#it was fun and I wanted to draw more today but now I’m exhausted

[sunnibits]

somehow it’s already a bad chronic fatigue day today. fucking hell.

[h0rnyshakespeare]

nightmares

pairing: katsuki bakugou x gn!reader

genre: reverse comfort

word count: 584

warnings: none!

It had been a long day at UA High. With finals coming up, it was needless to say that things were becoming more hectic. You rubbed your tired eyes as you stretched at your desk, thankful that the load of homework you had was finally over.

You glanced at your phone to check the time. It read 1 am. You sighed. Better late than never.

You walked over to your bed and immediately sank under its warm covers, drifting off as soon as your head hit the pillow… only to be woken up rudely by the sound of someone knocking at your door. Grumbling at whoever disturbed your much-needed sleep, you stumbled in the dark to your door. Your frustrations, however, all disappeared when you opened it to reveal your boyfriend. Katsuki’s blonde hair was messy and there were notable bags under his eyes. You frowned. This was out of character for him, as he always went to bed so early (something you’d constantly make fun of him for).

“Katsuki? What’re you doing here?”

“…Can I come in?”

You moved from the entrance, allowing him space to enter your room before shutting the door softly.

“Is everything okay?” you asked, softly.

He sat on your bed, exhaustion apparent on his face. “I’m fine. It’s just the damn nightmares again,” he said, looking away from you.

Your heart ached at his words. Ever since Bakugou had been kidnapped by the League of Villains, he’d have recurring nightmares about it. You hated that there was nothing you could do to stop them.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, holding your arms out to him. He wordlessly fell into your embrace; you began stroking his hair.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” you asked. He usually doesn’t, although that’s never stopped you from asking. Today’s the same, however, as he shook his head in response. “That’s okay,” you said softly, kissing his forehead. “Want me to get you some water?”

He shook his head again, his grip on you tightening.

“Okay, I’m not going anywhere,” you reassured him, continuing to stroke his hair and back gently.

You both lay in silence for a few minutes, before your boyfriend spoke up, surprising you. He usually never did.

“You must think I’m pretty pathetic, huh?”

“What?”

“Not being able to sleep just because of a few nightmares over something that happened ages ago. Pathetic.”

You frowned at his words. “Katsuki.”

He looked up at you.

“I would never, ever think you’re pathetic for going through this. You went through something traumatic, and it wasn’t ages ago, it’s still very recent. And even if it wasn’t recent, these things take time to heal from. It’s totally understandable why you’re having nightmares, even though I really wish you didn’t because I feel so bad that you have to experience that moment over and over again. I wish I could stop it. But I can’t. So I’ll be here for you in all the ways you need me. I’m your partner, ‘Tsuki. I’d never judge you. You’re handling all of this really well, and I’m so, so proud of you. Okay?”

He stared at you in silence before clearing his throat and hiding his face in your neck, not wanting you to see that your words made him tear up (even though you could tell). “Thank you.”

You smiled and resumed drawing imaginary circles on his back. “Now go to sleep, you need rest. I’ll be here if you have another nightmare. I’m always here.”

[a-998h]

Hey! It’s 🍉-Anon! I’ve been gone for a while, so I was wondering if I could request a SAGAU?? If I’ve already requested that’s fine, I can wait 🙂

Basically Teen!Reader was hanging out with whichever character, and in the spur of the moment they call the character Mom/Uncle/Dad/Auntie/Cuz(short of cousin) instead of by their name

Like for example, with Itto they were cheering for his bug, and in this case he won, so they yelled while hugging “You always win Uncle!” And after realizing they called him that, they pause before trying to escape- but Itto’s already put them in a bone-crushing hug

another Example, Reader is training with Ei when they say “Mom I’m so exhausted, can we stop yet?”

And a last example is Reader hanging out with Wanderer when they insult him, but call him Cuz in the same sentence

And like a bunch of other characters, and you can pick what title Reader accidentally calls them 🫠

Anyways, I hope you can do my request, take your time, and thank you!

-🍉 ANON

Author's note: sorry I've been inactive for a bit. Life has been busy. This fic does connect with Teen God! Reader.

Characters: Ei, Itto, Wanderer, Neuvillette, Ningguang

______________________ Ei

The archons had shared custody of you, and they each taught you different things that would be useful as a god. Venti taught you the arts, Zhongli taught you history , Nahida taught you science, and Ei taught you about weapons and battle tatics. It was her turn for custody, and she had started you on polearm training. She, of course, was a tough trainer. Your routine with her had you training for hours, and you didn't like it at all. You have to use a weapon you've never used before, this training lasts hours, you are sort of lazy, and wanted to explore Inazuma all day, damn it! But, Ei doesn't relent Ei "Today, will be a sparring match between you and I." Reader *sarcasm* "That's totally a fair fight." Ei "Child, I do not appreciate your sarcasm."

*hours of sparring later*

Reader *heavy breathing and sweaty* “Mom I’m so exhausted, can we stop yet?”

Ei freezes. She has been called many titles over her long life, sister, Baal,Beelzebub, Raiden,Kagemusha, but never mom. It made her feel warm, and fuzzy... so naturally this emotional closed off woman doesn't know what to do. After Yae explain Ei is not dying, and gives advice, Ei has a better grasp of the situation.

Meanwhile, you're embarrassed as all hell. She takes her new role seriously, and gets stricter, somewhat. Training is toned down, limiting the number of desserts, no hanging out with that werido Itto, stick by her or Sara in public, etc. While you want to be swallowed by the ground, she is trying to be a good mom. She will now only respond to mom, unless she has to look like the strong archon she is for the public. She will ignore you if you call her Ei, and she will be unintentionally petty about it.

____________________________________________________

Neuvillette

Yeah, Furina only has archon custody rights, on a technical level. She's more fun sister than responsible guardian, that's what Neuvillette is for. Most of the draw, you're hanging out with the Melusine, drawing, reading, walking tea times, or whatever keeps you busy while he's working. Today, Furina forced him to take a day off. His eye bags were darker than Collei's backstory, sleepier than Sayu, and Furina thought he really needed to see the sun and fees air again. Now, he's taking you on a day trip around the city. You two spent the day in a botanical garden, eating a nice lunch, and exploring the city, and now you're both stargazing.

Neuvillette *sitting on the blanket and pointing to a constatation* "That is Leo Minor, the sister to Leo Major." Reader *looking in awe*

Neuvillette *pointing to another constatation* "That is Lepus, the rabbit."

Reader *still looking at the stars* Neuvillette *smiling* Reader"Thanks for spending today with me, dad."

Neuvillette freezes. He is not good with emotions, but Furina has helped a bit. The feeling of being called dad is nice, he thought you would call him grandpa due to him being centuries old. Now, he tries to be a good dad for you, being a good mix of strict and fun. Furina helps him with the emotional stuff, and he smiles as you two interact, feeling warm agian. Like Ei, he will now only respond to dad in private, it's still Monsieur Neuvillette. He does notice how embarrassed you were, but it still makes him feel warm on the inside.

____________________________________________________

Ningguang

She has rich auntie vibes, like the stereotypical rich auntie, minus the shit talk and comparisons. How you ended up in her care, you have no idea. You just want to hang out with Xingqiu & Chongyun, but instead your being taken around Liyue Harbor on a shopping spree. She is going to take you to the Liyue Opera, but you need a nice outfit to wear. You're being taken around to different shops, and you're getting tired. Ningguang "This fabric is nice, but the colors don't compliment your skin tone." Reader *Tired and staring into the middle distance out of boredom*

Ningguang *going on a fashion tangent while looking for the best outfits for you*

Reader "Auntie, I'm tired and bored. Cab we just pick an outfit and go?"

Ningguang finds the perfect outfit, and buys it. She pretends not to hear you, but she does smirk at your bright red face. She has been called many thing, but never auntie. She knowns you're probably blushing, and worried you just embarrassed her. She leads you out of the shop, and gives you reassurance that you didn't embarrass her in public. From now on, she will fill her role as rich auntie. Buying you gifts, trying to match make you, slipping you some mora, and stuff like that. She will respond to her name, but she will incourage you to call her auntie. She shares good advice with you, and is making sure you find a good partner. Her current choices are Xingqiu, Yun Jin, Gaming, and Xianging.

____________________________________________________

Itto

You had escaped Sara and ran to Itto so you could have so real fun. It was a wonderful sunny day, and you two were being menaces. It started off with you two buying and eating snacks, playing with Ushi and other kids, trading card games, and avoiding being caught by Sara or Thoma. As you both ran away from the blonde housekeeper of the Kamisato estate, with you on Itto's back of course, you somehow ended up in a beetle fighting tournement with a bunch of 10 years.

Itto is battling a 10 year old girl, while you cheer for him. Normally, he loses his beetle fights. But, your cheering and platoic love fuels him, and he wins. He cheers and brags, happy he finally won. Itto "Oh yeah! I won! I am the onikabuto tournemeant king!" Reader “You always win Uncle!” And after realizing you called him that, you took pause, then your face goes red. You both know what just happened, and you're now trying to escape from Itto's reach. But, you still get stuck in a bone crushing bear hug. Now, he demands to be called Uncle Itto in eeyr context. He takes his role as fun uncle seriously. Remeber when grunkle Stan said, "this seems like the kind of thing a responsible parent wouldn't want you doing, good thing I'm an uncle!" Yeah, that is uncle Itto's motto now and forever so long as you're his nibling. You get to eat and do many things that Ei, Thoma, and Sara woul say no to. Stuff like, eating sweets in the morning, playing games and no tiring training. You get to wild and free, until one of the people you're both avoiding finds you and drags you back. ____________________________________________________

Wanderer

Oh god, you two are meneces to each other. Nahida loves you both as family, yet she is 🤏 close to having Cyno murder the pair of you. When Nahida and Alhaitham leave you two in a room for a short as 2 minutes, you'll both somehow look like you wrestled a hilichurl. It drives every authority figure nuts, be cause you two have no care for social settings. Now, at this point you're left alone with each other to try and become more civil. Only because you both had an insult battle in the streets of Sumeru City.

Wanderer *Glares at Reader*

Reader *Glares at Wanderer*

Wanderer "Cry baby!" Reader "Goblin man!"

Wanderer "Deranged god!"

Reader "Tiny choas man!" Wanderer "At least my fashion makes sense!" Reader "Aww, tiny goblin mad, Cuz?" You both pause, realize what happened and both want to be swallowed by the ground. Then, you both start cackling like a pair of lunatics. Now, you two get along like a house fire. You both now call each other "Cuz" when playfully insulting each other. The adults in your lives are happy you get along, but they're now mad you two act even more menece like. You both only do it when you're alone, having Alhaitham scold you both was not fun. All an all, you two cause problems are love it.

[madamechrissy]

But it's Better if You Do

ৎ୭ Pairings ৎ୭ Nanami Kento x Fem Reader

ৎ୭ Warnings ৎ୭ MDNI- Lap dance, teasing, fingering, more explicit as we go. <3

ৎ୭ Word Count ৎ୭ 5.9k

ৎ୭ Summary ৎ୭ Every weekday for a year, Nanami Kento comes into the coffee shop you work at, and he orders the same damn thing. You have it bad but are too nervous to do more than doodle on his cups. You have a double life, because you're also 'Foxy' a featured dancer at a strip club once a week. A bachelor party for Satoru Gojo has you dancing, and he's there. Nanami fucking Kento. You end up both in a VIP room, awkward, nervous, but then... it's your chance. He doesn't know it's you, right? What harm can a lap dance do? Surely won't be awkward the next day...

Masterlist

ৎ୭Chapter 1

The aroma of freshly ground coffee beans was your sanctuary in an odd way. It was a world away from the smoky haze and thumping bass of the club you danced at once a week, away from dance lessons you still took though they led to nothing. A world where you were just you, the barista, not 'Foxy' the dancer.

You were exhausted, concealer working overtime to hide the bags under your eyes, yawning a bit as you mix up an espresso for yourself. It was early and typically not many people came just yet, a little loll where you could peek at your phone, sip on that dark espresso… but one person always came first thing.

The bell jingles above the door, and you feel yourself flush. He was here. Nanami Kento, the man who had been a regular for months and months now. Damn near a year, and always ordered the same thing, sometimes getting another for his coworkers, but never anything different for himself.

He was so handsome, but so uptight that it made your mind wander as to what the man did for fun, or if he knew how to have any. You knew he’d be ordering his usual Americano, and he gave you a small little half smile, so charming it made you falter for some fucking reason.

He was in a tan suit, baby blue dress shirt, those fancy expensive glasses resting on his eyes, eyes you’d have died to see if you were being honest. His tie today was some cow print, yesterday had been leopard, the day before Zebra, perhaps a walking contradiction to his personality.

“Good morning, Nanami.” You say, and he nods, hands in his pants pockets, blonde hair slicked back but a small bit hung forward. Your fingers itched to push it back, and you clenched your teeth at the thought.

“Good morning.” He said your name so softly, it made you into a whole mess, as it had been for months now. God knows how you could dance on a pole once a week in lingerie, but couldn’t just fucking hit on him.

It was the ongoing joke of the café at this point.

“Hmm, perhaps a pumpkin spice latte?” You tease, as he shook his head with a little sigh.

“The usual. Make it strong.” His voice, even in this mundane setting, sent a shiver down your spine. You tried to ignore the way his eyes, usually so sharp and focused, seemed to linger on you for a moment too long behind the green glasses.

“Coming right up.” You tilt your head side to side as you turn away, brewing his coffee for him.

“Not sleeping well?” He asked softly, you turned in surprise, instantly insecure, touching your face.

“The concealer isn’t working huh?”

Two little lines creased between his brows, lips turning down. “Concealer?”

“Yeah I’m trying to hide the dark circles. Ugh. Do I look like shit?”

He was frowning now, leaning forward, hands gripping the counter, and you studied them, the veins popping out, and your mind went fucking awry. You lick your lips nervously, turning, snatching up his coffee and then popping a lid on it, drawing a little heart with a sharpie. Every day was a new stupid little shape, and he never commented about them.

“You could never look ‘like shit’ as you put it.” You damn near dropped the coffee, gasping, turning back around to see him, so tall and imposing, leaning over the counter toward you.

You wanted to grab that tie and yank him to you.

Fuck.

How’d a guy that said ten words to you a day have you so fucked?

“I… here.” You gently hand him the cup, and your fingertips brush, his hand lingering as yours did, before gently pulling away. “I don’t look like shit then?”

He smirked a bit, shaking his head, and you could feel the gaze on you, making you heat up, nervous. “You have never looked bad. Any day I’ve been in here.”

“You need better glasses.” You mumble. He laughed a bit, and the sound was foreign, it made him more… human.

“I don’t lie.” You believed him. You felt your cheeks flushing pink, looking down just a bit.

“Thank you, Nanami. That makes me feel better.”

“You’re… you’re welcome.” He cleared his throat. “I asked if you were tired because of how you were stretching your neck, and rolling your shoulders. You also were covering a yawn.”

You tense, gaze back at his eyes in those green glasses, wondering their color. You picked up a fresh almond croissant then that you'd just made, handing it to him. He smiled, and handed you cash then, far too much, as he tended to tip you every morning.

“You’re very observant.” You murmured, and he shrugged a broad shoulder. Dude was built like a whole action star, aching to break from that suit. It addled your brain more and more.

“I do notice things. Do you work outside of this?”

Your whole body is flushed now, he rarely tried to make conversation. You could never ever admit that you stripped once a week, danced on a goddamn pole. You made more doing that than all week here at the shop. You couldn’t imagine what proper, uptight Nanami might think of such a thing.

You were a show girl more than anything, you didn’t do dances or VIP rooms, because of your skill at dance and performance, you were instead a feature at various places. Once upon a dream you’d thought you’d make it as an actual dancer, but foolish dream that had turned to be. You still tried, even now, even exhausted, auditioning for little things, but it wasn't enough money.

Would that seem pathetic to such a wealthy businessman?

You clear your throat. “I do dance… I also take dance classes. I guess that does tire me out.”

“That’s impressive.” He surprised you, and you smiled at it.

“Thank you but no, not at all. Just an amateur hobby.”

“Well… I hope you have a good day. Thank you.” He held up his cup, peering at the heart doodle, and the raised brows and amused look on that chiseled face made you catch your breath.

“You’re welcome, you too! See you Monday!” He gave you a little wave, sauntering out. You watched him like a lovesick fool.

Oof.

“Why don’t you just ask him out?” The voice made you jump, and you looked to your co worker, Nobara. She was a gorgeous strawberry blond with a hell of an attitude that you loved.

“I… don’t think he’d be interested in someone like me.”

“Someone like you? Hot? Can dance on a pole?”

“Shh!” You two giggled, and you sighed sadly. She was sucking on a lollipop, tilting her head, short hair swinging as she studied you with soft brown eyes.

“You should just say how you feel. It’s been almost a year watching you pine for him. It's literally making me wanna scream.”

“I know…” You sigh, sipping your espresso and needing another. “I have this bachelor party at the club I have to dance an extra night for it because I mean shit… good money. I’m tired.”

