#it's not going to be long because i don't want it to ruin me

[vanesycho]

I’m not sure if this was a request you wanted so feel free not write it! telling nct dream you aren't wearing panties (reaction)

welcome to the nct dream reaction！[when they realized you weren't wearing underwear] | m.list | warning:nsfw content wc:1,5k

a/n:I hope you are all well, I don't think it's that good but honestly I'm proud of myself for even being able to write this lol.

enjoy reading！

Mark 마크 | You were sitting in a simple but warm restaurant and watching Mark with your small smile as he frowned at the menu. The fact that he was unaware of what was going to happen was making you even more excited. "Can't choose?" He looked up at you and smiled. "Yeah, what's on your mind baby?" You took a look at the menu and picked up your phone to send him a message. Trying to hide your smile, you went back to the menu. The moment Mark saw the message, he had a coughing fit and looked at you with confused eyes. "Are you kidding me?" You bit your lower lip. He didn't think you were serious until he dropped his fork on purpose and went under the table. "Fuck..." he mumbled under his breath and swallowed hard. He didn't know how long you had been like this and it made him even more nervous. "We're leaving." He took off his jacket and came over to you. "But we just came?" you asked innocently, he laughed angrily at how you acted like you didn't do anything and leaned into your ear "Tie that fucking jacket around your waist and walk to the car. I don't know who gave you the courage but I'll make sure you don't do it again."

Renjun 런쥔 | You knew that what you did would definitely piss him off, but you took the risk anyway. What made it worse was that Renjun's friends were there too. You were sitting next to each other on the couch listening to them, Renjun had covered you with his jacket because of the shortness of your skirt, but you knew that wouldn't stop you. You were about to stand up when his voice stopped you "Where are you going?" you turned to him and put on an innocent smile "I need to drink water." you stood up and he could see that you weren't wearing any underwear, even though there was a small gap in the back of your skirt. Renjun frowned and, ignoring the others, he walked behind you and grabbed your arm roughly, pulling you into the kitchen. He closed the door behind him and put you between him and the door "Do you think you're funny or are you testing my patience?" you pressed your lips together, you could definitely see that he was angry and seeing that you were amused by the situation made him laugh hysterically. “Ah..Of course you like it. You’re curious about showing your ass to the others huh?” he removed his hand from your arm and stepped back, you looked at him in disbelief, you needed him and he was doing the exact opposite. “Keep going then. I wonder if you’ll dare to get up again when all your wetness is soaking Jaemin’s seat.”

Jeno 제노 | You were so excited that you couldn’t sit still in the car you got in. Jeno occasionally glanced at you and laughed. “I didn’t know you were so eager to see my friends.” You didn’t really care, they had ruined everything by arranging a random meeting on the day you needed him the most and even though you told him you didn’t want him to go, you were here now. You were excited because there was only one thing left to change his mind. When he stopped in front of the house, you opened the door but as you were about to get up, he noticed your bare pussy under your skirt. Jeno grabbed your wrist and made you sit back in the seat. “Tell me you didn’t do this on purpose.” His voice tone made your skin crawl. “I told you not to go but you didn’t listen, I should have at least gotten your attention somehow.” he laughed angrily as he heard your answer and started the car again, you put on a smile on your face knowing you were going home and it didn’t take long for him to realize it “Oh yeah keep smiling, if you think I’m going to give you what you want after all that sluttiness you’ve done, you’re wrong. The redness that will make you cover your ass will make sure you don’t do it again.”

Haechan 해찬 | It didn’t take long for Haechan to realize this. He moved up your leg that he was caressing under the covers while having a movie night with the others and laughed to himself when he reached your bare pussy. You didn’t stop him, he knew you wouldn’t, if you were teasing him he would do it twice as much to you. Until you regretted it. You held back a moan as his finger slid easily into your already wet pussy, his eyes on the movie as if nothing had happened while his finger slowly caressed you. You approached him and tried to whisper in his ear between your rapid breaths “Please..We need to go to the bathroom, I don’t know how long I can last like this.” He looked at you, leaning in to your lips but not kissing them, slowly inserting his second finger inside you. "What? Aren't you having fun? You better think twice before teasing me from now on. Otherwise, I won't hesitate to show you what the outcome will be."

