cradled me close to a softly perfumed chest, locks of hair I'd know anywhere, shielding me from the world.

"Mama..." my little girl said. Her voice the very picture of heartbreak. "I'm sorry. I... I was too late."

One of her suitors untied me. The knight, probably, from the calluses I felt. But all I could think about was, wrapping my daught in my arms. Together for the first time in years. And it had to be like THIS? Oh gods. Why was fate so cruel?

My little girl had grown so big.

This was a grown woman in my arms.

I just... I just wanted this terrible night to END. And as my daughters power slid over me? It did.

I woke up in a guest room. He dear friend Agatha had INSISTED. Geoffrey had worked for her family. It... it brought relief. To mourn with people who had known him. He had apparently spoken of me. Quite often. The sap.

It... it wasn't fair.

But when was life ever fair?

My daughter visisted. Now that i was finally closer. Her suitors dropped by, to pay their respects I think. Possibly win me over, as mother of their lady love. They were awkward little things. It was adorable. I was patient. Listened. Prodded them when then froze up, uncertain of what to talk about. Got them rambling about their hobbies. Really, it was no great difference then most shy kids.

The visited more. Stayed longer.

Brought gifts.

The gifts were expensive, elaborate, and wildly impractical. I was forced to gently explain why I, a peasant woman, could NOT accept their gift of fist size gemstones. It started with "I will be robbed" and ended with "they WILL be certain I stole these, no matter WHAT documentation you give me. I will die". They were very confused and alarmed. Much like puppies learning that suddenly treats were somehow illegal.

Agatha herself? Was a delight.

A very "mob" looking young lady with a sharp wit and an old man's sense of humor. Her personal maid was Geoffrey's niece. That neither held against me what had happened? Spoke of both of their maturity and grace. They WOULD however, never forgive the house that ordered the attack. I much agreed.

I considered, going back to the village, but...

The memories were too raw there.

I decided to follow my daughter, settle near wherever she decided to go. She seemed thrilled at the idea. Somehow, word spread. On the next visit, the future "head of the mage's tower" and man of entirely too many titles, Valtaan mentions an estate he owns near the Tower. How it lies empty. Would be the PERFECT place for a mother-in-law, you know... if he had one. Lovely gardens!

Oh, really?

Then, the Knight mentions how HE'S going to be stationed up North. In a Great Big Fortress with SO many rooms. Just... just SO MANY. Entirely too many, really. Honestly, he should bring more people! Like a wife! And... and a Mother-in-law! Really fill up the place, you know?

Mmmmhmmm.

The Prime Minister to be? Oh HE talks of TRAVEL. Ever considered traveling? The Embassies are LOVELY. So much to DO around them. Foreign lands, beautiful locals, silks and lovely little treats.

You don't say....

The Duke is blunt about it, at least.

I have a castle. I have SEVERAL castles. Estates. He is aware you are not motivated by that, but it does leave you with options for where you want to live should your daughter decide to marry him. And he DOES intend to marry my daughter. Second husband if not the first. Motivated, aren't we?

I politely infor both prince's, the SECOND they sit down, before they open their mouth, that I like them. I do. A lot in fact. But it's not going to happen. It'll be a cold day in hell the day I let my daughter marry into the royal family and they both know exactly why. They pause... consider it. Then nod.

They agree.

Wouldn't wish this life upon ANYONE who had a chance at something better.

My daughter graduates, with HONORS. There is much gnashing are rending of clothes from the elitist base. Ha! Get fucked. I STILL have no idea what the "twist" is in the plot or if I was being punked. Also not a single clue which, if any, of her suitors she's chosen. Could be all of um. I could care less so long as everyone consents and is aware of each other.

The graduation party is, naturally, grand. I'm in a dress one of the suitors likely bought for me. Somehow, I actually look like I belong. Instead of dancing and reveling, my munchkins hover. As though afraid to leave me alone at my first Big Girl Party. I laugh, trying to shoo them away. Go, go!

My daughter stubbornly shakes her head, leaning against me, her dress complimenting mine. Though I doubt I could be half as lovely.

"Noooo~ I refuse! I will be staying Right HERE, Mama!" Her voice is playful but... there's something strained. Desperate, that's never really gone away I think. Not since the accident. "What if someone tries to take you AWAY? You're too pretty! You gotta stay with US, mama!"