“I know. You’re saving a lot though. Not much longer.” Nobara brushed your hair behind your ear, smiling. You were trying your best to save for an elite dance school. Every bit you made went to bills and that.

“That makes me feel better, Kugasaki. Thank you.” You peck a little kiss on her cheek.

“Should have him watch you dance, ooh, then he’d love you. You sure are a talented bitch up on that pole.”

“Ah, stop. Him in a strip club? No way.”

“The strictest ones are the most freaky.”

You two giggle, then a customer came in, and soon the throng approached, and you and Nobara killed it along with the help of your other coworker and friend, Yuuji, working in perfect sync.

Imagine Nanami Kento in your club on that one night a week you were there, you’d die of embarrassment. Some things were best left unsaid, and your ridiculous crush would remain one of them for sure. You just hope you’ll be able to get a nap before you go in tonight.

***

The scent of stale cigarette smoke and cheap perfume filled the air as you danced that night, dressed in a bright pink wig and slinky lace and sequined two piece costume. You gripped the pole of the stage as men gathered around you, the soft red lighting illuminated your body, your requested music blared by the DJ, slow and sensual. You had money thrown on the stage, men coming close.

The worst part was interacting. You wished you could just dance. You climb up the pole then, using your core strength and thighs, spinning, focusing on the moves versus everyone and everything around you. You flip your body, upside down, to the gasps of the crowd, even your fellow strippers and women there, that’s what you were here for, the showmanship.

You slide around on nothing but your thighs, thick and muscular, not as slender and ladylike as you may have desired, but they had power. You had power. Your hair falls down in silky waves as you spin, eyes closed, perfecting every twist and turn just so. You finally open them, feeling yourself close to the ground, stopping yourself with your arm.

The group of the bachelor party poured in, and instead of being raucous and wild, they actually all were attentive, studying you.

Ah, a show.

You smirk, and flip down, standing, bending forward with your ass in the air, clad in fishnets and little lacy panties. More money was thrown, more men sitting around you, but you climb back up the pole, pulling yourself up, and your legs spread wide as you spin back down, in tantalizing circles, head leaning back, until you’re on the ground, elbows and knees.

The sequined costume hugged your curves in all the right places, catching glinting light. You’re bent over in front of everyone. It did not feel the best. You were better just on the pole. But, you took your time, crawling towards the crowd. Each man tipped you, sliding them in your garters that sat on your upper thighs, some trying to be too bold, too touchy, but as you neared the bachelor party, you froze.

Amongst the honestly all gorgeous men, looking like pure money, there he was, Nanami fucking Kento. Looking awkward, uncomfortable, arms crossed, donned in a gray button down dress shirt and black slacks. He didn’t have on those sunglasses, and your eyes caught him in the dark.

He was captivated by you.

You fall from your position, and decide to make it look like you meant to fall to the floor, on your tummy, your ass in the air, popping back up, trying to make yourself breathe and stay calm. You looked nothing like you, he wouldn’t know, and you could literally live part of that fantasy you had, dancing for him.

You peer and there’s a couple men you recognize from the coffee shop, Nanami’s co workers, a tall handsome white haired man that you think his name was Gojo, was the groom to be. Clearly. He wore a whole sash that said ‘Bride to be’ and a shit eating grin, like the happiest man in the world. He was so pretty he was hard to look at, you’d thought before.

“Bride to be huh?” You tease, fingernails scratching on the little silk sash. Gojo laughs, poking at his cell phone over the music.

“I am! Satoru Gojo.”

“Foxy.” You smirk, and he rolls his eyes, smirking too.

“Sure you are. This is my wife as of tomorrow.” He scrolled through pictures, showing you a picture of a gorgeous woman that looked familiar as well, you’d served her coffee many many times, she was always super sweet. You were enamored, she was breathtaking in them, laughing and happy, usually more serious when you saw her.

“She’s so beautiful.” You flush when he gets to a nude, and he was pulling it back quickly with a wiggle of his brows.

“She is, though. I can’t wait to get her fucking pregnant. She’s finally down for it.”

“Oh god.” You purse your lips, and he seemed to give no fucks, clearly obsessed. He is sliding you a large tip respectfully into your hand. “She was okay with all this?”

“Yeah, she said don’t do anything dumb, but she’s the only one for me anyway. I just figured fuck it, let’s get the boys having fun. Though I will say, you’re one hell of a dancer. Imma have to bring her to see you.” His bright blue eyes glimmered in the light, and you laughed a bit.

“I’d love to meet her…”

“Oh fuck yeah. I need to see you give her a dance.”

“I don’t do dances, I’m more of a show girl here. But I'd absolutely make an exception!”

“Oooh, listen, can you make an exception for me?”

You frown. “What?”

“Not me. I’m a bride!” You giggle, he was unlike any bachelor you’d seen at any party before. “My friend.”

“I don’t know… I just do the pole.” You ease back, hands on your thighs, Gojo respectfully staring at your face the entire time.

“It’s for my buddy and I’ll pay out the ass. But give me a few, I need to know he’ll go for it.” Gojo tipped you again, and you sigh.

“We’ll see.” He smiles and nudges his head, as you slide over to the man next to him, just as tall as Gojo, long dark hair, tan and broad shouldered. God this office was attractive, but you personally felt Nanami took the cake.

“Beautiful dance.” The man said, who Gojo just called Geto, smiling and tipping you generously, sliding it in your waistband slowly. You flush.

“Thank you so much.” You’re on to the next, a man they called Sukuna. He was tanned and broad and devilish with his smirk, tattoos attractively running down his neck. His light brown eyes devoured your entire body, completely unlike Geto’s tease and Gojo’s respect.

“Gorgeous.” He winked at you, and you leaned forward when he put his large tip in between his teeth, grabbing it with your breasts, which were popping out from the top of the lingerie now. You tended to only go topless, versus doing any more, luckily the club was very good with everyone and their comfort.

“Thank you…” You say softly, then feel his gaze on you… Nanami.

He’d been studying you this entire time, respectfully, but full of admiration, to the point where when your eyes met it startled you. You had never even seen them, they were slanted up like cat’s eyes, sensual as fuck. In the dim club they appeared to be dark brown, nearly black, and when they moved lower, to your collarbone, it was as if he was caressing your skin.

You licked your lips nervously, wishing you could find the courage to speak. But instead, you focused on the way his gaze traveled over your body, the way he seemed to drink in every inch of you. It was intoxicating, exhilarating. In this moment, you felt beautiful and confident, despite the butterflies in your stomach.

How could you be so shy when you were dancing on a pole? Your tits were half out… and gorgeous men surrounded you. But Nanami's intense gaze became your undoing. You blushed, tucking your hair behind your ear, trying to act casual as he took out a large tip in his big hands.

“You're very talented.” His voice was husky, you tremble, smiling.

“Thank you.” You scooch to where he's between your thighs in his seat right by the stage, watching him tense with a hitch in his breath. You feel far too bold. He doesn't know it's you and he's here looking…

You slide a hand down your chest, to your nearly exposed breasts, gently tugging the material so a hint of your nipples showed. You watched his Adam's apple bob up and down as you held out the fabric, leaning forward, his hands were steady but his eyes were like a hawk on your lush breasts.

He slid the money into the strap of your bra, and the brush of his rough fingers makes you tremble. He notices, pulling back and catching your eyes. Fuck would he recognize them? You lower your lashes and attempt to look flirtatious and not like some weird shy stripper. You kind of fail.

You slide back up with a smile, but he halts you, another tip, sliding this one in one of your garters. His friends tease him mercilessly, and there's a little pink on his cheeks, on Nanami fucking Kento’s perfect damn cheekbones. A blush. You felt one form on your face too, your gazes locked, the hand barely brushing your thigh doing fucked things to your psyche.

“Ahem… thank you so much.” You say with a smile, turning and kneeling, ass in full view along with the curve of your back as you gather some wits, going down to pick up the numerous tips. Enough to where you could probably stop for the night.

After you've cleaned the pole, headed down off the stage to probably call it a night, Gojo stops you with a hand on your shoulder. You peer up at the tall pretty boy curiously.

“Would you do a VIP with Nanami over there?” Your heart stops as you both look at him. He is leaned in a chair, sipping whiskey, eyes burning into you. “He's always hated strip clubs and usually sits in a corner miserable. But he's clearly eye fucking the shit out of you. This is weird for him.”

You feel your skin heat up. “I really only dance here once a week, I get uncomfortable even taking tips close… I…”

“You're a shy stripper! So weird.” He teased you. You roll your eyes with a self deprecating laugh.

“I just do it for money and because I like to pole dance. Not exactly a regular stripper. There are plenty of beautiful girls here though that gladly will!” You gesture to the pretty ladies around you, fawning over the men. He shakes his head.

“Nope. Gotta be you. He hasn't even checked another girl out here. Pretty please?” He shoots his pretty blue eyes at you with a pout. You sigh. You can't do that… you can't…

“I mean… I could try to do a lap dance?”

“He'll get too nervous in front of us. He's uptight as fuck.” Gojo puts on his charm, winking at you with a grin. “I'll pay a fuck ton.”

“Oh gosh…”

“He's super respectful, he'd never touch you… shit even if you wanted him to, he’d probably be too shy.” Your heart falters. You know that. “You clearly like him, you can't take your eyes off the business boy.”

“I… well I…” You drop to a whisper. “I kinda know him.”

“Oooh!” He snapped his fingers with a devious look. “Even better. I love some good drama!”

“You're sort of a dick. No offense.” Gojo threw his head back with laughter at your glare.

“My fiance will love you for sure. She agrees! Listen, just do it for me. I'm the bride to be!” He bats white spiky eyelashes.

You find yourself growing more nervous, anticipation eating away at you. It's what you'd wanted forever wasn't it?

But it wasn't really you…

“Fuck it. Okay.” Gojo's grin is infectious. “I'm not the best at lap dances like I am on the pole though.”

“He won't notice. He's never had one. Okay let me work this magic on him.” He winks and heads to Nanami and your heart is thudding in your ears now.

Fuck.

You watched Gojo’s lithe figure walk over to Nanami, and you wanted to fall into the Earth, sure you were as red as the lights in the club, which luckily concealed the blush. You were a mess from his presence, a shy stripper as Gojo had put it, completely accurate. Nanami is in a serious conversation with him, Gojo’s hand on his chest, speaking into his ear.

Nanami's eyes hit you from across the bar tables, and he and Gojo ignored the other girls that walked by, aside from the shot girls. Gojo shot them all smiles but you could tell he was deep in love with the bride-to-be, and something in it made you wistful, longing… you were alone aside from your cat, Sebastian, who surely was angry you were out late tonight.

He’d probably scratch some shit up.

Nanami ends up walking back towards you with Gojo by his side, hands in his pockets, hair falling in front of his brow, eyes averted. Gojo pushed him towards you, then slid you forward with a sure hand on your back, making you two brush against each other a bit. You tense, and so does he.

“Dear God, you’re at a strip club, you two.” Gojo sighed, rolling his eyes. “So ‘Foxy’ here doesn’t do VIP or lap dances, she’s more the star of the show.” He shoots you a wink, and you clear your throat, thighs shifting when Nanami looks back at you.

“I wouldn’t say that, but yes, I don’t.”

“She’s making an exception. So, you two go on in there.” He smacks at both of your asses, and you both scowl at him, his grin wide and ridiculous. “Come on, come on, you two crazy kids. Have fun!”

Gojo shoves you two in the VIP room, and you and Nanami are there, alone, where it’s more quiet as you’re away from the booming music. It’s intimate… you run your fingers nervously through your wig, nearly pulling the synthetic hairs out, before taking a steady breath, peering around. You’d not even been in the little room, with the velvet plush couch, and disco lighting.

The couch was large and fancy, but somehow trashy at the same time, as strip clubs went this was the nicest, but still, something felt so off. All your fantasies of the stiff business man, who was literally being forced by his quite annoying friend into being in here with you.

“We don’t have to… like we can just talk if you’re uncomfortable.” You finally manage to say, feeling as if he truly did not want to be here. He brushes a hand against your shoulder then, bringing your gaze to his.

“I’m the one that’s supposed to say that.” He smirked, and fuck it was charming, as was his eyes and how they studied you. “You really aren’t a normal stripper, huh?”

“Well I make plenty dancing so I don’t sell things.”

“Do you want to do this?”

Your teeth bite your lower lip, and it’s on the tip of your tongue to say who you were, what you felt… but what would that bring? Confusion? Embarrassment?

If he’d found you attractive at work he’d have responded to one of your countless doodles or something by now right? You’d even asked who you now knew was Gojo’s fiancé for his number, and he’d come the next day and said nothing. You’d sort of given up at that point.

Was this your chance? To get a taste of him?

Unwinding… casual… letting go.

You take his hand, yours is swallowed by his, and he was so tall that even in platform heels you had to tilt your head back to look at him. His fingers grip your hand in response, and then you turn, leading him to the giant couch, gently pushing him to have a seat. You bend down, and you take his long sleeves and unbutton them, rolling them up to reveal his arms a bit.

You watched the muscles in his arms tense, showing how fucking built he was under there. Veins popping out. He allowed it, just studying your face still. “Are you blushing?”

You felt yourself heat up more, realizing the lighting here didn’t hide it. “Maybe I am a bit.”

“Overheated?”

“Sure.” You were a shit liar for someone who lived a whole double existence, you mused, finishing your job. “I wanted you a little loosened up.”

“Do you.” His voice was husky, deep, and it alone did things to you, wicked fucking things. You brush fingers along the veins of his forearms, watching a hand close into a fist in response. You lean closer, popping a couple of his buttons, to reveal just a hint of the ripped chest, drinking the sight in greedily.

“Much better.” You muse, and half expect him to take off your bra, but he remains still, watching, waiting. You slide your hands around his neck and press your body against his, and his familiar scent envelops your senses. “Everything okay?”

“It’s perfect.” You froze at that.

You know. There was no turning back now.

Your hands glided up and down his hard chest, teasing him, thumbs barely brushing bare skin, enjoying the little hitch in his breath. You push forward over him until your breasts are against his face, drawing his attention to them like a hawk. Your lips parted as his breath was hot against them, unable to hide your aching desire was mortifying.

You slid down his body now, bending low, between his legs teasingly, hands braced on his muscular thighs, eyes catching the growing arousal beneath his pants and shooting want through you. With each movement, you could sense him becoming more and more entranced, his breathing growing heavier and more ragged. Just like you.

His expression was a mix of surprise and desire, and you couldn't help but smile shyly up at him before you turned, rolling your hips, ass now rubbing against his hard body. It was so quiet, he did not speak, and neither did you, as you lean back into it, and his hands tentatively wrap around your waist, his first contact so far, and it was making your head fuzzy with pleasure.

You could feel the anticipation building between you, the air thick with tension when his grip tightened, his small sexy fucking sigh. You turn back around and glanced down, taking in his broad shoulders, toned arms, his lips parted. You reached out, bracing your hands as you straddle him now, the sensation hitting you so hard you struggled to stay still.

"Am I doing okay?" You ask, it came out teasing, but you were actually nervous as fuck.

He gave a nervous laugh, a fucking laugh! Nanami Kento could laugh… his gaze flickers down to the floor before meeting yours again. "You're doing beautifully." He murmured.

It was the first time he'd ever spoken to you like this, and you didn't know what to say in response. It was as if all the air had been sucked out of your lungs, world far away, leaving only the two of you.

Nanami reached out, tracing a finger down your cheek as you grind on him now, and you couldn't help but close your eyes and lean into his touch. “Is this okay?” He asks softly. You nod eagerly.

As his fingertip trailed lower, tracing the line of your jaw and then down your neck, you felt a shudder run through you, making it a struggle to continue confidently moving against where you were now growing wetter by the second. It was as if his touch was making every nerve ending tingle with desire. It was intoxicating..

You closed your eyes, savoring the sensation of the lightest caress, still respectful despite the wicked things your body was doing against him, an intriguing contradiction that messed with your brain. The music seemed to fade into the background.

You could feel the rhythm of it still as you continued to give him the best lap dance you could, swaying your hips and rubbing against his hardness through your lacy underwear. He's so respectful, never once making you feel uncomfortable or objectified. Instead, he watches you with such intensity that it takes your breath away.

His hands are touching you but nowhere inappropriate, the waist or your hips, though you sure wanted him to touch more, fuck. Imagining those big hands squishing your soft breasts, or gripping your ass… or…

As you continue to dance for him, you lose yourself in the movement, feeling the heat rising in your body, the blood pulsing through your veins. You're aware of every inch of his body as it presses against you, the way his hands grip your hips tighter and he raises his lap up and moans a bit is just…

The music changes, another song, you’d lost count how many, and you match your movements to the beat. You feel yourself growing wetter, and hot. He hisses then, suddenly, tensing against you, as if he could tell, halting your movements. His brown eyes shoot up to yours and you freeze, embarrassed. You flush, overheated from dancing and your mixture of horny and nervous.

“I'm… I… don't really do this. I just do the pole. Am I fucking up?” You murmur. He pauses your movements again, hands firm, licking his lower lip.

“No. Not at all. You don't have to do anything else, though, you've done amazing. I know Gojo put you up to this…”

“I want to do it.” Your words make you both quiet.