Jaemin 재민 | You were walking towards the cafe you were going to with Jaemin. Knowing that he had underwear in his jacket pocket, you took his arm and entered. "Baby, I have to go to the bathroom, you can order for me, right?" He nodded and got in line. You were washing your hands, waiting for his reaction. But looked up when you heard the door open behind you and caught Jaemin's eyes in the mirror. He slowly walked towards you with the underwear in his hand, stopped when he was behind you and brought his hand under your skirt and towards your pussy, realized you weren't bluffing and you weren't really wearing underwear, he licked his lips "So you want to play like this huh?" He led you to one of the empty toilets, before you had a chance to say anything, he grabbed your chin and made you look at him "Let's see if you can enjoy this game when everyone in the cafe hears your screams."

Chenle 천러 | He didn't know why you specifically wanted him to come for the shopping, but the last thing he wanted to do was upset you, so he was waiting for you while you were trying on your skirt in the cabin and was on his phone on the other side. After you put on your skirt, you took off your underwear and took one last breath before opening the door and walked out of the cabin to show him the skirt. He looked up from his phone and looked you up and down, you saw his frown and pursed your lips. "Don't you like it?" You tilted your head slightly to the side, his eyes fixated on your skirt. "No- you're so beautiful baby. I'm just not sure you'd be comfortable with that." He approached and grabbed the ends of your skirt, as he was about to gently pull it down, he saw your bare ass in the mirror inside the cabin through the open door. You turned around to look at where he was looking and met his angry gaze in the mirror. Then turned to him but soon found yourself inside the changing room, he walked in and locked the door. "Are you that keen on being a slut? If you enjoy annoying me so much, you better not beg me to stop after that." he continued as he unbuckled the belt of his pants. "Now on your knees. I'll make sure you never have the courage to do it again when I finish this without letting you have a single drop of pleasure."

Jisung 지성 | Innocent Jisung just wanted to take a nice photo of you by the beach. He smiled and held up the camera, waiting for you to change your pose, but the wind that came ruined everything. His expression changed when he looked at your skirt that was flying, and after checking if there was anyone around, he quickly came to you. His hand went to the front of your skirt and stopped it from flying, “Baby- did you forget to put on your underwear?” When he saw you laughing at him, he realized that you did it on purpose and shame washed over him, he took off his jacket and tied it around your waist. “Please don’t do that again, do you want me to lose my mind?” You placed your hands on his cheeks and kissed his lips. “I want you, Jisung…” your needy tone made him swallow hard. “Next time, instead of resorting to such methods, tell me that. One day, you’re going to drive me crazy and it won’t be good for you."

[reidsbabyhoney]

second chances | s.r.

the one where Spence regrets everything that’s happened in the past six months.

pairing: spencer reid x bau!reader category: angst, fluff cw: none wc: 3.3k a/n: this took forever too write because every time i tried writing it i absolutely hated how it came out. i’m hoping i gave them the ending they deserved and that you all love it! also please let me know if there's any warnings I should add.

pt.1 masterlist spencer reid masterlist

The entire car ride home was a blur, and you mean that literally. The tears that coated your eyes never seemed to stop even after you arrived back home. The dull hum of the engine couldn't seem to drown out the noise-deafening pounding in your chest.

You couldn't help but replay every moment from tonight on a loop, the gut wrenching realization that Spencer moved on so quickly, so easily. It felt as if your entire world had been tilted on its axis and you were left to live in a reality that didn't make any sense.