I laugh out loud, completely missing the interested looks that glance my way. Well to do gentleman, widowers and respected servants alike. Long time bachelor's, who's eyes linger a touch too long on the length of my neck, the curve of shoulder. The way it dips down, past my collarbones towards someplace... interesting.

My crowd of young protectors DO NOT miss the looks.

Bristle like angry cats. Eye venomous and society smiles sharp enough too cut glass. There is a murder to their expression. A command to Look Away.

While you still have EYES.

"No, Mama." My daughter insists when I try to tell her she's wrong. That I am far from desirable. "I'm not letting go. Not EVER. We're FAMILY. And that means? That means you're MINE."

[lovelytsunoda]

i can't get no satisfaction // mick schumacher

summary: camping out in the library after hours, and too stressed to retain information, the student librarian has an idea about how take all of that stress away. and it doesn’t involve reference books.

pairing: college librarian!mick x student reader

warnings: sex in a library, semi-public sex, this is so fucking filthy, mick is a sweetheart but he has a dirty fucking mouth. mentions of masturbation and sex toys. why does this man bring out the feral in me? the terms ‘librarian’ and ‘sir’ used in a sexual context (but in a playful way…for the most part)

authors note: now tell me why I can add a song here but tumblr won’t let me add ‘shallow’ as a song link to my angsty top gun fic and I had to publish it without?

there was a reason she always picked that table. a reason she’d started coming to the library in tight tops and cutoff shorts.

it gave her the prime viewing across the old library, beyond the green tiffany lamps, at the perfectly coiffed head of of blonde hair that rested behind the check in desk.

mick fucking schumacher. he was the reason most girls came to the library, if she was to be honest.

however, there was no time for that today, astronomy textbooks strewn across her table as she poured over star charts. she didn’t realize how late it had gotten, her test review notes only half filled out and an exam creeping up on her.

her ballpoint pen trailed across the computer paper as she recorded the names of the main theories behind how the moon formed, mumbling to herself in an attempt to remember the facts better. she had one Bluetooth earbud in, playing jazz music softly to prevent her mind from wandering.

it was all hands on deck if she wanted a chance in hell of passing her elective course.

two hands clapped down on her shoulders. she started, yelping as her pen trailed a thick black line across her page before clattering to the floor. heart racing, she yanked her headphone out, head whirling to see who had interrupted her.

“oh my goodness, I’m so sorry.”

mick. he stood behind her, clad in tight black slacks and and untucked dress shirt, the top few buttons undone and the sleeves rolled up to just before his elbows.

and, oh god, were her nipples perking up underneath her halter top?

“no, no, I should have paid more attention.” her voice was shaking, cracking slightly. “did you need something?”

“we closed like, fifteen minutes ago.” mick said sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck. “I didn’t want to disturb you, but I’m not getting paid overtime and I kind of wanted to go home.”

she sighed, massaging her forehead wrinkles with her fingertips. “yeah, okay. sorry, I didn’t realize how late it was getting.”

her stomach sank to the floor. she felt guilty for keeping him, and a sense of crushing dread when she realized how little information she really retained.

and under the student librarians gaze, his stunning ocean eyes boring holes into her skull?

she’d be damned to admit it out loud, but she felt horny as hell. she was so stressed with exams, and so wired from trying to study that masturbation was the only way she could get herself to go to sleep: tire out the body, and the mind will follow.

but her fingers didn’t cut it any more, nor did the tiny vibrator her roommate made her buy on a whiteclaw-fuelled trip to the local spencer’s.

“okay, just give me a second and I can help you put all of these away. I feel bad for keeping you now.”

mick helped her gather her things and tidy the table, offering her a metal shelving cart to load full of all the textbooks she didn’t need. they moved in an awkward silence as the blond reshelved the books and she pushed the cart.

“so, astronomy?” mick clicked his tongue, shelving a book on star charts.

“yeah, it’s a shitty fucking elective, that’s what it is. it’s causing me more stress than my actual subject major.” she snorted, sliding a few other books into the shelf. “I’m pre-law, but I’m not even sure if law school is what I want any more. right now, I just want to shut down, if I’m being honest.”

she stepped back from the shelf, moving to go around the cart when mick spoke up.