“You've done plenty if you want to stop.” He was so sweet it hurt your heart.

His eyes were dark with desire though, something you'd die for every day if it were you, truly you, and not just for ‘Foxy’.

“I want to kiss you, too. That's pretty fucked up of me huh.” You mumble out of nowhere before you could shut yourself up. Nanami pauses, and now you’re not dancing, you’re just pressed against his hardness, breath making your breasts rise and fall, your wetness fucking embarrassing at this point.

“That’s not fucked up.” His hand trembled a bit as he cupped your face, gently, making you feel so tiny with those big hands and broad shoulders as you leaned in, a ghost of a kiss just hovering between your mouths.

“Do you want me to?” Your whisper brings your lips closer. Nanami nods, thumbs brushing along your lower lip, and then his lips find yours in a soft, gentle kiss.

Everything stops, every worry has vanished from your head as his firm lips press into yours, pulling away, eyes catching yours. You see little flecks of green in them. You both just breathe, your hands gripping his shoulders, his still so tender on your face it made you ache. It felt like literal sparks shot through you when his lips pressed again, firmer this time, a little gasp making them part.

The kiss deepens, his hot tongue slipping in, and it ignites a sharp burn in your tummy. You moan into his mouth, arching your back as he kisses you harder, his tongue dancing with yours. Your hands entwined in his silky blonde locks, his firm grip now sliding down to your ribcage. His thumbs brushing under the cups of your lingerie. You wanted them on your breasts so bad your nipples strain against lace.

You can feel Nanami grow even harder against the apex of your thighs, and you wonder what it would feel like to have him inside you for an insane moment.

From a kiss?

Fuck.

Tongues are entwining, pressing against each other, losing yourselves in desire, but then he breaks the kiss suddenly, panting heavily, and those eyes look into your gaze. They're filled with desire, but also something else, something you've never seen before from anyone and couldn't put into words.

"I'm sorry," He says, voice rough with emotion. You frown.

“Shit, was it that bad?” You touch your lips, eyes shooting down, mortified. He laughs quietly, shaking his head. You fall for his laugh, fall hard.

“No. Not at all. I just don't want to be disrespectful… and I'm going to have a hard time stopping if we keep on.” Nanami's voice was hoarse, as affected as you, those hands sliding up further. Your eyes went wide, feeling the power he had suddenly, how tense he was, holding back… he…

You lean back in, wanting to say fuck it, to just give your pussy what she's been aching for a whole goddamn year, pressing back onto his hard body. Nanami moans into your lips, and before you know it he's on top of you, pressing you gently into the couch, and he is kissing you, his fingers finding your wetness quick, so hot for him, over your lacy panties.

You gasp at the contact, with only the panties as your barrier, which you’d fucking soaked, and are trembling when he pulls back, his lips parted, shimmering from your kiss. Your hands grip at his dress shirt, clenching just like your fucking cunt wanted to around his cock.

You had never expected this, even having just kissed him, how he just took control… consumed you. It was possibly the sexiest thing you’d experienced. No, it was the sexiest thing. Nanami slid a long finger under your panties then, twisting them and pulling them to the side, and a cry rips from your throat.

He could now fully feel your pussy. He is sighing and lowering his body as his fingertip grazes your aching cunt, up your slit, so slow and tantalizing.

“So fucking wet.” He murmured, and you nearly fucking died as the fingetip slid against your clit, nearly doing you in, rubbing in a gentle little circle, your hips buck up, and you’re gasping.

Then you really died as he pulled his finger away for too fucking soon, licking your desire off, sucking it while shutting his eyes and groaning. He just… Your mouth drops, and your pussy throbs around nothing again, literally hurting from it. He leans back down, his hand inching up your inner thigh, lips kissing up your jaw. You shift, dying for more of his caress, of his kisses…

You're about to just beg him to fuck you at this point, uncaring of whatever that would even mean, how unlike you it was, when the bachelor party rolls in the room, drunk, raucous, and Nanami quickly sits, pulling you up with him. He adjusts your top so you’re covered, as if you weren’t stripping earlier, so gentlemanly… but then he’d just tasted you…

They all start fucking with him, yanking him away, and his eyes catch yours across the room.

Gojo comes to you with a smirk, handing you far too much money. You didn't want it. You shove it back at him, but he pushes it into your garter instead.

“It's your job, ‘Foxy’. Make the money.”

“I had way too much fun…” You whispered, and he seemed far too pleased about it. “Yeah that wasn't even work… I’m…”

“Oh fuck. You're in deep for Kento, aren’t you?” You nod, and Gojo seems to oddly understand, hand gentle on your arm. “I'm looking forward to him finding out who you are.”

“I'm sure not! I’ll die.”

He laughed, and they dragged Nanami away, leaving you two alone for a moment. “I believe in you. ‘Foxy’. Be brave.” You laugh breathlessly.

“Congrats on the wedding tomorrow, Gojo.”

He grinned, shooting you a peace sign. “I’ll be almost as pretty of a bride as her!”

You collapse on the sofa, so many thoughts fucking whirling.

You'd kissed Nanami.

He'd touched you… fuck he tasted you!

How would you face him Monday, serving him with his dumb almond croissant and black coffee?

You…

You were in deep.

Chapter 2

(Finished fic on Ao3, I'll be posting chaps on here too though)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/56003029/chapters/142230640

[ryomaandgundhamkin]

Okay. I have a lot to explain. First:

Listen- I am REALLY sorry for not drawing a lot. For the last month (by this point it’s probably been a month), I’ve been really, really behind on drawing and TSAMS lore. I don’t really feel that I’m apart of the fandom anymore. I just lost all my energy to actually dedicate myself to the lore of the show. I feel exhausted. Plus, school isn’t helping. For the last two weeks it’s been kind of hard for me, I mean aside from my trip, but then I had to catch up on work then do 1 project. I had two tests today.

Art block is hitting hard and I hope you understand. I just feel like I want to draw, I have a lot of ideas, I just can never get a result I actually like. It’s a process of drawing and deleting all my progress. I feel like it’s either 1., I make too much art, which in turn exhausts me further, or 2., I don’t make art at all. I’ve just been lurking around Tumblr and going around, like “oh I’m so going to draw this”, but I’m realizing that I definitely do not have enough energy to draw anything TSBS right now.

My main focus at the moment is school and school only. I hope you understand this because I had a shit ton of late work I had to do from the days I missed while I was away (7 fucking pages), and I had to zoom through that, THEN I had the science test. I had my math test today and I did well and now I’m tired af. I just don’t feel like drawing in general, period. Coloring maybe, but I just have too many things to do OUTSIDE of drawing online on here. Basically this is just me taking a small break. I’m sorry that content may be slower on my account, but I feel like I need this or else I will eventually just actually pass out from the stress. No one did nothing wrong aside from me. I’m just torturing myself. My brain hurts and my sleep schedule is damaged. Planning events is NOT fun and every weekend, I seriously just want a break, but OH someone’s coming over or we’re doing something or we’re going somewhere. I seriously cannot take a break unless I have NOTHING TO DO, which is kind of impossible considering my mother’s plans.

I just don’t feel like drawing. I feel like I’m starting to sleep more early everyday. My mind is a mess. It hurts. It hurts.

I’m just so sorry about this. I hope you guys understand I may not be in the best mental state (even if I act like I’m not, and same at with school, @kiwikay3 …), and I don’t feel like drawing for a bit. Just expect me to give you updates once in a while and maybe that’s it. Just don’t expect a ton of content or doodles from me.

This problem has nothing to do with you guys, I just want you to know this and know what to expect from me from now on. I’ll catch up with all my art requests and things like that eventually, I just feel like school has taken a toll on me. On my health. But, just myself overall. I don’t want anyone to worry. I’ll probably be active less and less so it’s fine if you unfollow me or something because I feel like I’ve already failed you all, and I’ve already reached the peak of my art journey (mid-October or so). I’m so sorry but I feel like when I write these I just get so emotional and I can’t really describe any of it in words. I’m probably going to sleep after this before I actually start crying. I’m actually so annoyed and sad and I just feel so many emotions. My brother is not helping, because HE does not care about his physical health so me and my parents do instead.

Sorry. Thank you all.

I feel like I’m going to have a mental breakdown fuck i hate this

[michellemisfit]

✨Weekly Tag Wednesday ✨

Thanks for creating the game and for the tag @jrooc thanks for the tag @vintagelacerosette

Today we’re talking fandom. Come play!

Name and A03 handle: Michelle, michellemisfit

Current Location: Living room, surrounded by feathers, as I’m currently fletching some arrows

Favourite picrew: This one is pretty fucking spot on. Or at least it was at the time. Hair is very different now. But then, hair is always different… lol

Also this one is spiritually VERY me

What's one thing you want in a picrew? Ability to add coloured streaks! And a wide selection of scars, or alternatively the ability to move them around the screen. Either is fine. But mostly the hair thing. My hair is generally 4 different colours. Don’t try and limit me to one!!

Favourite thing you’ve created (or seen created) for the fandom? Erm… 3 way tie between Mexico Gallacrafts, Fimo Gallavich, and Cookie Gallavich? Maybe? Argh. Turns out, looking back at my art tag… I’ve created some pretty cool stuff. Huh. Yay me.

Why is it your favourite? I don’t really do photography, and I’m really proud of the idea behind and the execution of that photo. And while I LOVE drawing more than anything, I don’t think I’m exceptional or anything. But I’m damn creative when it comes to silly 3D craft projects, so both Fimo Gallavich and Cookie Gallavich make me happy and feel like something not just anyone could do… I dunno.

Did it come easily or was it hard to create? It was LONG to create. Both cookie and Fimo Gallavich took several days in total. And I think that’s the other thing I like about myself. I am willing to put in the work, and it usually pays off.

Last ao3 fic you commented on? Hah! You’ll be able to corroborate this, I’m not just sucking up!! LOL I’m currently reading Camp is a Battlefield by @blue-disco-lights, @jrooc, and @mybrainismelted, with artwork by @creepkinginc, so that’s the last one I commented on :)

Biggest WIP heartache you’ve ever experienced? I mean… every single WIP I have ever started reading, only to realise that maybe there won’t be any more of it… 😱 Every. Single. One. They’re all special, and they all hurt in their own special ways. And I will remain subscribed to all of them FOREVER, because you never know!!

Also? Comment on WIPs. Tell authors how much joy the story brought you, how much space it’s occupying in your brain, how much you would love to see it continue but how happy you are to have read as much of the story as there is because it’s changed your brain chemistry… do NOT comment saying ‘next chapter when?’, cause that makes you a dick bag.

Favourite trope or head cannon you like included in a fanfic? I’m a sucker for fake dating, only one bed, and a soulmate AU 🤷🏽‍♂️

Least favourite? …not a huge fan of kid fic, but hey, all it takes is a great author to make it work.

Secret or surprising kink or trope? Again, do not kink shame, because you’re only ever one good fanfic away from discovering something about yourself you did NOT see coming…

Describe how you feel after you’ve created something new? Exhausted and antsy. Is it good enough? Are people gonna like it? Should I even bother anyone with this? Why don’t I just go and hide under a rock forever?? I felt okay about this when I finished it, why is it suddenly the worst thing to have ever been created??? …I wish there was a sense of calm and accomplishment. There is not. Brains suck!

Top hype man you have that always helps you get across the finish line: @deedala - I so appreciate how we’re on a similar wave length when it comes to art as well as ‘everybody wants to hunt me for sport’ vibes. I know I can always count on you for kind but honest words, and that’s so important!!

It's been a bad day, you turn to the fandom and you _____? Read comfort fic. Probably Like Real People Do or None the Wiser.

Edit: Also? Go and read comments and tags on old art posts. That’s a sure fire way to cheer me up!

This was fun, and made the 15 minute wait between fletching each feather pass much faster. Thanks!!

If you are currently making your own arrows and need something to occupy your wait time with… how about completing a tag game? lol

@heymrspatel @loftec @creepkinginc @deedala @too-schoolforcool @darlingian @iandarling @iansw0rld @ian-galagher @mybrainismelted @palepinkgoat @crossmydna @mikhailoisbaby @sickness-health-all-that-shit @rereadanon @rutherinahobbit @energievie @junemermaid @francesrose3 @deathclassic @faejilly @rutherinahobbit @gallawitchxx @look-i-love-u @jessij1997 @callivich @celestialmickey @wehangout @doshiart @lynne-monstr @the-rat-wins @blue-disco-lights @suzy-queued @sleepyfacetoughguy @spookygingerr @burninface @gallapiech

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Yandere Male Monster Musume: Feeding The Beasts Pt. II

“Today is my day!!!!”

A collective groan came from everyone who clutched their pillows as they stuffed their faces in hopes of silencing the harpy’s cheers. Since before the sun had risen Pypi was especially vocal about it being his day. Shouting it from the top of his lungs as he triumphantly shouted into his monster roommate's ears while you groggily left Milo’s room for Pypi’s. 

As per the schedule—your newest attempt at combatting their violent battles for your attention—it really was Pypi’s day for you to spend rime with. You let his early excited fluttering about your renovated home continue as you slept in for as long as you could…before Pypi came to shoot you awake. 

“Come on, (Y/n)! Are you going to waste my day sleeping!?”

You groaned, pulling the covers up to hide yourself from Pypi. Nuzzling into the softness of Pypi’s bed when the harpy pulled away to pout quickly switching to a face of pure happiness. 

“Unless (Y/n) would rather spend the whole day sleeping together? I’d love to do that!”

“Ah-okay! I’m up, I’m up!” 

“Awww.”

Carrying out your morning routines side by side you two ended up in the living room to stand in silence. When you confirmed that it was Milo’s day he rushed off immediately with a plan for what he wanted to do, you were waiting for that same thing. But it didn’t seem it’d be the same with Pypi.

“...”

“...”

“...So uh Pypi what do you want to do?”

“Hmmmm I don’t know!”

“You don’t know?”

“Nope!”

“Well didn’t you have a plan for when we spent time together?”

He pouted as he crossed his wings, “Well I did suggest we stay in bed and–”

“WE ARE NOT DOING THAT!”

“Well…I don’t know what else we can do.”

“You don’t?”

“Nuh-uh.”

“Okay then how about–”

_____________________________________________

“This–is–the—best—time—-in—my–-life!”

“It—is—right?”

Thankfully the great thing about the harpy-monster type was that being childish ran through his veins. Thus jumping on the bed like absolute hooligans works perfectly well as an activity together that didn’t include…something that will get you arrested. But like a child his attention was short.

“I’m bored now.”

“Huff~A-already but we—were having such fun!”

“It’d be more fun if we took off our clothes!”

“Aaaalright on to the next activity! Ever tried checkers?”

_______________________________________________

Board games and pieces sprawled across the floor before your exhausted for, while Pypi played solo with a game console on the couch. You only looked up after you hear the halted clacking of hooves that only spoke of Centoreo coming near. 

“Master (Y/n)? Are you alright, you look exhausted although I’m certain you should have gotten to sleep in today?”

You groaned, “It never stops. His energy…and I can hardly keep his attention from doing anything other than the—’s’ word we shall not speak of.”

Centoreo nodded in understanding, flashing a tentative cerulean gaze to the harpy grossly absorbed in the game. 

“Right…but it seems you’re mostly unscathed. Which is more than can be said with a certain wormlike resident.” He whispered the last part with a shudder as you stifled a chuckle. 

“That is true…but I have the sneaking suspicion he’s up to something…I just don’t know–”

“What it is? Well it better not be sex!” 

“S-smith?!” “Y-you!?”

The agent leaned on you obnoxiously forcing you to unsuccessdully push him off as he talked.

“Yup so what’s for dinner darling? Since you’re all tuckered out from not-having-sex are you doing take out?”

“For your information–”

Suddenly a gust of fierce winds assaulted your face and Smith’s, causing you both to look up at the perpetrator. Centoreo was reaching for the phony sword he kept at his side but even he was late to draw before the harpy.

“NOT FAIR! NOT FAIR! (Y/N) IS MINE! ALL MINE SO DON’T BOTHER US!”

Before you realized it the window had broken and you were so far off the ground the lights of your suburbia were simple flickers. Despite the talonned grip on your shoulder you felt more comfortable holding tight. You tried to speak to the one in charge of your flight but the wind whipping in your face wasn’t helping in the slightest so you swallowed your questions as Pypi flew further into the night. 

_________________________________________________

“N-no this isn’t the right place! Stupid! Stupid!”

Pypi’s squealing falling upon no one but your own as you clinged to him on the peak of a sky scraper in the city. He was mad at himself. Banging the tip of his wings into his head as he fought tears.

“W-why i-is this the wrong place? I-it’s beautiful up here, isn’t it?”

You clinged to him more than aware of the dangerous situation his bird brain posed once again. Having apparently forgotten that he needed to support your weight while you had your arms wrapped around his neck. It surprised you how sturdy he was being able to withstand your own weight before he properly held you against him, cradling your bottom with his wingspan. 

He sniffled into your neck,”I-i keep forgetting—to bring you to the place I meant to! And its all cause I’m such a–”

“H-hey no need to beat yourself up! You’ll remember…eventually?”