Maya. You hadn't been able to look at her without a sharp pang of jealousy making its way though your chest. The way she spoke to Spencer, so casually, so possessively like you were going to take her from him at any second. But in reality that's what she did to you.

You told yourself that you were fine, that you had enough time to move on and get over that relationship, but its clear you were lying to yourself. Every moment you were in his presence were the few moments of bliss where you could pretend everything with him was normal.

You had loved him. You still did. The harsh truth of that might've hurt worse than tonight's events.

Once you finally arrived home you didn't bother to go inside right away. Turning off the car you sit staring at the dashboard, trying to ground yourself in something, anything but the whirlwind of emotions going on in your mind right now.

As your about to open the door, your phone buzzes in the passenger seat. Picking it up you see it's a message from Penelope.

From: Penny

Are you okay, sweetheart? If you need anything I'm just a phone call away. Please don't let his stupidity ruin your night, we all know how much of an amazing person you are!

A small smile painted its way across your features, though drained and not very genuine.

You quickly texted her back letting her know you were okay and just needed some time to process everything. With that you finally got out of the car making your way inside, preparing for another sleepless night.

-

You had taken the day off. Well technically you didn't request it, it was given to you by Hotch. The team had just gotten back from a long gruesome case and he decided that everyone needed some time to decompress.

It had been a couple weeks since 'The Incident' as Emily has so kindly labeled it. Since then the unkind thoughts hadn't left your mind.

You spent most of the day curled up on the couch barely able to focus on the movies playing on the TV. Your mind was a storm of thoughts that blossomed from that night, though not into flowers, more so like weeds that didn't want to fully be pulled from the ground.

You replayed every word he said that night. Every glance, subtle expression. There was no warmth in his tone, nothing that suggested the gentle, awkward genius who had found solace in your presence.

You knew it hurt, but what hurt more was the realization that Spencer wasn't the only thing you lost that night. You were mourning the loss of what had been,  what could've been.

-

The next morning, you showed up at the office. The decision half-hearted, debating on requesting for another day out of the crowded space. You're not sure what you were expecting, for something to just change overnight, or if you needed to prove to yourself that you could handle it.

You walked in to see the team gathered around the bullpen. Derek was leaning against the counter, talking animatedly to JJ, while Penelope was chattering away in her usual high-energy manner. They all seemed fine, but you knew they could feel your emotions. You had always worn them on your sleeve, and the team was nothing if not perceptive.

And Spencer? He was nowhere to be found.

Your heart dropped, but you quickly masked the disappointment with a neutral expression. You couldn’t allow yourself to think about him right now, not with everything else going on.

As you slid into your chair, you could feel their eyes on you every now and then, but none of them dared to speak up. It was only when the elevator doors opened that you saw Spencer walking toward the bullpen. His usual awkward stride was missing, replaced by something… hesitant. His eyes briefly met yours, but instead of the usual spark of familiarity, there was something different. Something strained.

He was carrying a large coffee cup in his hand, but it seemed like he was just holding it for the sake of holding it.

“y/n,” he said softly, his voice laced with the same uncertainty that had been present in his eyes. You barely met his gaze, your stomach doing somersaults at the sight of him.

“Spence,” you said, offering a forced smile. You couldn’t help but feel a pang of longing, but you couldn’t let yourself show it.

“I, uh, can we talk?” he asked, his words tumbling out in that way that was so quintessentially Spencer.

Your gaze flickered around the room, but you didn’t want to make a scene. “Now’s not the best time.”

He nodded, but you could see the disappointment in his face. He hesitated for a moment before turning away and heading to his own desk. You didn’t watch him go, how could you?

-

Hours passed, and the tension between you and Spencer lingered like a heavy fog. Every now and then, you caught his eyes lingering on you when he thought you weren’t looking, but every time you met his gaze, he looked away.

You were exhausted. Your mind was scattered. And when you finally gathered the courage to step away from your desk to grab a coffee, it was then that Spencer decided to approach you.

“y/n,” he called out gently, his voice softer now, less urgent.