“so is that why you barely looked in my direction today?”

she stopped cold, her foot thudding against the side of the heavy metal cart. she bit back a curse, stumbling as mick caught her, pressing her body up against the shelving cart.

“I know you have a crush on me. I think it’s cute. you’re cute.” his voice was husky, and there was barely any space between them. her heart was beating faster, heat rising in her cheeks. “there’s a reason I always work at that desk too. seeing you makes my day.”

he was so close to her that she could have kissed him if he wanted to. all she would have had to do was press up on her toes to match his height, and gently touch her lips to his.

“don’t hide from me, pretty girl.” mick whispered. “I know how pent up you are, I can see it in the way your body responded as I ran my hands over your back. I want to help you. let me help.”

she swallowed, thoughts racing as she gripped his arms, looking up into his cobalt eyes.

she needed this.

needed him.

“yes.”

when mick kissed her, it felt like all the air was leaving her lungs. he was intoxicating, the heady scent of his cologne overwhelming her senses. she moaned into the kiss, aching and longing for human contact.

“my sweet girl.” he mumbled, trialing kisses up her jaw and over behind her ear, hands coming up to knead her sensitive breasts as she leaned back against the shelving cart. “when was the last time someone treated you right?”

“s-six months.” she stuttered, panting heavily.

it was pathetic, mick had barely even done anything and she was seconds away from whining for him.

he clicked his tongue, gripping her waist and pushing her back further against the cart. a few reference books fell to the floor, but neither student noticed. his breath was warm against her ear, the tip of his nose brushing her cartilage and making her shiver.

“that’s just won’t do. whenever you came in here, I bet you were thinking about sitting under my desk and using your cute little mouth the keep my cock warm.”

noticing how her body tensed up, the boy changed his tune. “or maybe you’re not into that. maybe you just wanted me to whisk you away to the rare book room and press you up against the bookshelf, have my way with you. our dirty little secret”

ah, yes. that was the reaction he was looking for, her thighs clenching at the thought as he slotted his knee on between her legs.

“that’s my girl.” mick cooed as she grinded against his thigh. “you just need my cock to fill you up, don’t you? those fingers of yours just aren’t the same, are they?”

she opened her mouth to respond, forehead resting against his, when she leaned back too far, the cart tumbling out from behind her.

mick caught her by the waist, smoothly spinning around and returning her to her feet, ignoring the toppled cart. nose to nose, the absurdity of the situation dawned on her.

and she laughed.

and he laughed with her.

that was what she needed from a man. someone who could laugh with her, even during their most intimate of moments, someone who let all the best parts of his non-bedroom personality shine through while also knowing exactly what she needed him to say to get her off.

a gentleman.

and that’s what mick schumacher was.

he carried her bridal style back to the long mahogany table, placing her down gently and sweetly before giving her a sweet kiss, his tongue teasing the seam of her lips.

“so, pretty girl, the ball is in your court now.” mick began, taking her warm hands in his cold ones. “whatever you need me to do, I’ll do.”

“I mean, I’ve heard the rare book room is super sexy. the smell of old books is like an aphrodisiac for me.” she said in a sing-song voice, thinking about his teasing from earlier. “then again, so are the vaulted ceilings in here.”

“I bet I could make you come so hard for me that you can see those stars on the ceiling fresco with your eyes closed.”

“wanna bet, pretty boy?” she was confident in her decision, but there was still nervousness behind her eyes.

she’d felt the way his dick pressed up against the seams of the zipper on his slacks. taking it was going to hurt.

he kissed her nose softly, fingers reassuringly rubbing circles on her skin. “I’ve got you, princess. you just need to relax and let me fuck all of that stress out of your pretty little head.”

she kissed him again, one hand on either side of his neck as she tried to press her body up against his, body flushed with need.

he gently turned her around, guiding her body so that she was bent over the table, the wood cool against her body.

mick playfully smacked her ass over her denim shorts.“such a pretty girl for your librarian, aren’t you?”

instead of the expected response, mick was delighted to get a laugh out of her. her giggles made him high, heat rising on his skin.

“was that supposed to be sexy?” she giggled, one hand reaching behind her to cradle his, thumb passing over his knuckles.

“maybe.” mick chirped. “baby, you’ve gotta let me have my other hand so I can get your shorts off.” she let go of his hand, allowing his smooth fingers to undo the button and gently draw the denim down her legs. “and for the record, I think that librarian is a damn sexy title.”