You tried to pull your best main character pick-me-up tone as you as quickly as you could bare to pat his back. That seemed to do the trick as he squeezed you tightly against his chest as he looked out at the city from behind your back.

“Y-yeah a-and at least I get to spend my day with you!” 

“Y-yeah now can we please go home I-I’m sure everyone is hungry.”

“Well hopefully they can all die on Milo’s cooking while we eat out!” 

“Pypi!”

“Fine. I know you didn’t bring your wallet so that plan was bogus anyway!” 

“Uggh!”

 You hated how much you agreed with him but at the very least you got some insight. No doubt this wasn’t the same type of fulfillment Milo was seeking but it seemed to work on nonetheless…kinda....

Next was Centoreo, but you don’t have to worry he’s guaranteed to be a breeze. More so than Pypi could ever pretend to be.

[aaronhotchnersworld]

Hi! I saw you were looking for Aaron requests. Its a little (okay veeery) cliche but i love when Jack exposes Aaron and readers relationship to the team. I will leave the rest up to you! thank uuu

Hi I hope you enjoy this!!! I know i’m not the best writer but i’m trying my best!

——

As you walk into the BAU for the day, a paperwork day to be specific, you see Jack in Aaron’s office. It immediately makes you smile, which you are grateful for considering you were extremely exhausted from the lack of sleep you got last night.

You and Aaron have been dating for 2 months and haven’t told anyone on the team yet. You’ve spent plenty of nights at Aaron which included spending time with Jack aswell, which you loved.

You make your way to your desk and set down all your belongings, greeting the rest of the team. You make your way up to Aarons office, knocking before entering.

“Y/N,” Jack shouts as you walk in, running over to give you a hug. “Hi Jack,” you say with a smile.

“What are you doing here,” you ask him.

“I don’t have school today so daddy said I could come with him to work!”

“ohooo fun,” you tell him. He walks back over to the couch to continue working on his drawing.

You sit in the chair across from Aaron and give him a small smile. “You alright,” he asks you with concern laced in his voice.

“just a rough night but im better now that I get to see you and Jack,” you tell him honestly. He reaches across his desk and takes your hand into his.

“I should go get started on my paperwork and let you finish yours,” you say with a frown as you stand up and make your way towards your desk.

Emily’s desk is directly across from yours so you always talk to her about the most random things, especially on days where you guys are doing paperwork.

“I went on a date last night.”

“oh my- tell me more Em,” you say excitedly.

“He lives in my apartment complex, and he finally asked me out. We went out to dinner and it was so fun I loved it,” she tells you happily.

“aww Em i’m so happy for you. What’s his name?”

“His names Tyler and he’s an occupational therapist, he’s so so nice.”

“this is so exciting,” you tell her with a smile on your face. “I know, i’m so happy,” she says.

After you guys wrap up your conversation, you all start working on your paperwork. You look up as you see Aaron and Jack walk out of his office.

Jack runs up to you and says quite loudly, “when’s the next time you’re coming over to have a sleepover with me and daddy?”

Everyone looks up from their paperwork, smiles flooding their faces.

Penelope just so happened to be standing next to Derek’s desk, speaking to him. She was the first to say something.

“OMG Y/N AND HOTCH AWWW WHY DIDNT YOU TELL US?!”

You giggle at her response as Aaron and Jack stand next to you.

“why didn’t you tell me y/n this is so exciting!” Emily says with a big smile on her face.

The entire team was so happy for you and this was a big stress reliever for you both.

“We’ve been dating for two months, we just wanted to see how things went before telling you all,” Aaron says with a smile as he puts his arm around you.

“i’m happy for you,” JJ says happily.

“so am I,” Derek says.

“good for you guys,” Rossi tells you both.

You smile at all of their responses, feeling so much better knowing you don’t have to sneak around anymore.

“Thanks guys,” you both say happily.

“Now if you would excuse us, i’m gonna take my girlfriend and my son out for lunch.”

“you go guys haha!” Penelope says.

The three of you walk to the elevator and enter when it opens. “I didn’t mean to tell them,” Jack says with a frown.

“no no no buddy don’t worry about it. You didn’t mean too and we’re so glad they know,” Aaron reassure his son as he kneels down to be on the same eye level with him.

“we’re so happy Jack don’t apologize for anything,” you tell him softly.

Aaron stood back up and engulfed him in a hug. He kissed your forehead.

You were all happy and could finally be open with your relationship.

[atlafan]

1963 - Part 1

a/n: I have been dying to share this with yall and I'm so excited to finally be doing that. As per usual, this is the only part that will be posted here on Tumblr.All other parts will be posted on Patreon. In fact, Part 2 is already up! And Part 3 will be posted Friday.

Please consider joining my Patreon. It's only $5 a month, and it charges you the following month on the date you joined. So, if you signed up today, you wouldn't get charged again until January 10th. I post 2-4 times per month. If anything is under 10K words, that's usually when I'll post more. I depend on this extra income to help pay bills for essentials. The community there is also incredible and I write and post some of my nastiest smut on there, so if that's what you're looking for, you'll get it!

Warnings: mentions of infertility

Words: 3.8K

Patreon I Patreon Masterlist I Tumblr Masterlist I Ask

“Every month I keep hoping I’ll have different news for you two,” Doctor Simmons sighed, “unfortunately, I have the same news. Beverly still isn’t with child.”

“We’ve been trying for five months, we’ve been doing everything you’ve said. Beverly drinks the teas, she lays with her legs up after we’re done, I don’t know what else we can do.” Robert was exasperated at this point. He was squeezing his wife’s hand, desperately trying not to let any tears escape his eye ducts.

“You two have exhausted all natural remedies, so I think it’s time we consider IVF.”

Beverly’s eyes widened, and she squeezed Robert’s hand back. She looked at him, panicked.

“Beverly is terribly afraid of needles.”

“You don’t need to decide on anything right now. Take these pamphlets and look over the information. If you two want to have a baby of your own, then this may be the next step.”

“We’ll look it over and have an answer by our next appointment.”

Robert and Beverly are silent on the drive home from the doctor’s office. They’re silent on their way back into their home. Beverly goes right to the kitchen to get started on dinner. Robert comes up next to her and puts her hand over hers.

“We should read the literature on IVF.” He said.

“I have friends who have done it, and all it has done is make their hormones crazy, and not in a fun way. I really don’t want to, Robert. I’ve done everything else, please don’t make me do this.”

“It feels like sometimes I’m the only one who wants to have a baby.”

“How could you say something like that to me? If I’m infertile-“

“You’re not, though. Doctor Simmons has run every type of blood test on you.”

“I know, I was there when the nurse was drawing it after you accused me of secretly taking birth control pills.”

“Well, with how apprehensive you were about having your diaphragm removed, I had to make sure you weren’t doing any self-sabotage.”

“Maybe I’m not getting pregnant because my body knows you don’t trust me.”

“I do trust you, you just weren’t exactly thrilled to start trying.”

“You sprung it on me, I was surprised. We never really discussed having kids before we got married.”

“Sweetheart, why would two people get married if not to have kids?” He chuckled.

“That’s not why I married you. I married you because I love you and I want to be with you.”

“I love you and want to be with you too. But if I hadn’t wanted kids, we could have just shacked up in an apartment in the city. I bought us a house in the suburbs so you could keep house and raise our kids. You like being a housewife, you’ve told me as much.”

“I do. I like making your meals and keeping things tidy, but I also like my free time. I like to go have brunch with the other ladies, and I like going to the library to check out new film analysis journals, and I like being able to go to the movies in the middle of the day. Having a baby means I can’t do those things anymore. At least, not until it’s old enough to go to school. That’s five solid years I’d be putting on hold. And within that five years, I could have at least two more kids. So, now I’m thirty-one with three kids under the age of five, and oh yeah, I’ll still be expected to keep the house clean and cook all your meals and pleasure you even though everything between my legs will feel like sandpaper.”

Robert eyes his wife, then puckers his lips in thought. “Is that how you’ve really been feeling? You haven’t said a word.”

“I didn’t want to disappoint you. You’re not easy to talk to these days. Every time I reach for my clip-belt for my sanitary napkins, I can see you watching with such sadness in your eyes. Motherhood is scary. My friends tell me these horror stories about childbirth. Their husbands barely take a week off from work to be home with them and the baby. So, we’re expected to push these kids out, then get up the next day and get back to our usual routines.”

“Beverly, you’re worried about things women have been doing since the beginning of time. Don’t be such a child. The fear of needles I can understand, but the fear of being a mother makes no sense. I know you and your mother have a strained relationship, but that doesn’t mean history will repeat itself.” He placed his hands on her shoulders. “If we’re not pregnant by our next appointment with Doctor Simmons, then I would like us to start IVF. Have I made myself clear?”

“Yes, dear.”

“Good.” He looked at the ingredients on the counter and grimaced. “I don’t want meatloaf tonight, make something else instead.”

“Yes, dear.”

“I’m gonna go to my office, have a beer, and listen to the ball game. Let me know when dinner is on the table.”

“Yes, dear.”

Robert smiled, grabbed a beer out of the fridge, and walked out of the kitchen. Beverly took a deep breath and rummaged through her cabinets to see what else she could possibly whip up for dinner. It needs to be something heavy enough that Robert won’t feel like making love before bed. Beverly doesn’t have it in her to put on a performance tonight.

**

Most people get married to have kids. Beverly married Robert because she loved him. He wanted to take care of her. But when the honeymoon phase ended, and he stopped saying thank you to her for all of the things she did to take care of him, she grew resentful. She never let on about it. Robert didn’t need to know how she really felt. Opening up the way she did the day prior wasn’t normal. Things had been good between them for a long time. Beverly didn’t mind stepping into the role of a stay-at-home wife. She was college educated, but it wasn’t like she’d ever be able to carry a position in the profession of her desire. And since she didn’t want to be a schoolteacher or a nurse, Robert asked her to stay home to tend to the house he had bought for them.

At twenty-three, she really hadn’t minded. They met in college, as so many young couples do, and it was love at first sight. Their courtship was disgustingly romantic, and their wedding was a dream come true. The honeymoon phase was so sickly sweet. Beverly enjoyed making breakfast for Robert before he left for work. She enjoyed sending him on his way. She had the whole day to herself. She’d tend to her various gardens, and she’d make sure the house was clean. She’d meet up with friends for brunch. She did everything a good wife was supposed to do.

At twenty-six, Beverly feels like she’s on autopilot. She can’t help but wonder if the reason why older couples have designated sex nights is because the wives must need the six days in between to psych themselves up. She also can’t help but wonder if this is why so many older couples opt for twin beds that can be pushed together or pulled apart.

And it’s not that Beverly doesn’t want kids, she thinks it could be fun, but she’s petrified of essentially raising a child by herself. Robert will stroll in from work, bounce the baby on his knee for all of two minutes, and call it a night. She’s scared for all the reasons she tried to explain the day prior. Robert also didn’t give Beverly a choice five months ago…

“I was thinking of maybe enrolling in graduate school.” Beverly brought up one morning over breakfast. Robert had nearly choked on his toast. “I know what you’re thinking, but you wouldn’t have to pay for a thing. They have stipends for students. I could teach while I learn.”

“I thought you didn’t want to teach.”

“I didn’t want to teach children, but something about having high level discussions with college students makes teaching sound like fun. I miss being in school.”

“What’s the point of a graduate degree in film and media? It’s not like you can do anything with it.”

“A graduate degree could lead to a doctorate, and I could keep teaching. I know female professors are few and far between, especially in the world of film, but it is possible.”

“So, you want to be a career woman, is that what you’re saying?”

“Not exactly. Classes wouldn’t take up all my time. I’d still be able to cook and clean and do everything I’m doing now. Except now when I go to the library, I’ll be doing schoolwork instead of reading for leisure.”

“Seems like you have it all figured out already.”

“Well, I wanted to show you I had thought it all through, that I was serious. You got your graduate degree. If you hadn’t, we never would have met.”

“Exactly. What if some older professor comes on to you? You’d have no way to protect yourself.”

“Oh, Robert, I’ve gone this long without something horrible happening to me on a college campus, I think I’d be fine. Besides, all I’d need to do is show off the lovely rings on my finger.” She grinned. “No one would mess with a married woman whose husband can afford a diamond like this.”

“Did you already sign up for a course?”

“Of course not. I wanted to speak with you first.”

“Good.” He finished his breakfast. “Let me think on it.”

“Alright. Anything in particular you want for dinner tonight?”

“Actually, I was thinking we could go out tonight. I wanted to take you somewhere nice.”

“Oh? For what?”

“Does a husband need a reason to treat his wife to a romantic evening?”

“No.” She giggled. “I’m just excited at the prospect of a spontaneous date night. I’ll pick out a dress I haven’t worn in a while, so it feels like new.”

“I think that’s a great idea.” He stood and kissed the top of her head. “I’ll call you before I leave work, so you’ll know when to expect me.”

“Okay, have a good day, dear.”

Beverly was excited. A night out was a positive sign. Robert wouldn’t take her out just to give her bad news. He was going to say yes to her going back to school.

The restaurant Robert took Beverly to was ritzy. He danced with her, ordered an expensive bottle of wine, and kissed on her shoulder and neck while he sat next to her in their booth. That sickly sweet feeling Beverly thought might be gone was sparking again. When the cheesecake came out, they fed each other bites. It was adorable.

“Are you having a good time tonight?” He asked.

“Yes, this has been such a wonderful evening. Thank you for taking me here.”

“You’re welcome, Bev.” He put his hand over hers and gave it a squeeze. “I’ve been thinking about a lot of things lately, and our conversation this morning was the kick in the pants I needed, so I’m really glad you brought up graduate school.”

“I’m glad it was a positive conversation.” She smiled. “What’s been on your mind?”

“I think it’s time we started trying for a baby.” All of the color drained from Beverly’s face, but her smile never wavered. She couldn’t let on how disappointed she was. “You’re clearly bored with the amount of free time on your hands. I know school seemed like a fun thing to do to pass the time, but I think we’ve waited long enough. We’ll be married almost four years soon, I think we know what we’re doing in the bedroom by now. So, next week, I’m taking you to the doctor to have your diaphragm removed-“

“You called my doctor about something like that?”

“I know it’s a bit awkward, but it’s not a secret that you have one. I went with you when you got it, I should be with you when you have it taken out.”

“Robert…I don’t like that it feels like you’re not giving me a choice. What if I’m not ready?”

“It’s not that you don’t have a choice, I’m just stating that it’s time. You take care of me just fine, you’ll be a great mother. This is what I would rather you do than go back to school. Besides, think of the fun we’ll have while we’re working at it. I got excited at work today thinking about it. I was hoping tonight could be a test run.” He wiggled his eyebrows. “I love you so much, Bev, I wanna turn that love into a physical being.”

“Yeah, um, that makes perfect sense. Let’s…let’s make a baby.”

“Really?” He asked, elated.

“Yes, dear.”

Robert kissed his wife. He kissed her in the car. He kissed her on the way into their home, up the stairs, and into their bedroom. He made love to his wife, then called it a night.

After getting her diaphragm removed, they waited until after her next period was done to start trying. This gave Beverly plenty of time to figure out how she could avoid pregnancy. She needed to keep some semblance of control over her own body. Robert wasn’t going to tell her when she was ready. She could decide that on her own.

Lysol douching didn’t work, she knew this. Her sister told her as much. Some of her friends offered her their birth control pills, but she knew they’d show up on a blood test, which Robert made sure she had after the second month of her still not having gotten pregnant. Beverly may have studied film, but she was an excellent student in biology and chemistry as well. She knew how condoms worked. They were coated in spermicides. She just needed to figure out how to coat her vagina with it. She bought condoms and squeezed all of the lubricant and spermicide off them and got a good amount into a bottle. She mixed it with olive oil, what ancient Greeks used to use, and douched with that before having sex with Robert. She knew it would be a long shot if it worked, but she had to try.

When the third month came along, and she still wasn’t pregnant, she took solace is knowing her little concoction was working. And because Robert never went down on her, he’d never smell or taste a thing. When he used his fingers, he just thought she was extra wet, which made him feel proud of himself.

She was perfectly content with her plans until the topic of IVF came up. Even the harshest of solutions couldn’t stand up to IVF injections. She never felt bad for lying to Robert because she didn’t like that he had become so controlling, but she also didn’t think she’d be doing this for so long. The thought of her giving her body up didn’t sound any more appealing five months later.

What was she going to do?

**

“I really think that one is gonna be a winner.” Robert sighed happily as he relaxed into the bed, looking over at Beverly as she lay with her legs in the air. “I’m glad we waited a couple of days in between, feels like my boys swam stronger.”

“Yes, dear.” Beverly closed her eyes and tried to breathe steadily, counting down the minutes until she could go use the bathroom and cleanse herself.

“I had an idea today. I really want to spare you from having to be injected with needles. I’m a good husband, and good husbands protect their wives. So, since we have about five weeks until our next appointment, I thought we could try one last natural method.”

“I’m listening.” She turned her head to look at him, intrigued.