You paused mid-step, not sure how to respond. His presence was overwhelming, and even though you wanted to retreat, you knew you couldn’t keep avoiding him forever.

Turning around slowly, you nodded. “Spencer.”

“Can we talk?” he asked again, this time with more sincerity in his voice.

You studied him carefully, unsure whether you could trust yourself to keep calm. “Do we really need to? I think we’ve said everything we need to say.”

“No,” he replied, shaking his head. “I don’t think we have. At least not yet.” He paused, looking down at his feet. “Please.”

You could hear the desperation in his voice, and for the first time since that night, you allowed yourself to truly look at him. You didn’t know what had changed, but you knew it was something important. You had loved Spencer for so long, and maybe it was time to let him explain himself.

“Alright,” you finally said, your voice barely above a whisper. “Let’s talk.”

-

The conference room door clicked shut behind you, and for a brief moment, you felt like you were trapped. The silence was thick, oppressive. Spencer stood by the window, facing away from you, his shoulders tense, his hands hanging stiffly at his sides. He didn’t move, didn’t speak. The space between you felt impossibly wide, like an ocean stretching between two distant shores.

You wanted to scream. To demand answers. To ask why. But you couldn’t, because the truth was, you were too scared of what might come next. The flood of emotions coursing through you felt like too much to bear. And the pain? The pain was undying.

Finally, Spencer spoke, but his voice was soft, almost trembling. “I never meant to hurt you,” he said, his words breaking the stillness in the room, but they did little to ease the ache in your chest.

He turned slowly, his eyes dropping to the floor as if he couldn’t bear to look at you. “I’m so sorry. For the way I ended things... for pushing you away.”

His gaze finally met yours, but there was no spark there, no warmth. Just an empty, hollow ache, the same one you felt. The distance between you both was palpable.

“I thought I was doing the right thing,” he continued, his voice barely above a whisper. “I thought I was protecting you. I thought I was giving you space to breathe… to move on. To get away from the chaos that’s always been a part of my life.”

The words struck you like a punch to the gut. Protecting you? Was that what this was? Did he think he was being noble by choosing to shut you out?

“You pushed me away, Spencer,” you said, your voice trembling with the rawness of everything you were holding in. “I didn’t ask for space. I didn’t ask for you to shut me out. I was here… I've always been here.” The anger, the hurt, it all poured out of you, and you couldn’t stop it even if you tried. “I just needed you to be honest with me. To tell me the truth, not hide behind your fears.”

His face faltered at your words, and for a moment, he looked like he might crumble under the weight of your pain. “I was scared,” he admitted, his voice breaking as if he hadn’t even meant to say it. “I was scared that if I kept you close, I would ruin everything. That I’d hurt you more. I thought if I pulled away, you’d be better off without me. But all I’ve done is hurt you even more.”

The truth of his words hit you like a wave, but it didn’t bring relief. Instead, it left you feeling raw, exposed. How could he think that? How could he think leaving was the solution? You had been through so much together. But the thought of him choosing to walk away, of him choosing her, it crushed you.

“I don’t know if I can forgive you, Spencer,” you whispered, the tears you had been holding back threatening to spill over. Your heart was breaking, the weight of everything that had happened too much to carry anymore.

“You didn’t just break my heart… you broke me. I was waiting for you. I thought... I thought we could work through this. But you didn’t give me a chance. And now you’re asking me to just… what? To just forget?”

Spencer’s face crumpled as if your words were a physical blow, but he didn’t look away. He couldn’t. He was broken too, and for the first time, he looked vulnerable, scared even. “I don’t want you to forget,” he said, his voice shaking with emotion.

“I just want a chance. A chance to prove that I’m not that guy anymore. That I’m not the one who left you… that I’m the one who’s ready to fight for us.”

You shook your head, a sob escaping before you could stop it. “I don’t know if I can believe you anymore, Spencer. I don’t know if I can trust you after everything.”