“but it’s not really a title.” she laughed, enjoying the feeling of his hands on her body, massaging the flesh of her ass before tugging her cotton panties to the side.

he smacked her ass again, cock perking up at the tiny moan she let out. “it can be whatever I damn well want it to be, princess.” his voice was playful, and it made her wet to no end.

she needed this adorable idiot to fuck her.

now.

there was little warning as he slipped two fingers into her, the cold of the rings on his fingers making her squeal as he started to flex his digits.

his fingers were so fucking long. they felt so much better than her own fingers did, that was for sure.

“that’s my pretty girl, taking my fingers like a goddamn champion. you’re fucking dripping, princess.” mick cooed, moaning at the sight of her arousal running down his wrist, the sound his fingers made as he scissored them inside of her. “atta girl, so good for your librarian, aren’t you?”

“yes.” she panted, bucking her hips against his fingers with a cry, reaching back to grab his free hand with the hand that wasn’t holding her steady on the desk. “oh, fuck, sir.”

god, she needed this. and for a nerdy guy, he sure fucking knew how to use his fingers.

she felt his hand come down on her ass again. “what did you call me?” his voice was light, with the hint of a smile behind it. “I want you to say it again, princess.”

“mhm, yes sir, please, I need more.” she exaggerated the moan, a playful smile on her face as she played right into micks hands.

she liked this banter they had going, this carefree way of looking at something most people took so seriously. no, this was an experience that felt uniquely her whereas other guys she had been with just did what they always did, not caring about what she needed to get off.

but with mick, yes, that dominant demeanour was still there, but in a gentle ‘let me take care of you’ way.

and that was sexy as fuck.

she whined as mick withdrew his fingers, tapping her side with two of his fingers. “turn around, pretty girl. I don’t like not being able to see your stunning face.”

while her thighs tingled, her chest bloomed with affection and love at the thought that mick thought she was pretty.

and it was true. the library was dim, the warm lighting from the tiffany lamps framing the flyaways from her hair and the pink in her cheeks. the cupids bow of her lips, and that gorgeous fucking smile.

he was so down bad for her, it made his cock ache.

she perched on the edge of the desk, wincing and attempting to hide her embarassment at the wet patch she was leaving on the old table, the unshaven landscape of her thighs (and between her legs).

goosebumps rose on her arms as she watched mick lick her juices off her fingers, moaning at the taste like it was his favourite thing in the world. sensing the goosebumps, he ran his hands up her arms to warm her up.

“you decide how far we go tonight, love. how many orgasms do you want?”

oh fuck.

mick laughed sweetly, seeing the overwhelmed look on her face. he kissed her forehead tenderly, brushing a lock of hair behind her ear. “how about we start with one and see you feel from there.”

“yeah. I’d like that.” she answered shyly, feeling the cold creep in.

the old library was drafty, yet kept to a very specific temperature. she expected to be overheating from how hot this encounter was, but alas, the air conditioning system just had to go and ruin it

“here.” mick said softly, undoing his shirt to expose the silver chain that rested below his sternum, a pendant with an orthodox saint carved into it.

he undid the shirt slowly, allowing her ample time to rake her prying eyes over every perfectly sculpted part of his body, right down to the tent in his pants.

sliding the shirt fully off, he used both hands to drape the soft fabric over her body. she swooned at the motion, letting him flip the collar up against her neck.

“don’t want you catching a cold now, do we, sweet girl?” he said sheepishly, his face flushed pink and a sheen of sweat on his abs as he cupped her face, leaning in to kiss her softly.

“mick.” she whined. “I need you now. I’m aching for my librarian to make me feel good.”

“I’ve got you, princess. I’ve got you.” he hummed, undoing the button on his slacks. he pushed down his boxers, erect cock springing to life.

“holy fuck.” she hummed.

his dick was impressive. all seven thick inches of it, resting against her thigh when she opened her legs and pulled him closer. she wasn’t even sure if it was possible for a dick to be pretty, but if it was, micks cock was the very definition of the word.

“so wet for me. I’ll slide right on home.” mick said, gripping his cock in one hand and running it all along her slicked up opening. now she knew her goosebumps weren’t from the cold, but from the anticipation of what was to come next.

“please, I need your cock.” she whined.