“I overheard some ladies talking in the break room this morning. It’s the one good thing about having so many female secretaries. Anyways, they happened to be discussing various issues with conceiving. One of them said they had a friend who got pregnant the second she and her husband stopped focusing so much on it. The wife threw herself into different projects, and a month or so later, she was pregnant.”

“Wait.” She sat up on her elbows. “Are you saying I can enroll in a graduate course after all?”

“What, no.” He laughed. “No, I was thinking we could finally redo the patio and have that pool you’ve wanted put in. You’ve been talking about wanting to host more parties for our friends. You always do so well with the workers when we have something done here, and you love gardening. I think you’d really enjoy overseeing a landscaping project.”

“Let me get this straight: you would rather pay thousands of dollars to have our backyard redone, than pay a couple of hundred for me to enroll in a course?”

“I think school would be too stressful. If you’re stressed, then you definitely won’t conceive. Overseeing a project that puts you outside in the sun will be a win-win. Not to mention an old friend of mine is willing to give us a deal on the work.”

“You have a friend that’s a landscaper?”

“Yeah, this guy from my old neighborhood took over his father’s business. He said he could swing by Saturday to take a look at things.”

“It sounds like you’ve already decided that this is what we’re doing.”

“That’s because I have.” He grinned proudly. “Bev, when we got married, I promised to take care of you. This is me taking care of you. Not all husbands would do something like this for their wives. You could at least pretend to be grateful.”

“I am grateful, I’m sorry if my tone suggested otherwise. What time Saturday is he coming over?”

“That I left up to you. I didn’t know if you had any errands or plans with the ladies.”

“Oh.” Well, at least he was trying to be considerate. “Maybe around three? That would give me time to pick up the dry cleaning and stop at the market.”

“Three is perfect. I’ll give him a call tomorrow to let him know.” He looked down at his watch. “You should be good to use the bathroom now.”

“Yes, dear.” Beverly lowers her legs and slings her robe on. Once she’s in the bathroom, she locks the door and flips on the fan. She rummages around in the back of the sink-cabinet until she finds her douching solution. She used some prior to having sex with her husband, but she likes to use it after for good measure. She bites into the heel of her palm as she cleanses herself. It tends to sting from time to time. When she’s done, she looks at herself in the mirror. She knows she can’t keep doing this to herself. She just doesn’t know what else to do.

**

Beverly loves her weekend clothes. There’s something so freeing about slipping on a pair of high-waist capris, a sleeveless button-up that ties in the front, and a pair of flats. She usually gardens after running her errands, and this is what she typically wears to garden. Robert hates it when Beverly wears pants, or anything form fitting, in public. Why should anyone else be privy to how round her bum is, or how full her thighs are? She’s got a body like Marilyn’s, and that’s something he prefers to keep under wraps.

When the landscaping van pulls up out front, Beverly is in the front yard, planting and mulching. She has the radio going, so she doesn’t pay any mind to the sound of an engine turning off. The man in the landscaping van tilted his sunglasses down the bridge of his nose, getting a better glimpse of Beverly. Robert starts walking over, so the man gets out of his van, rounding it to meet his old friend.

“Harry.” Robert smiled and shook the man’s, Harry, hand. “Can you believe it? Got a nice house in a suburb just like the one we grew up in.”

“I never doubted you’d get everything you wanted.” Harry smiled back.

“Seems like the Navy treated you well.”

“Yeah, I can’t complain too much. I didn’t get blown up or lose a limb.”

“And now you own your father’s business. Sorry for your loss, by the way. That’s the drawback of inheritance.”

“Yep. You working for your father?”

“Yes, and proud of it. I’ve got an office with a view, and I can afford to live more than comfortably. Got a beautiful wife, too.” Robert looked around. “Beverly, c’mere!” Beverly stood and dusted off her trousers before making her way over to the two men. “Harry, this is my Beverly.” He put his arm around his wife’s shoulders.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Clark.”

“Likewise, Mr…”

“Styles.” He points behind him with his thumb. “Of Styles Landscaping.”

“Right, of course.”

“Your husband told me you were hoping to have some work done in the backyard.”

“Yes, we’d like the patio redone and to have a pool put in, if possible.”

“Let’s show Harry to the back.” Robert said as he led his wife to the back. Harry followed close behind.

As Beverly observes Harry observing her yard, she can’t help but feel confused. How is this man a friend of Robert’s? Harry’s t-shirt is stretched tight over his chest, not to mention how beefy and muscular his biceps are. His arms are also littered with tattoos.

It takes about twenty minutes for Harry to look around, take some measurements, and get a feel for the land.

“Alright, I can come back on Tuesday with some different mockups of what can be done back here. I can bring my portfolio too, so you can look at some of my past projects. Does Tuesday work for you, Mrs. Clark? I’m assuming you’ll be the one home.”

“Yes, the early afternoon works for me, Mr. Styles.”

“Perfect.” Robert clapped his hands. “H, come in for a bit. We can have a couple beers and catch up while Bev does her gardening out front.”

“Sounds good to me.” Harry nodded, and Robert started to make his way inside. For a split second, Harry tilted his sunglasses down to look at Beverly. “It was nice meeting, Mrs. Clark.” He winked and smirked before catching up with Robert.

Beverly felt her cheeks heat up. She turned and watched Harry walk into her home. Why did he wink at her like that? And why did it make her feel like she just got a B-12 shot?

She shook it off and made her way out front. Gardening will help her clear her head. She’s a married woman. A friend of Robert’s wouldn’t flirt with a married woman…would he?

[th3-0bjectivist]

Chipper and Romi, A Love Story (and page update w/ Springin’ Chip)

Heya Tumblr folks, its page mascot Springin’ Chip here, and its autumn! And I’m in loooooove. Met a young woman. Her name is Romi. Young love is painful, folks. It’s supposed to teach you lessons that’ll help you adjust as an adult. And let me tell ya, there’s lots of pain in this relationship! So far, Romi and I enjoy playfully fighting in the park, late-night sleepovers, and deep talks about our future and the nature of the universe. It’s good to find something positive in 2024! I hope you had little specs of happiness this year as well. ANYWAYS, onto the brief page update.

So, folks, we’re going to be taking election week entirely off, maybe two weeks. When we get back, we’ll have three more songs to post and a few more paintings/drawings in 24’. Why take election week off you ask?? Well, primarily because partisan politics completely ruined Tumblr this year. It literally sucked all the fun out of everything and turned some usually normal people who we follow(ed) into shrieking, insufferable, irrational, pants-shitting dipshits. There’s nothing more useless than keyboard activism, and when we log in to Tumblr, we’re mostly looking for something that helps us mentally escape the harsh reality we’re living in. I mean, folks, as a dog, I really couldn't care less how you vote. What you do in the voting booth, just like in your bed, is none of my damn business. I followed your blog because I think you create exceptional art, or take excellent pictures, or generate excellent poetry, or make quality sounds, or because you have some hidden X factor, or because I think you’re a goddamned bona fide genius. I do NOT come to Tumblr for politics for several reasons, but mostly because… no one on here is a political expert and I’d rather not know how you vote at all. I’d rather you keep me guessing at how you vote and keep that to yourself. If for no other reason, because your politics matter to you, and I appreciate a bit of mystique.

Th3-0 wants me to tell you he early voted in North Carolina today. He said it was easy; he showed up early, he’d done his research beforehand, so he knew how he wanted to vote, it took like ten minutes. It was like, zip-zip-zip. The people at the voting site were friendly, the ballot process was streamlined. You don’t need to know how th3-0bjectivist votes. All you need to do is stop telling others how to vote and go out and vote. If you’re with friends or family that haven’t voted, tell them, “Okay c’mon! We’re all gonna go vote now!” Stop whining, stop whinging, and just go and vote folks. These last six months have been exhausting and demoralizing for the entire US. And if your side loses, learn how to lose with grace. Don’t let them see you sweat and think to yourself; what did my side do wrong to lose this election!?

Depending on the seismic reaction after the election, it could be up to two weeks until this blog is back up folks. Just please, grip fast to your mental health, hold your nose, and treat each other with respect. This year has been crazy enough. There’s no need to get crazier. th3-0bjectivist’s blog will be back for about two months and then after that we’re gonna take a LONGASS break from this platform to recover from the wretched, traumatizing, ass-ramming partisan shitstorm that was 24’.

Alt-links below in case you miss th3-0.

Stop bitchin' and just vote, Springin’ Chip

*****

The 0bjectivist on YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UC2sONH8IwzL_2sZie0ZNSnw/

I’m also on BitChute: https://www.bitchute.com/channel/uvKfJpNkzkIL/

FULL ART GALLERY on Instagram at: https://www.instagram.com/th3_0bjectivist_gallery/ <—- This just in, Instagram is for selfie-takers and living-my-best lifers! Delete your account early, just like early voting! We deleted our account this year, and we don't miss it!

FULL ART GALLERY on DeviantArt at: https://www.deviantart.com/th3-0bjectivist/gallery

[jordanstrophe]

Behave 10

Masterlist

CW: Forced medical treatment, hospital whump, doctor whumper, gagged and chained, blood drawing, lab whump, recovery, defiant whumpee

Chains held both their wrists like a short leash, tethering them from either side of the bed. Whumpee had spent the night trying to slip free, but all that did was put two long bruises from their forearm to their thumb. 

“What am I to do with you?” The doctor tsked, walking in while stretching a glove on. 

“St-.. Stay away...”

“Yesterday you bit me, and today you’re giving me more work then I’m paid for.” The doctor hissed. 

“I SAID STAY AWAY!” Whumpee cried, scampering higher until the chains came short. 

“Put a gag on it please, let's not repeat yesterday's mistakes.” 

“No-” Whumpee muttered, but regardless; one assistant grabbed their hair and jaw while another forced a gag in their mouth. 

“Just look at this, this is hardly the area of my expertise.” Whumper grabbed their elbow and yanked them forwards, running cold fingers up their bruised arm. "I would hate to fix you only for you to suffer from your own stupidity."

Whumpee kept trying to pull away, but each yank choked out a whimper of pain.

“Did you-... Did you do this all night!? What do you think we’ve been doing, torturing you for fun? I’m saving your life.” The doctor grumbled and let them snap their arm away.   

Whumpee gasped heavily, watching their every move with alert, but tired eyes. For what felt like hours, they tested. Taking every sample, poking them with what felt like every needle in existence. They wanted to fight, they wanted to shout, cry, scream. 

Maybe they should have slept last night instead of wasting all their energy.

“Well this has been enlightening.” The doctor said, snapping their glove off. Whumpee was practically doubled over exhausted and in pain. Their eyes were half open, it was work to just breathe in a half breath. 

The Doctor took whumpee’s chin and pulling their gag off. It felt like the first breath real they had ever taken. They weren't even going to try and fight, they just wanted to make a noise, but what came out was a half-bitten sob. 

“That was pathetic.” The Doctors eyes narrowed, letting go as whumpee fell back in bed. 

“-And also a sign of my last concern. My advice is to pull yourself together and get some rest. If not, you'll give us both problems. Do you want something that will help you sleep?” They asked, tilting their head. 

Whumpee slowly shook their head and held out their wrist with chains clanging together. The doctor sighed and fumbled in their pocket. 

“Ffffff-   Fine.  Only for tonight, for both our sakes. I don’t want to see you try and get up now, understand?” They conceded, unlocking each wrist as their hand fell limp at their side. The doctor clapped their hands together, washed some blood off their arms that made it past the glove and gathered the rest of the equipment. 

“Wait.” Whumpee snapped, grabbing the hem of their lab coat. They flinched when it looked like the Doctor was about to strike them, but recomposed themselves before they made contact. 

“... Is wh-... Is whumper still here?” Whumpee asked. 

The doctor sighed, returning whumpee’s arm to their bedside by a single finger. 

“Yes.” They stared. 

“Can I s-see them?” 

They looked at each other like they both had to sit on it for a moment. 

“...If it means you won’t scream all night?”

Whumpee quickly nodded their head as the Doctor huffed in defeat. 

“-... Then have whatever you want.”

@serialobsesssor @fishtale88  @bluesoulpeace  roblingoblin285   @echo-of-umbra @whump-bunny  @pretty-little-whump @akaijisatsu  @whatiswhump @shannon-foraker  @whumpkitty @suspicious-whumping-egg

[nightttdreamers]

Night Shift | Craig x Kenny

AAA chapter two is heeeere its mostly silly fun before we actually start the fake dating part hehe pls enjoy (and check it out on ao3 for better formatting pls)

AO3 Link | 4k words | Chapter 2/?

Craig and Kenny strike a deal.

Craig has never been a morning person, but recently, it feels like every force in the world is trying to keep him in bed.

There’s the brief, near blissful moment when he’s just woken up. He can barely hear his alarm, the sleep not quite shaken off yet, unaware of what the day brings. Then, inevitably, his first thought washes over him; Tweek dumped you.

Just knowing that this is going to weigh on him all day is exhausting to think about. He doesn’t waste time wondering what he did wrong or how to best avoid the other anymore. The exhaustion comes from knowing that Tweek’s absence is just something he has to deal with now, every damn day.

Before, the habit of trying to beat his boyfriend to the first ‘good morning’ text motivated him to get up. But lately, he always spends a few minutes letting his alarm ring out, trying to delay his day for as long as possible. But, then his phone begins to buzz to life, and he knows he can’t ignore the real world any more.

On this particular morning, the urge to pull the covers over his head is particularly strong. Not only did he work late last night, but the fact that he looked like an idiot in front of Kenny is also hanging over his head. Craig groans, recalling their bizarre interaction.

“You wanna be my boyfriend?” He had asked.

Kenny looked bewildered, a mixture of surprise and concern on his face. But, before Craig could even go back on his question, Kenny replied, “Like, for money?”

Unable to bear the look on the other’s face, Craig turned away, pulling out a pack of Kenny’s usual cigarettes. “No, that would be stupid,” he stammered out. “I’m being stupid, fuck. Here, I can-” He took the magazine that Kenny had been holding and scanned it along with the Camels. Finally, he looked back up at the blonde. “Anything else?”

Kenny’s brows knit together as he looked at Craig. His lips were pursed together, shifting around his face like he was trying to talk without opening his mouth. “No,” he said after some pause, drawing out the word. “That’s it.” Kenny slid a few bills across the counter, not looking away from Craig as he took his items.

Craig thought that if tried to speak again, he would say something even worse than what he already had, so he simply nodded.

Kenny headed towards the door, shooting Craig an awkward glance back just before he left. “Take care of yourself, man.”

Craig rolled over onto his stomach, pressing his face deep into the pillow in an effort to stop his brain from playing the memory over and over again. When that didn’t work, he turned his head to the side, grabbing his phone from the nightstand and finally turning off his alarm.

He squints as the screen lights up, serving as the only light source in his room. There are two notifications from Clyde, one sent around 2AM linking a YouTube video called “BAD DAY Better Watch This 😂 1 Hour Best Funny & Fails” and another sent 20 minutes ago, asking “Tolkien had to make up a test please pLEASE can u drive me today PLEASE?????”

Craig gives the message a thumbs down and ignores the typing bubble that immediately appears (he’ll end up driving Clyde, of course, he just wants to fuck with him first). His next notification is a Snapchat message from “kmck69,” a username he doesn’t recognize until he opens the message.

kmck69: were u being serious b4

kmck69: it is a rlly stupid idea 

kmck69: but also im down if ur down

Craig reads the messages, then reads them again just to make sure he’s not hallucinating. As an added measure, he checks the user’s last story and, sure enough, it’s a selfie of Kenny holding a beer, Cartman lurking in the background, with the caption “5 screenshots and i piss in cartmans drink.”

Once Kenny had left last night, Craig had spent the last hour of his shift overthinking every detail of their interaction. He didn’t even know where his bizarre idea had come from, it had just slipped from his mouth before it was fully-formed. Hearing that Tweek was out hanging around with some goth kid infuriated him beyond words or logic. The only coherent thought Craig could form about it was that something had to change. He didn’t want to keep rotting in his bed, head swimming with thoughts about his ex. He just wanted to do something.

Asking Kenny to pretend to be his boyfriend was just the first idea that came to mind.

He hadn’t expected the other to even justify him with a response beyond their uncomfortable conversation. But, apparently, Kenny was mulling it over until nearly 4 in the morning when he texted, which is far more thought than Craig put into it.

It’s a stupid idea. He knows it is, they both know it is. But, it’s something.

spacemancraig: Yeah I’m down

He stares at his screen for a moment, quickly feeling the prickle of anxiety in his chest. It’s useless to sit and wait for a response, so he puts his phone down and pulls himself out of bed. The second he actually rises from his mattress, his phone buzzes to life, and Craig almost drops the device in how quickly he grabs it.

(Clyde) Literally I’m already ready I won’t hold you up I’ll even buy you starbucks or whatever gay shit you like

(Clyde) PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE

(Clyde) I’m sorry for calling you gay and starbucks gay bro PLEASE don’t make me walk

He sighs, typing out a quick response before he puts the phone down for real.

(Craig) Fine

—-----

Kenny stumbles into Chemistry three minutes after the bell, handing their teacher a crumbled-up excuse note before shuffling to his seat. It’s not uncommon for him to be late, and normally Craig would pay it no mind. However, normally he’s not anxiously waiting for a Snapchat from the other. 

Craig can’t take his eyes off him, his notes trailing off as he drowns out the voice of their teacher. He’s not sure whether Kenny’s changed his mind and is brushing him off, or genuinely just oblivious of the holes Craig is staring into the back of his head. The blonde just rummages through his bag and pulls out a few sheets of paper, not even sparing Craig a glance back. 

Somehow, in every class he finds himself staring at the back of a blonde’s head. He wonders if he might be the problem.

At first, Kenny just chews on his eraser and passes notes to Kyle sitting beside him. But, after a few minutes of this, he turns and locks eyes with Craig. Before Craig can even try to communicate something quietly across the row separating them, Kenny turns away again, and Craig wants to throw his textbook at the other’s head. Before he can, though, he feels his phone buzz to life in his pocket.

kmck69: we have 2 talk abt it obv

kmck69: do u have work 2nite

Craig rolls his eyes as he reads the messages, unsure as to why Kenny needs to use the least amount of characters possible when he texts.

spacemancraig: No

kmck69: cool well i do

kmck69: im at the bijou from 4 to 12

kmck69: if u want free popcorn tho u can come after 10

kmck69: thats when concession closes so its kinda old but tbh still good

spacemancraig: Yeah I think I’ll pass on the stale popcorn

spacemancraig: But I’ll come by

kmck69: ur loss

kmck69: word tho

kmck69: also cute username lmao

Craig’s face scrunches up as he reads the text, glancing up to look at Kenny. The blonde looks back at him, flashing a smile, and Craig just flips him off in response.

kmck69: ooh rawr ur so scary and mean

kmck69: can u leave me alone im trying 2 learn >:(

He wants to retort that Kenny was the one who started it, but typing that feels incredibly childish. Instead, Craig rolls his eyes and tucks his phone away, looking back up at the lesson.

—------

There are a lot of points today when Craig’s wondered when his life took a wrong turn. Losing sleep over a conversation with someone he has never really given a shit about, feeling like shit the entire morning waiting on a message from the aforementioned someone, and now, he’s at South Park’s lamest and only movie theater at 10PM on a Thursday. 

Maybe it wasn’t just a wrong turn, maybe it’s an eighteen-year downward spiral and he’s just getting closer to rock bottom.

The Bijou is, of course, dead. Craig only goes when they randomly decide to screen something from the Criterion Collection. He and his friends used to hang around the place more often, but then Tolkien got a home theater and every movie started being available to stream, and they didn’t have to secretly spike their slushies in the Black household. Now, the only people that frequent The Bijou are the elderly and his 15 year old sister, for some reason.

He decided to wait until 10PM to go. Not because Kenny made the stale popcorn sound appetizing, but he figured the later he went, the less likely he was to run into someone he knew. He parks his car a few blocks down the street and walks to the theater, hands tucked in the pocket of his hoodie. The marquee has been defaced, as per usual, and just reads “PENIS” followed by the scrambled extra letters from whatever movie title it once said. How original.

The ticket booth is empty, and when he steps inside, the theater is just as deserted as he expected it to be. Craig isn’t exactly sure of his next move as he lingers by the entrance, looking around. Just walking into the theater without a ticket to look for Kenny feels wrong, but so does just standing around awkwardly. Before he can choose, though, someone speaks behind him.

“I’m sorry, sir. We’re not selling any more tickets to our last screening- Oh, Craig?” Chirps a voice from the concession stand. Craig turns, coming face-to-face with Butters. The other boy smiles at him, far too brightly considering the two of them are not friends. The most they’ve interacted in all of high school is the rare occasion that Craig visits the Bijou, in which he affords Butters a small head nod as a greeting if they meet eyes. 

“Hey, Butters,” Craig says. “Is Kenny around?”

Almost comically, Butters cocks his head to the side. “Kenny? I didn’t know you two were friends!”

An abrupt silence comes between them, and Craig just waits for Butters to tell him where his coworker is. However, the blue-eyed boy just looks at him with a quizzical expression on his face, and Craig realizes he’s waiting for a confirmation.

“Uh, sure,” Craig mumbles after a moment. “Friends. Friendly, I guess. So, where is he?”

Butters beams at his answer, starting to wipe the countertop he’s standing behind down as he responds. “That’s so nice. He needs friends who won’t get him into trouble, you know? And he was just talking about you the other day.”

“He was?” Craig asks, but before Butters can elaborate, the two are interrupted.

“Craig!” Shouts Kenny from across the theater. Clad in a button-down, black skinny jeans, a red vest and matching bow-tie, he looks starkly different than he did this morning. The almost formal outfit doesn’t look quite right on him, and Craig realizes he’s never seen Kenny in something that wasn’t two sizes too large. When the blonde arrives at the concession stand, he’s grinning, looking at Craig so excitedly that the dark-haired boy has to turn his face away.

“It’s me, don’t cream your jeans,” Craig says, earning a little snicker from Butters. 

“I’ll sure as hell try,” Kenny replies, not sounding nearly as sarcastic as Craig. “I was starting to think you were bailing. It’s late, man.” As he speaks, he lifts himself onto the concession counter and sits, dangling his legs.

Butters frowns, putting his hands on his hips (Craig didn’t know that people did that in real life, but it suits Butters’ cartoonish mannerisms). “Aw, Kenny. I was just wiping that down.”

Kenny rolls his eyes, swinging his legs around to the other side of the counter and hopping off. “Happy?” He asks his coworker, who lets out a little puff of air in response and returns to his cleaning. Kenny shoots Craig a funny look, and Craig feels like he’s missing something. “As you can see, Butters and I take a lot of pride in this establishment.”

“That sounds awfully insincere, Kenny,” Butters grumbles, mostly to himself. “I do take pride in this establishment.”

It’s pretty weird to watch Kenny and Butters interact like this. They’re both oddballs in their social circles, especially Butters, and he can’t help but feel a bit out-of-place talking to them, especially outside of school. Craig absent-mindedly slides his phone from his pocket, checking the screen, just out of habit.

“Got somewhere to be?” Kenny asks, and when Craig looks up, the other is staring right at him, of course. He’s holding one of the soft drink cups, filled to the brim with popcorn.

Craig tucks his phone away. “You were serious about the stale popcorn?”

“It’s just gonna get thrown out,” Kenny says, popping a few kernels in his mouth. “Did you want some?”

Craig narrows his eyes in suspicion, responding with an unsure hum. One time, in the 5th grade, he saw Kenny pick up an earthworm from the sidewalk and swallow it whole. He did it, of course, for five bucks from Clyde, but Craig still doesn’t trust his taste.

Kenny rolls his eyes, opening up the machine to fill another cup. “Don’t be a princess. It’s still good. Right, Butters?” Kenny asks as he slides past his coworker, crossing to Craig’s side of the counter. 

“Oh, I don’t like to eat the popcorn much,” Butters replies, attending to the machine once Kenny’s done with it. “I gotta smell it all day, then clean the machine, scrape all the burnt pieces. I used to think movie theater popcorn was one of the yummiest smells, but now it doesn’t really get my tummy rumbling.”

Talking to Butters is weird, Craig thinks. He’s not sure if he’s ever heard anyone else use the phrase ‘tummy rumbling’ in his life. He glances at Kenny, who seems entirely unphased by the other’s weird expressions. 

“Yeah, okay,” Kenny says with a small shrug. He hands one of the popcorn cups to Craig, who takes it reluctantly. “I don’t know why I asked him.”

“Not that this isn’t thrilling,” Craig says, turning fully to Kenny. Butters is pretty engaged with his cleaning, but Craig doesn’t need him hearing any part of this conversation, so he speaks low. “Can we talk now?”

Kenny lets out an amused puff of air. “Butters, I’m gonna go do theater checks” he says, not taking his eyes away from Craig. “Craig’s coming with me.”

“You better not just be sneakin’ him into the movie for free, Kenny,” Butters grumbles, but his coworker is already walking away, waving a hand dismissively. Craig spares Butters an awkward glance before following behind Kenny.

“You do that often?” Craig asks.

“What? Sneak people in?” Kenny replies. He shoots a look back at Butters, making sure he isn’t listening before he continues. “Not all the time. I’m not really into losing this job.”

Right, Craig thinks, Kenny actually needs this job. The thought makes him a bit uncomfortable, that Kenny has to put in the hours at a shitty movie theater to pay for things he actually needs. Meanwhile, Craig works so he can get out of the house and have some spending money.

Kenny glances behind them, then slides a vape out of his pocket and hits it. He turns his head to the side, courteous enough not to blow smoke right at Craig, though not enough to pick a less obnoxious flavor.

“Sorry,” Kenny says, noticing how Craig wrinkles his nose at the scent. “Butters doesn’t like it either, probably because it’d get us in trouble.”

“So you don’t care enough about this job to not vape?” Craig asks.

This time, Kenny blows the cloud right in his face. “Be nice to me, Tucker. I let your sister sneak in here all the time.”

Craig pauses, taking a second to process what Kenny just said. “You what?”

Kenny stops too, poking his head into the closest screening room as he speaks. “Yeah, she comes by a lot. Here, this one’s empty,” he steps into the theater, holding the door open so Craig can follow. It’s a bit odd-looking inside. It’s not often he sees empty theaters with the lights on, especially not clean ones. Kenny takes a seat in a nearby row, throwing his legs over the chairs as he munches on his popcorn. “Don’t worry, no one’s gonna hear us. I cleaned this one an hour ago, and I’ve only had to kick out people who stayed after a movie like, three times, so we’re good.”

Craig takes a seat a few spots away from Kenny, giving the other room to sprawl out. “Why did they stay?”

“Sometimes they just fall asleep. One time there was a couple fucking, though. That was pretty sweet. In that row over there,” Kenny points behind him, a smirk on his face.

Craig blinks and wonders what ever happened to the Kenny he went to elementary school with, the one who rarely spoke except for the occasional dirty joke. Focus, Craig.

“Uh, so about last night,” Craig begins, straightening up a bit in his seat. Kenny mirrors him, showing that he’s listening. “I was just talking without thinking. It is a really fucking dumb idea.”

“But you showed up to talk about it,” Kenny notes.

Craig sighs. “Yeah, I did. Because I’m really fucking dumb. And I’m sick of the sympathy from my dumb friends. And you said you’d be down.” Kenny just looks at him, and Craig finds himself talking just to avoid the awkward silence. “If you’re not anymore though, that’s fine. There’s no pressure or anything.”

“I’m still down,” Kenny says with a small nod. “As long as I’m paid for my time. God, I sound like a hooker.”

“You’re not a hooker,” Craig adds a bit too quickly. “We don’t need to actually do anything, I don’t think.”

“So what do I have to do?”

Craig doesn’t answer for a moment. Apparently, this tells Kenny all he needs to know.

“Oh, so you really didn’t think this through, huh?” Kenny makes an odd clicking sound with his tongue, shaking his head. Craig thinks he’s trying to be funny, but it’s not helping how embarrassing the conversation feels. “Okay, Craig. If you want Tweak to take you back, what do you think would really get him all pissed off and hot and jealous?”

“Hang on-” Craig sits up a bit, raising a hand as Kenny speaks. “I’m not trying to get him back.”

“You’re not?”

Craig opened his mouth, but words couldn’t quite seem to come out. Was he trying to get Tweek back? There were plenty of couples in South Park that broke up only to come back together. In fact, he’d stop getting hopeful when Bebe and Clyde would split, as it was inevitable they’d be sucking face again within a week. But, he’d never thought about that possibility for him and Tweek. They didn’t break up because of a fight or mistake or something stupid. Honestly, Craig still couldn’t quite pin why they had broken up. All he knew is that Tweek didn’t want to be with him anymore. The thought of trying to get his ex to change his mind and take him back hadn’t even occurred to him, and right now, it just sounded pathetic.

“Jeez, I didn’t know that would be such a tough question,” Kenny muses, bringing Craig out of his thoughts. “It’s fine if you want him back, man. I don’t judge.”

“I don’t” Craig says, maybe a bit too assertively as it makes Kenny lean a bit further away from him. “He doesn’t want to be together, whatever. I’m not gonna try to trick him into getting back with me. I just want people to know I’m cool about it.”

Kenny makes a little high-pitched hum, his face scrunching up. He takes another hit of his vape, looking thoughtful as he does so (as thoughtful as someone hitting a neon green cylinder can). “Okay,” he says, blowing out smoke. “We’ll make everyone think we fucked.”

“What the fuck- Kenny,” Craig stammers out, shaking his head as he speaks. “How would we even, who would fall for that? What’s that even gonna do?”

Kenny leans forward again, resting his arms on the arm of the chair and once again being too close to Craig’s personal space. “No, Craig, listen. This is one of my better ideas. If you immediately start dating some dude, everyone’s gonna think it’s a rebound and people know I’m not really the dating type. It’ll be weird, someone’s gonna see through it because I’m not not gonna hook up with someone else. But- if people think we just fucked, they’ll be like, ‘Wow Craig moved on and he doesn’t give a fuck and he’s so cool,’ which is your goal, right?”

Craig stares at Kenny, wide eyed, and Kenny stares right back. It’s impossible to focus on what the blonde is saying with that eager look in his eyes, like some kind of dog waiting for a treat. However, when Craig actually does start to process the idea, he realizes Kenny’s making some good points. Kenny raises his brows, still waiting for a reply. Craig lets out a sigh, looking up at the theater ceiling. “Fuck. That’s- Yeah, that’s a good plan.”

“I know!” Kenny starts drumming his fingers along the side of the seat, and Craig can tell he’s beaming without even looking at him. “I want sixty-five.”

Now, Craig looks back down at Kenny, who is making a face like that wasn’t a ridiculous thing to say. “Bucks? You want sixty-five dollars?”

“Cash,” Kenny adds. The two just stare at each other for a moment because every time Craig looks at Kenny, apparently Kenny’s already looking at him. 

“I’ll give you forty,” Craig offers, hoping his tone sounds firm enough to stop any further negotiation.”

“Deal,” Kenny finally leans back in his seat and Craig feels like he can actually breathe again. If they’re gonna do this, he needs to talk with Kenny about personal space. And maybe that god awful vape flavor too. Shit, they’re actually doing it. 

Craig nods before his brain fully catches up, like he’s convincing himself this is real life. “Okay, yeah. Deal. Wow.”

Kenny glances over at him. “You good? You can’t back out now. We said deal.”

Craig is still nodding, rubbing his palms on his thighs. “We’re good. I just didn’t really think you’d say yes. I don’t, uh, have much of a plan.”

Kenny puts his hand on Craig’s shoulder, giving it a little squeeze. “Don’t worry your pretty little head about it, dude. ‘Cause I already have a plan.”

“My head’s not-” he starts, then lets out a breath, pinching the bridge of his nose. “What’s the plan?”

Kenny stands, looking back down at Craig with a grin. “If there’s one thing I know, it’s how to get people talking about my sex life. And lucky for you, I have just the party to get this rumor started.” Kenny rubs his hand on a chair, then sticks it out for Craig. “You trust me, dude?”

Looking up at the blonde, the sheer dumb confidence on his face, his stupid uniform bowtie, there’s no way Craig should feel at ease. But, he has forty bucks and his reputation on the line, and Kenny might just be the best shot he has at escaping his current hellhole situation. Craig stands, gripping Kenny’s hand.

“Fuck it,” he says. “I trust you, let’s do this.”

[fangirlies]

Snow White (x.t)

Pairing: Xavier Thorpe x fem!reader

Summary: After Mrs. Thornhill assigned a class project, reader finds herself partnering with no one other than Xavier Thorpe

Warning: none I think? (If I should be aware of one, please let me know)

Word count: 1,814 words

You arrived to your final and favorite class of the day, botanical science with Mrs. Thornhill. Your happy place was surrounded by various greenery. Many kids at Nevermore didn't understand your 'gift,' and you couldn't really describe it any other way than nature spoke to you. It wasn't an all-day thing since you knew how to manage this gift. When you were outside, though, you were in your element. Rivers would sing to you, you would dance with the trees as they swayed to the sound of the breeze, and certain animals would approach you if you whistled for them. Nature was your best friend for as long as you could remember. It was a pretty unique and ethereal power that no one you knew possessed.

You found your usual seat in the front of Mrs. Thornhills class and began to take out your notebook, waiting for the arrival of the other students.

“Good afternoon class!” a huge smile plastered on the red headed teachers face. The cheerful greeting from the instructor went unanswered.

“I’m sorry, let’s try that one more time. Good afternoon class!” She repeated. A barely audible hum of ‘good afternoon Mrs. Thornhill’ came from her exhausted students. This was the last class of the day and all.

“Good enough, now let’s get straight to business” she walked around now standing in front of her desk becoming more visible to the class.

“We will be utilizing class time to work on a project, so today's lesson will be a bit shorter than usual."

 You overhear your classmates expressing a range of reactions.

‘Please don't say partner work, please don't say partner work’ you silently begged.

“You’re out of luck because its partner work” you hear the small cactus placed on Mrs. Thornhills desk say out loud.