“whatever my girl wants, she gets. you just relax and let your librarian fuck all those little worries away.”

he slid in slowly, letting her adjust to take him inch by inch. the stretch burned slightly, and she found herself opening her legs wider with every inch. she had a white-knuckled grip on the table, her breaths coming out in a mixture of strangled moans and pants.

when he finally slid fully in, his heavy balls resting against her ass, she opened her eyes and changed a look down at where they connected, a moan leaving her mouth.

“that’s just what you needed, isn’t it love? a fat cock to fill you up and make you feel good.”

it was a question he didn’t expect an answer from as he started to thrust in and out of her, hands gripping her thighs to pull her in.

“oh, god!” she whined throwing her head back, breasts bouncing under her top as mick slammed into her. “feels so good, mick.”

“that’s my girl.” his voice was low and husky, but also soothing. his hands on her body was a grounding presence.

her fingernails scraped down his chest, leaving pink marks in their wake as she moaned, babbling incoherently about how good mick was making her feel.

it was heavenly. he overwhelmed every one of her senses. it was an out of body experience, if she was being honest. something out of her wildest dreams.

mick kissed her again, groaning into her mouth as he pistoned his cock in and out of her. she was practically dripping everywhere, but had no time or energy to worry about the mess she was making.

all she could think about was how good she felt with mick inside of her.

“just breathe, darling. you’re doing so fucking good for me.”

he shifted her position on the desk, maneuvering one of her legs over his shoulder. she yelped in pleasure, nails sinking into his shoulders as she screamed a curse.

“fuck, that feels so good!”

the new angle was dizzying, his length brushing up against her spongy walls with every thrust. her eyes rolled back and her vision went blurry from pleasure as she meweled under his touch.

“that’s it, pretty girl. come for me. come for your librarian.”

“oh, fuck, mick, I-“ her words tapered off into a hearty moan, micks shirt lying in a puddle behind her as she wrapped her arms around his torso, burying her head in his chest as she came with a cry of his name, tears leaking from her eyes. “mick.”

“I’ve got you, I’ve got you.” mick cooed, kissing her forehead as he slowed his thrusts, gently working her through her orgasm. “there we go, you’re safe here. just breathe with me, can you do that, princess?”

she nodded, out of breath as mick gently eased her achy leg off his shoulder and back down to the table. he slid out of her, and the empty feeling made her whine. he gently shushed her, covering her face in kisses.

“mick, you never finished.” she pouted

“don’t worry about it, princess. this was about you. all that mattered to me was that you got your earth shattering orgasm.”

she rolled her eyes, reaching for his still-hard cock. “let me do something nice for you, dumbass.”

and who was mick to complain when she was doing such a good fucking job stroking his cock? her hands were smooth and soft, and the angelic way that she looked up at him, that sweet smile on her swollen lips while her hands worked him to the edge?

within minutes he was bellowing, spurting thick measures of come over her hands and down her arm, his entire body shaking.

“Jesus Christ.” he muttered. “you’re good at that.”

“when you hate giving blowjobs, you learn how to give a damn good handjob.” she smiled softly, unsure what to do with her sticky hands.

mick scooped her up gently, carrying her away from the desk and down the long hall to the staff bathroom. “come on, love. let’s get you cleaned up.”

after they were somewhat presentable (because, after all, there’s little you can do about the flushed skin and sex hair when you’re still in a public library), they gathered the last of their belongings and started to shut the library down for the day.

“what about the shelving cart?” she asked shyly, gesturing to the cart they had knocked over.

mick laughed. “I don’t work tomorrow, so it’s someone else’s problem.”

she watched with a soft smile as mick turned all the lights in the old building off, before he linked his arm with hers and they began the walk out of the parking lot.

“I hate to sound presumptuous,” mick began “but you’ve been here all day and I haven’t seen you leave to get food or anything. you must be starving. there’s an all night diner about two blocks from here, and I’d like to treat you to dinner.”

she smiled, kissing his cheek. “I’d love that, mick. thank you.”

and they both knew that this was going to be the start of something wonderful.

as soon as exams were over, of course.

the rest of the student body’s female population was not going to be happy when they showed up at the library and found that y/n y/l/n had finally captured their librarian’s heart.

TAGS:

@magnummagnussen @libraryofloveletters @diorleclerc @twinkodium @thatsdemko @httpiastri @sidcrosbyspuck