"You will partner with a friend of your choice to write a research report on a plant or flower of your liking.”  the teacher continues, “This will be presented to the class, so please attempt to wow us with your knowledge." Mrs. Thornhill emphasizes the 'wow' by extending her hands wide and a smile that never seems to leave her face.

You didn't mind partner work in general, but you didn't have any friends in this class—except for the plants, of course—but you don't think Mrs. Thornhill meant teaming with those kinds of friends. You looked around as your classmates sprawled around the class sitting next to the people they’ve chosen. Everyone was taken except for Xavier Thorpe. You internally sighed, you'd never spoken to Xavier before. The two of you were from two very different worlds, he was into the arts; drawing, painting, occasionally dabbling in archery. And you? A naturalist, gardening and meditating in the woods was your definition of a “good time”. However, you knew you had to do whatever it takes to get a good grade on this project, so you gathered your materials and headed towards the artist.

“You have a partner yet?” As you waited for Xavier's response, you gave him a sweet smile. He looked up from his sketch book, which he hardly did, looked you from head to toe and gave you a silent ‘you can sit’ nod. Not a man of many words... this should be a fun project.

  “Alright class, I trust you have found someone you will be working closely with for the next few days. You’re free to go. If you have any questi-“ The class stood up disregarding what the teacher had left to say and spilled into the hallway, eager to finish classes for the day.

“So- um, I’m available all afternoon if you want to get this research paper started” you said, attempting to elicit a response from Xavier. He gathered his materials and stuffed them into his bookbag.

  “Of course you are” he sighed.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” the black dahlia flower spoke. “Is he insinuating that you have no life? How rude” chimed in the small key lime pie plant in the corner of the room.

You don’t know much about him other than he’s infamously known throughout the school as the ‘tortured artist’. And to be honest, you might know why he has such a rep.

"Are you coming?"  He was now waiting for you to follow him as he stood by the classroom entrance visibly annoyed. Zipping up your bookbag and grabbing your notebook leaving it to rest on your left arm, you hurriedly began to head towards him.

He moved through the school's hallways and made his way outside. You were doing your best to catch up to the tall, long-haired boy as you trailed not too far behind. He was much taller than you, therefore his steps were much larger. You didn't even realize how distant Nevermore had become because you were so preoccupied trying to keep up with Thorpe boy. ‘Where is he taking me? Is he planning to murder me and bury my body in the woods?’

The wind whispered in your ear, "Relax y/n, he has a shed right up ahead, you're fine." 

You were still unsure. Was he going to ignore you the entire time? He had to talk to you at some point, right?

Thorpe boy pulled a key from his back pocket and slipped it into the lock that kept the shed door shut. He observed your confused and anxious expression when he looked back at you. "Relax, it's only my private art studio. I cleared it out and fixed it up so Principal Weems said I can use it” Xavier reassured you. 

When he opened the shed door, you saw a collection of drawings plastered on the walls. Wow. His paintings were breathtaking. You knew he drew, but you had no idea how talented he actually was.

"Wow, these are amazing," you said, pointing to the sketches of the woods that surrounded the shed. You were so immersed in his creations that you failed to notice he was gathering materials to start working on Mrs. Thornhill's project.

“Thanks. Ya know—I don't think we've ever spoken before." In all honesty, you were taken aback that he was even sparking up any kind of conversation.

"Yeah, I suppose we haven’t," you say, chuckling to yourself as you unpack your notebook and pencil.

“So what’s your story? Are you a werewolf or somethin?” he asked as he sunk back into his chair, staring at you from head to toe...again. His gaze scanning your body sent shivers down your spine, and you could tell by the burning feeling in your cheeks that they were becoming a pale pink.

“Although becoming a gigantic dog sounds rather tempting,” You sarcastically say, “I can simply hear nature. Plants, animals, you name it”

His brows wrinkled, “Soo you’re telling me you’re Nevermore’s version of Snow White?” Laughing out loud by the end of his sentence.

“I’ll take that as a compliment, but yeah I guess” You never thought of it that way.

“That’s cool, It’s hard to be impressed in a school full of impressive abilities” 

“Ooo someone’s impressed” you hear coming from the small lizard whose sneaked its way through the small cracks of the art shed. Was he serious? You thought to yourself. You brushed it off and continued to take advantage that he was in a chatty mood. 

“How about you?" You inquired politely, already knowing of his abilities. He would occasionally flaunt it in class. Xavier extended his hand towards his woodland painting on a canvas. The artwork began to come to life. Trees swaying, clouds passing by, leaves shuffling due to the wind. It was the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen.

Xavier could tell you enjoyed it. He could tell how absorbed you were by it. He began to move the little sketch that was resting next to the painting that consisted of a meadow of flowers with a man-made swing linked to a giant willow tree. After just discovering your enthusiasm for nature, he thought it was fitting. As long as Xavier held his hand in place, the figure was swinging. He's looking at you now, smiling because he knows you can't take your attention off of it.

"You've been in my shed for less than twenty minutes and I've already left you speechless?" he said, breaking you out of your trance. 

"Xavier, I'm amazed, truly," you managed to get out while shaking your head in astonishment. He now had a grin on his face. You've never witnessed him like this before. Is Xavier Thorpe blushing? It was a strange sight, yet an adorable one.

"So- uh," Xavier cleared his throat, evidently shying away from the moment. "What plant were you thinking to write about?" Completely engulfed in this sweet moment you two shared you had forgotten the real reason you were here.

“I was thinking we could do the Calathea plant? We have a lot we can write about it and I also like that it symbolizes--” Xavier finishes your statement after interrupting your nerdy plant talk with "new beginnings."

A smile emerges at the corner of your mouth. Something about this moment seemed quite intimate. Looking into his jade-colored eyes, you could tell something had changed about him. He was no longer as guarded and reserved as he had been in Mrs. Thornhill's classroom. It was as though he felt at ease being with you in his art shed, surrounded by his artwork. You couldn’t help but think, was this foreshadowing a new beginning with Xavier?

“I like the way you think Snow White” nodding his head and beginning to write the name of the plant in his notebook. 

---------------------

After a few days of working on the project with your new friend Xavier, the two of you seemed inseparable. He'd walk you to class, eat lunch with you, and in return you'd spend some evenings with him in his art shed as he drew whatever occupied his mind. You never expected such polar opposite individuals to get along so well. It seemed as though the cliché "opposites attract" was true. Who knew?

You two sat next to one another in Mrs. Thornhill's class. You were thrilled to finally present to the class about the plant you had opted on writing about. Xavier looked at you from the corner of his eye. You were overjoyed. You looked like a child who had just won a new stuffed animal at a carnival and was taking it to school for show-and-tell. He couldn't help but smile. You were beautiful to him. How a simple discussion about a flower made you so happy.  Gosh you were so beautiful he thought.

"Perhaps partner work wasn't so horrible after all," the little cactus on Mrs. Thornhill's desk says aloud.

Smiling to yourself before meeting Xavier's gaze.

'Yeah, I guess partner work wasn't that horrible after all.'

——————————————

A.N: Readers giving Virgo sun & Capricorn rising vibes to me, hbu?

[kiwi2229]

Missing out

(James Potter / Regulus Black | 998 words)

For @jegulus-microfic prompt: champange

CW: anxiety

Regulus know he should be leaving now. He is already late. But he can’t make himself walk out of that door. He was excited to go a few hours ago. But right now, he can’t think of something more exhausting than going to a party and talking to people and acting like his skin isn’t burning with the consistent feeling that something is wrong. And the worst thing is, he has no idea why he feels like this. Because nothing happened and still his heart is bumping too loud in his chest.

He is dressed in an outfit he specifically bought for this occasion. It’s James’ birthday, of course, he has to look the best. He is wearing black jeans and an unbuttoned shirt showing his fit chest. He felt good in the outfit before. Now he hates it.

Dorcas comes in telling him they should go but he waves her off telling her they should go ahead, and that he will come later. “I’m not feeling well. Just tired. Tell James not to worry though.”

He sits down on the floor. He eyes the wrapped present he bought for James and the bottle of champagne. James isn’t big on champagne but it’s his eighteen birthday you should celebrate it with grace. He even painted the bottle with silly little paintings, so James could keep the bottle as a reminder.

Regulus is angry. So angry he wants to hit something. Angry at himself for not being to do the simplest thing and attended his boyfriends' birthday party. He feels tears prickling in his eyes because of how useless he is. He had everything planned out. He got the present, he got the bottle, he dressed up, and he had a speech prepared he wanted to say to James. To tell him how much he means to him and how happy he is to celebrate with him. How can he care about James and miss his party?

The anger is slowly replaced by sadness. He really wanted to go. But his anxiety decided to act today. Today of all days. And he is going to miss it. Again. He is always missing stuff. And he is sick of missing out over and over again.

But he already knows he won’t be able to go. Even the thought of entering the room full of people makes the unsettling knot in his stomach tighten more. So, he gives up on trying to persuade himself to go. He accepts the fact he failed again. He failed James. Himself. People will ask James where his boyfriend is, and James would have to explain that he is dating the most incompetent person ever. He sits on the ground for more than an hour still in his clothes. Every time the anxiety eases up, the guilt of failing brings it back up.

Regulus doesn’t know how much time passed when he hears the soft knock on the door and James slips into the room looking worried. “Reg?”

Regulus hates that he is here instead of his friends smiling. “I’m sorry, James.” He chokes out and hides his face in the palms of his hands.

James sits down in front of him and softly touches his arm. “What’s wrong, love?”

He looks up and can’t escape the kindness in James’ eyes that he is sure he doesn’t deserve. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I wanted to go, James. I swear I wanted to go. I have a present for you and… and the champagne and speech. Everything. I wanted to be there.”

“I see,” James says as he glances at a bottle with drawings on it with a smile. “What happened? Are you okay? Dorcas said you are not feeling well.”

“I…” He wants to say that he is okay. That he was just stealing and that they can get up and go to the party. But he would be lying. “My anxiety is really bad tonight and I…” He trails off.

James gives him a sad smile. A pitying smile, which Regulus hates. “I will make it up to you. I promise.” Regulus says because it’s all he can do now.

“No, no… Regulus it’s alright.” James says and tries to bring him into a hug. But Regulus doesn’t want him to. Well, he does. He wants nothing more than be in his arms. But he doesn’t deserve it.

“It’s not. You should be there having fun and not wasting time with me.”

James cups his face to urge him to look up at him. There is hurt in his eyes like Regulus just punched him. “Don’t say that. Don’t ever say that. I love being with you. I love you. So, don’t suggest I’m wasting time when the truth is I’m so lucky to be with you. I would spend all night sitting here on the floor if I get to be with you.”

Regulus finally lets his arms wrap around him. And it feels good. It always feels good. “I just hate missing out. It feels like all I’m doing is missing out. And I don’t know what to do with it.” He confesses.

“It will be alright, love. There will be other parties we will go to.” Regulus wants to disagree, but James doesn’t let him. “It’s more important you feel good, Reg. We will figure it out.”

“What if it never gets better? What if I will always be like this?”

“I think it will get better. But if not, we will figure that out, as well. I love you, no matter what, okay?”

Regulus wants to apologise again. But he knows James will not have it. That he won’t let him apologise for struggling. Instead, he decides to focus on this amazing boy. “Can I give you the present?”

And James laughs and the sound alone warms Regulus up. “Obviously. That’s why I came here after all. To collect my present.” Regulus shoves him and reaches out for the package.

[yellowhollyhock]

03 Leonard: And then I said, “Take a seat”

*All Leos laugh uproariously*

Rise Leon: That’s so good! Wait I got one I got one. Okay let me set up the situation. I’ve got a collar that shocks me when I make puns—

12 Leo, horrified: You’ve got a collar that shocks you when you make puns?

Rise Leon: Yeah yeah yeah, Donnie made it. So anyway there’s this pig mutant—

12 Leo: Donnie made it?!

Rise Leon: Are you—can I tell the story? Are you gonna let me tell the story?

IDW L for eLdest: Hey, don’t take it personally, Leon. It seems as if Leo may have just found the idea of your collar—somewhat shocking.

*All Leos laugh uproariously*

87 Leonardo: Come together turtles! We can’t let that fiend get away!!

03 Leonard: I want you to know that I appreciate your enthusiasm.

03: But it was just a raccoon, digging in trash is what they do—

12 Leo: Yeah, we have more important things to do!

12 Leo: Unless of course it was an evil raccoon—

03 Leonard: No

Rise Leon: I mean we can’t know for sure unless we follow him~

03 Leonard, confidence waning: No….

IDW L for eLdest: Leonard. Where are you going, Leonard. Do not give in to peer pressure. You’re better than this. LEONARD. Great. Now I’m gonna have to go too—

12 Leo: I know the special effects got way better in season 3, I just, I don’t know, there’s something so special about the theatrical nature of the first two seasons.

Rise Leon: The special effects are fine your protagonist just sucks.

12 Leo: Don’t ever insult Captain Ryan in front of me.

Rise Leon: *stands behind him* Captain Ryan sucks

87 Leonardo walks in five minutes later to find them both on the ground, exhausted.

87 Leonardo: Now boys, what did we say about fighting over cartoons?

12 Leo: *sigh* that our friendship is more important….

Rise Leon: *pouting* that people are allowed to like what they like. *smirk* Even if it’s lame.

87 Leonardo: Leon, don’t make me get Leonard

Rise Leon: Uuuggggh fine I’m sorry

12 Leo: Scared of Leonard, Leon?

Rise Leon: It’s just so hard to watch him when he’s lecturing, I’m not a sadist I don’t want to witness such anxiety

12 Leo: Yeah, true. Hey, that reminds me of my favorite Space Heroes episode!

Rise Leon:

Rise Leon: Okay. What is your favorite Space Heroes Episode?

12 Leo: 🤩 🚀 ~~👽 🔫 !!! 💞 💪 asdghjfk🪐

87 Leonardo: See Leon, isn’t it fun to watch our friend get so excited about something he loves?

Rise Leon: UUUuuuuuGggghhhHhhhh (reluctant agreement)

IDW L for eLdest: Stay down. It can only get worse from here.

12 Leo: I will never give up. Your overconfidence will be your downfall.

IDW L for eLdest: I have control over everything that matters to you! I’m trying to show you mercy! Stay. Down.

12 Leo, drawing his sword: Why don’t you make me

IDW L for eLdest drawing his sword: Why don’t you make me make you

03 Leonard: I think that’s enough Monopoly for today…

[separatist-apologist]

We Never Go Out Of Style

Could end in burning flames or paradise

Summary: When Gwyn breaks up with her boyfriend on the eve of Nesta's destination wedding, Nesta Archeron has only one objective: set Gwyn up with her high school crush.

Note: Based on this tweet from @heathermcwrites: "One of my bridesmaids just broke up with her bf who was supposed to come to my wedding & I was sad for her for about 3 seconds until I remembered that her crush will also be at the wedding (single) and I'm now more committed to this 2nd chance romance than to my own marriage."

"I should also note that this is a destination wedding so there are EVEN MORE opportunities for uh…shenanigans"

Read More: Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | AO3

Only insane people wanted to be up before dawn in paradise. Nesta, who was still working out, was among them. 

And Azriel, who seemed to have an insatiable libido. He kept her up all night with his hands and tongue and cock and then, when Gwyn was wrung out and exhausted, he woke her again before dawn like she was a substitute for his morning run. It had been fun at first, but when Gwyn felt him shift beside her in the bed, her body coiled like a spring. 

Some small part of her felt a little raw from his attention. If Jonathon was obsessed with cutting her down with his endless opinions, then Azriel was uninterested in what she said at all. His attention was always laser-focused on her body, on drawing pleasure and in return, receiving it.

And for Gwyn, who was grumpy at five forty-two in the morning, she wanted to know what else he liked about her. Azriel slid down her body, settling between her legs. Gwyn recoiled her foot, catching him against his cheek.

“Fuck,” he whispered in the dark.

“Go masturbate,” Gwyn ordered, twisting on her side. There was a beat of silence, and then the sound of the sheets rustling as he joined her back in the bed.

“Did I do something—” “I don’t want to hear another word before ten am, Az,” she told him, relaxing as he wrapped strong arms around her body. He buried his face in her hair, inhaling deeply.

“I wake up early,” he told her just as she’d begun to fall back asleep. 

“Not on vacation,” she mumbled.

“Especially then,” he replied, pressing a kiss to the back of her neck. Gwyn squirmed away before he could tempt her. 

“Well, go for a run, then. Nesta does yoga on the beach—you should join her.”

Azriel grumbled something undecipherable, but a moment later he was pulling away and padding for the bathroom, just as she’d suggested he do. She heard the water from the shower hit the tile and Azriel pulling open the glass door. She snuggled back into the bed, curling around his pillow to drink in his scent. She’d always been a night owl and never, in her life, had she ever been a morning person. 

Gwyn didn’t hear Azriel leave, already fast asleep. When she woke to bright sunlight filtering through the dark curtains pulled over the sliding glass door, she found Azriel wandering back in the room with a tall cup of what she hoped was coffee in his hand.

“It’s eleven thirty,” he told her, hazel eyes watching her warily.

“Good,” she replied, sitting up to take the offering from him. “Did you go to the beach with Nesta?”

He nodded, running a hand through his salt-sprayed hair. His brown skin seemed to glow and his nose was slightly pink from the sun. Gwyn took a sip of coffee, wincing from the bitter, stale taste. Still—it was better than nothing and she needed it if she was ever going to get out of bed.

“What's on the itinerary for today?”

“Nothing today,” he said, perching on the edge of the bed. His face betrayed his obvious relief. “But Nesta is talking about taking a hike.”

Gwyn groaned. “What is the point of a resort with a swim-up bar if we’re always leaving it?”

“I was asking myself that very thing this morning when you kicked me out of bed.”

“I’m not trying to fuck you in the pool,” she grumbled, unable to meet his eye. Azriel only grinned, running a hand through his dark hair.

“I wish you would.” She let him see her very theatrical eye roll before reaching for her phone. There were, blessedly, no texts from Jonathon that morning. Only the one from the day before when she’d posted that dim photo of her and Azriel at the club, specifically to rile him up.

Call me. Now.

Which of course she hadn’t. Gwyn wondered if finally, Jonathan had taken the hint. They were done and she was moving on. Had moved on, even. She could still feel Azriel’s cock from the night before when she stood. She didn’t want to hash anything out with Jonathon when there was the promise of more blazing in Azriel’s hazel eyes. 

He plopped in a chair, long legs stretched in front of him while she busied herself with getting ready. She was only a little disappointed when he didn’t follow her into the shower. She supposed it was only fair, given he’d likely stood under the punishing spray that very morning and fucked his own hand while she’d slept peacefully. Gwyn skipped pleasuring herself in favor of getting in and out so she had enough time to dry her hair without being rushed.

She was plaiting it when she stepped back into their shared bedroom. Azriel was scowling at the phone half hidden in his large hand. He hadn’t noticed she was parading about utterly naked and that irked her, too.

“Something bothering you?”

He glanced up at her, eyes sliding back to his phone before her presence fully registered. Azriel’s head snapped back up, eyes wide as he drank her in.

“Yes,” he said immediately, so predictable she could have set her watch to him. “Jesus, Gwyn, get in the bed.”

“I want to eat before Nesta drags us on a humid, ten-mile hike—”

“Did it sound like a request?” he growled, rising to his feet. Her stomach clenched at his tone, at the dark heat radiating from his gaze. 

“Az,” she murmured.

“I’ll make sure you get breakfast,” he promised, though Gwyn couldn’t be sure if he meant actual food or his cock. She didn’t move as he paced towards her, calloused hands banding about her waist.

“I want waffles,” she warned him, arms wrapped around his neck.

“All the damn waffles you want,” he agreed, angling his head for a kiss. And oh, had she really kicked him out of bed that morning? Caffeinated and showered, Gwyn couldn’t for the life of her remember why. That was his magic, she supposed. Azriel was more than a distraction, was far more fascinating than what was hanging between his legs, and yet sometimes Gwyn felt so dizzy from wanting him that all she thought about was his body pressed against her own.

There would be no bed. Gwyn knew that with utter certainty the minute he pressed her roughly into the wall. Good. This was how Gwyn liked it—if they’d gotten in the bed he’d have been far too tempted to take his time, to drag things out for as long as humanly possible and Gwyn was far too enamored with him to ask him to stop. She liked to give just as good as she got, besides. 

He hoisted her up, one large hand spanning the cheek of her bare ass while she raked her fingers through his thick hair. His mouth was sweet and tasted distinctly of champagne—Gwyn would have bet anything Nesta’s early morning yoga involved mimosas. 

With his tongue in her mouth, licking and stroking as he ground his lower body against her own. Gwyn gave in to the pleasure he was offering. They’d be back home before she knew it where jobs and other responsibilities would keep them from each other. Fully awake, and practically burning with arousal, Gwyn wanted to keep him just like this. Selfishly, she liked the secret of him, that what they had was only between them. 

She reached for his cock, already hard in his shorts, and rubbed with the heel of her hand. 

The front door clicked open with a whirring beep. Azriel dropped her to the ground, eyes wild.

“Hello?” he called, quickly adjusting himself in his shorts. Flip flops clacked over the tile.

“Hey Az,” called Cassian. Gwyn was naked. She and Azriel exchanged a glance before he pressed his hand over her mouth and leaned out of the door frame that extended from their bedroom into the living room.

“How did you get in here?” Azriel asked, his voice appropriately calm. Gwyn closed her eyes, trying to get a grip on her pounding heart.

“I have a key,” was Cassian’s response. “Now a bad time? Nes wants to take a hike and I’m trying to pregame a little before we get out there but I can’t find Rhys.”

Azriel shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “Not really.”

“C’mon. Do a shot with me.”

“You want to hike after doing shots?”

Gwyn pressed a kiss to Azriel’s palm. Tell him no, she hoped it said. Think with your dick, not your liver. It was an unfair choice, given what she knew about the man before her. Azriel loved to fuck almost as much as he loved to drink. Gwyn could see the war in his eyes before he shook his head no. Azriel’s cock won out, which meant she won out. She kissed him again. 

“I’m not getting drunk–and you shouldn’t either. No one will be able to carry your dehydrated ass back down the mountain.”

Cassian chuckled. “We’ll see. If you see Rhys, tell him I’m looking for him.”

It seemed too good to believe that Cassian would leave. Gwyn didn’t move until she heard the door to their room swing shut. Azriel swore softly. “Why the fuck does he have a key?” Azriel dropped his hand to walk to the door. While he pulled the latch, Gwyn arranged herself on the bed, drawing up one knee while parting the other so when he walked back in, he’d have an unparalleled view of her body.

“We need to get new keys,” Az said from the other room, his shoes slapping loudly against the tile. “If we leave—holy fucking Christ, Gwyneth.”

She blinked up at him innocently. “Leave?”

Azriel’s mouth had fallen open, his eyes so dark they might have been wholly black. The knot in his throat bobbed and then Azriel was pacing towards her. She squealed when his fingers dug rough against her skin, dragging her to the end of the bed. 

“Is this what you want?” he asked, thudding loudly to his knees. Gwyn pressed her toes to his throat, holding him back.

“I like you like this,” she admitted, drinking in the sight of him. Az’s skin gleamed in a shaft of golden light, casting his dark hair in hues of midnight blue. Some nights, after Az had thoroughly wrung her out, she’d trace the tattoos over his skin and ask him why he’d gotten each one. A few had interesting stories, though too often he chuckled and said, “Because I liked it.”

She was learning he made a lot of his decisions like that. On a whim, seemingly—based on a gut feeling and little more. Gwyn considered herself cautious. She was a planner, someone who thought her decisions through. In fact, the most spontaneous thing she’d ever done was kneeling between her legs, waiting for her to let him eat her out. 

“Pretty, pretty Gwyn,” Azriel's whispered, bringing her back. He kissed her inner thigh, gently removing her hold on his throat to spread her out beneath his large, rough hands. “This is why I can’t get anything done. In my head, I’m right back here.”

“Why are you still talking?”

A sultry smile spread over his face. “I fucking love when you’re mean.”

Gwyn lifted her hips in offer. “I love when you’re silent.”

Azriel grinned, so heartbreakingly lovely that Gwyn almost forgot what they were doing. Almost. Because when he lowered his head and finally put his mouth on her, Gwyn couldn’t remember anything but the decadent slide of his tongue and the push of one of his long fingers into her body. 

It didn’t take much convincing for Azriel to replace his mouth with the twitching cock between his legs. Gwyn, writhing against him, had begun tugging at his hair while whimpering, Az, please–and he knew exactly what that meant.

What she wanted.

“Is this what you need, baby?” he moaned, slotting himself against her soaking pussy. “Do you want me to fuck you?”

“Yes,” Gwyn pleaded, digging her nails into his shoulder. 

“Are you going to ask me nicely?” he replied, his voice far too breathless to be believable. Gwyn was all too happy to play along when the muscles in his back flexed beneath her open palm and his lips teased against her own.

“Please fuck me,” she whispered. 

Azriel thrust himself into her in one long, if not brutal stroke. Gwyn exhaled, stretched and full just as she liked to be. 

“This is what you want, isn’t it?” he whispered hotly against her neck.

“Yes,” she whined, rolling her hips to match his pace. 

“My good girl needs to be fucked hard, doesn’t she?”

Gwyn tightened around him. “Yes.”

And he was fucking her hard. Gwyn knew she’d feel every stroke the entire way up whatever mountain Nesta intended for them to hike up. It would be well worth it, she decided as she drew up her legs, wrapping them tight around Azriel’s rib cage. 

“Your pussy is so fucking tight,” he breathed, slipping a hand between them to rub at her clit. “Are you always so wet for me, baby?” Gwyn couldn’t respond, given she was currently screaming her orgasm into his shoulder. Azriel shuddered, his body jerking and his breath ragged. He was never going to be loud like she was, which somehow made it hotter. There were no theatrics, no pretending. Azriel did exactly what he wanted in order to get both her and himself off.

“How badly do you want waffles?” 

Gwyn smiled, holding him tight even as his hips began to settle. “Not that badly.”

Azriel exhaled. “Good. I’m not done with you yet.”

AZRIEL:

You don’t know her like I do.

Of everything Jonathon had texted to Azriel, that sentence was the one that stood out. Azriel kept coming back to those words, replaying them over and over in his mind until they’d become a mantra. 

You don’t know her like I do. 

Azriel hadn’t responded. Tagged in one dimly lit photo with Gwyn perched in his lap had been enough to bring Jonathon straight to his DMs. What kind of confidence did a man like that need to DM Azriel? His profile was nothing but shirtless thirst traps and expensive cars. They couldn’t have been more different. Azriel couldn’t write, wasn’t academic and had a sense of style, and on the flip side, Jonathan had the kind of hands that looked as if they’d never seen a hard day's work in his life. 

And stil fucking Jonathon, with his ugly haircut and his even uglier ties, had a point. He didn’t know Gwyn half as well as Jonathon, though he desperately wanted to. Every time he slowed himself down enough to have a conversation with her, he found himself between her legs.

“Something on your mind?” Rhys panted, catching up with Azriel trailing at the very back of the hiking group. Despite all the shots, Cassian was dominating the trail with Lucien Vanserra. The pair had set a brutal pace that competitive Nesta, Gwyn, and Emerie were trying desperately to match. Middling between them were Elain and Eris Vanserra, coated in a thick layer of sunscreen and debating the merits of some celebrity scandal Azriel had never heard of. Feyre and Mor were gossiping loudly about some bitch at work, leaving both Rhys and Az, lost in their own thoughts, to bring up the rear.

Azriel looked over at his best friend. If he was going to confide in anyone, it was always more likely to be Cassian…unless he was doing something he knew he shouldn’t. Rhys knew it, too. Azriel nodded his head towards Gwyn’s vanishing head of red hair.

“I had sex with Gwyn.”

“I knew it,” Rhys replied, earning an elbow to his gut.

“You didn’t know shit,” Azriel retorted hotly. 

Rhys wheezed, holding his side as he coughed. No one paid him any attention, which was lucky for him. The last thing he needed was word to spread. 

“Don’t tell Feyre.”

“I won’t,” Rhys managed, straightening himself out. “What’s the problem, then?”

“The problem is her bullshit ex,” Az grumbled, fishing his phone out of his pocket and pulling open the DM. He and Rhys stopped dead on the dirt path taking them up a brutally steep hill so

Rhys could read it and Azriel could wipe the sweat off his forehead with the hem of his shirt. 

By the time he was done, Rhys’s thumbs were flying over the keyboard. “Don’t–”

“Too late,” Rhys said smugly, handing back his phone. “What a fucking loser. You don’t know her like I do–who talks like that?”

“You when you’re drunk,” Azriel grumbled, shielding his screen to read Rhys’s response.

Sounds like you don’t know her either if she dumped you. Get fucked. 

Azriel couldn’t help his snort of laughter. Rhys sure did have a way about him. Middle finger in the air, always doing whatever he wanted regardless of who he pissed off. Azriel had always admired that quality. 

“Do you like her?” Rhys asked, cutting through the bullshit as they resumed walking. Azriel ran a hand through his hair. 

“Yeah,” he admitted. “A lot.”

“Then who gives a fuck what that guy thinks. Or Nesa,” he added wryly, as if Rhys wasn’t also angling for Nesta’s approval when it came to Feyre.”

“I’m trying not to overshadow her wedding you fuck,” Azriel retorted, calves aching from all the exertion of the day. He’d spend the morning fucking Gwyn within an inch of her life, utterly obsessed with the breathy little moans coming from her lips. Azriel wished he could bottle that sound and listen to them when she was too tired for his attention, if only to recapture a little of her magic. 

“Fair,” Rhys agreed with a casual shrug that told Azriel he absolutely would have wrecked Nesta’s wedding if it meant a chance at Feyre. A good friend would have asked Rhys how that was going but Azriel was a best friend, and Feyre was the kind of forever girl Rhys was willing to hinge his whole life on. If he wanted to talk about it, he would. Rhys had never been shy. 

The two lapsed into an easy silence, catching up with Feyre and Mor by virtue of their long legs. Rhys slung a sweaty arm around Feyre’s neck, taunting her with thinly veiled innuendo while Azriel and Mor exchanged awkward small talk, the pair chaperoning the increasing barbs traded between Rhys and Feyre with nervous glances. 

Rhys fell back when they reached the overlook, letting Feyre stalk forward with Mor. “This will be next year,” Rhys said with far too much-undeserved confidence. Azriel would have laughed had Rhys not seemed so determined. “We won’t be fucking hiking–”

“Watch your mouth,” Nesta snapped from a wooden railing, a smile plastered on her face as she took a selfie with Cassian. Azriel plodded forward to look at the sweeping view. He could begrudgingly admit it was a nice panoramic look of the island they were staying on. He didn’t think it was worth a day of hiking, and when Rhys offered to pay for a private boat, everyone moved a lot quicker back down the trail.

Azriel was grateful for Rhys and his ridiculous money. The boat was more like a yacht, and by the time they made their way, dripping with sweat, to the docks, it was waiting with cold water and even colder beer. Azriel chugged a bottle of water before he took the shot of tequila from Cassian’s hand.

“You regret doing that sober now, don’t you?” Cassian joked, walking to the side of the ship as they cruised out into the open, cerulean water.  

“A little,” Azriel agreed, bracing his forearms against the rail.

“You gonna tell me what you were doing?” Cassian questioned, back facing the water and beer in hand. “Or who you were doing?”

Azriel rolled his eyes. “Don’t do this.”

“Can’t believe you’d tell Rhys before me.”

“He has a big fucking mouth.”

“He’s just excited to see you moving on. Who was the last one–”

“Don’t say her name,” Azriel ordered, swiping Cassian’s beer to chug it. He didn’t want to think about his exes. 

“Fine. Gwyn is cool as fuck, Az. I’m not surprised you like her. I’m surprised she likes you—okay alright Jesus Christ I’m getting married in a week.”Azriel lowered his fist, pointing instead at his friend. Cassian didn’t have the decency to look ashamed or apologetic. “If you fuck up our wedding photos, Nesta will murder you.”

“Just…don’t tell Nesta, alright. Let Gwyn do it.”

“Oh Nesta knows,” Cassian scoffed, gesturing for another drink from Rhys. “You didn’t think it was weird you two got put together? Your room has been sitting empty all week. Nesta is using it as a bridal suite.”

Azriel blinked. “Your wife set me up?”

“Soon-to-be-wife,” Cassian clarified as Rhys brought them both new drinks. “And yeah. You and Gwyn are her little science experiment. I won’t tell her what’s going on but she’s gonna figure it out.”

“Great,” Azriel grumbled. “That’s not fucking obnoxious at all.”

Though, if he was honest, Nesta had done him a favor in a way. What if he’d gotten the room he was supposed to? Halfway across the resort from Gwyn, who was on her own? If they’d parted ways after the airplane, catching each other on occasion. Time would have made it awkward and Azriel would have filed her away with every other one night stand he never wanted to think about again.

“She means well,” Cassian was saying, but the conversation was morphing as Rhys began discussing the bachelor party and how they’d fuck Cassian up one last time before he became Mr. Nesta Archeron. 

But Azriel’s eyes had wandered to Gwyn in a bright blue two-piece hugging every inch of her skin obscenely. Her hair was unbound and hanging in thick waves down her back. He couldn’t take his eyes off her as she threw her head back to laugh at something Emerie had said. She was beautiful. 

The light bounced off her cheekbones, casting Gwyn in a golden glow that made her seem like a goddess. Azriel gripped the bottle of his drink, unable to drag his eyes off her. She didn’t notice him at all, staring like she was the sun, the moon, the very heavens the stars hung from. 

You don’t know her like I do.

Azriel swallowed.

Maybe he knew her as she was. Without the careful veneer she’d painted over herself so Jonathon would find her palatable, and without whatever mask she wore in her day to day life. Azriel knew Gwyn. 

Just Gwyn.

And he was starting to suspect he loved her. 

His Gwyn.