He stepped forward, his hands trembling as they reached out toward you. “Please,” he whispered, desperation creeping into his voice. “I’ve spent every second of the last six months thinking about how much I screwed up, wishing I could go back and do things differently. I don’t want to lose you. I can’t lose you.”

Your breath caught in your throat, and you could feel your heart pounding in your chest, erratic, unsure whether it was breaking or yearning for something—anything that might bring you peace. You knew Spencer had made mistakes, but he wasn’t the only one at fault. You had kept yourself at a distance too, not because you wanted to, but because you were terrified of what this might mean. Of what letting him back in might cost you.

“I’m scared, Spencer,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “I’m scared that if I let you back in, you’ll leave again. That you’ll hurt me again.”

He closed the distance between you, standing just inches away now. You could see the unshed tears in his eyes, the way his face was etched with guilt and regret. He reached for your hand, but instead of pulling away, you let him. You let him hold you, as fragile as it felt, as broken as you both were in that moment.

“I won’t leave again,” he said softly, his voice thick with emotion. “I swear. I’ll fight for you. For us. I’ll fight for as long as it takes.”

The raw honesty in his voice, his words full of pain, of hope. It made something inside you snap. The walls you had built around your heart were crumbling, piece by piece. You didn’t know if you could ever go back to the way things were, but maybe, just maybe, there was a chance for something new. Something better.

“I’m not asking for things to be perfect,” Spencer continued, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand, the small touch making your pulse race. “I just need you to know that I’m here. And I’m not going anywhere.”

You met his gaze then, your eyes brimming with unshed tears, but this time they weren’t just born from hurt. There was something else there. Something like hope. “I’m not ready to forgive you yet, Spencer,” you said softly, your voice trembling. “But I’m willing to try. I’m willing to see where this goes. If you really mean it.”

His face softened, the tension easing just a fraction. “I do,” he whispered, his hand still gently holding yours. “I mean it. More than anything.”

And as he pulled you into his arms, you let yourself hold on, just for a moment. You weren’t sure where this would lead, or if you could ever truly forget the pain. But for the first time in a long while, you weren’t alone. And maybe that was enough.

-

It was one of those quiet mornings that felt like a small slice of heaven. The sun was just beginning to rise, casting a soft glow through the windows, and the only sound in the apartment was the rhythmic hum of the coffee maker.

The air was still cool from the night before, but the warmth of the morning sun slowly crept in, filling the room with a gentle golden light.

You were sitting at the kitchen table, your bare feet tucked under you, a mug of coffee warming your hands. Your hair was messy from sleep, but you didn’t mind.

You had gotten used to waking up next to Spencer every morning, and the sight of him, still half-asleep, a little rumpled, and incredibly endearing, was one of the small things you’d grown to cherish.

Spencer was at the counter, his glasses perched on the tip of his nose as he flipped through a pile of paperwork. The clutter of his case files and textbooks was a normal part of your life now, but the way he had rearranged things over the past few months, more neatly than ever before, was a quiet testament to how much he had changed. He wasn’t perfect, but he was working on it. He was trying, and that was all that mattered.

“Y/n?” Spencer’s voice broke the quiet, pulling your attention away from your thoughts.

You looked up from your coffee, meeting his soft brown eyes. He was still wearing his sleep-filled smile, the one that only appeared after a good night’s sleep, when he wasn’t overthinking or buried under a pile of cases.

“I was wondering… would you mind helping me with something later?” His voice was tentative, but there was something else there now, something more confident. He wasn’t afraid to ask for help anymore.

You’d noticed that shift in him over the past few months, the way he wasn’t afraid to lean on you, to let you in when before he would have kept his distance. It had taken time, but now, when he needed you, he knew how to reach for you without hesitation.

“Of course,” you said with a smile, your heart swelling at how far you’d come since that difficult conversation. “What do you need help with?”

Spencer hesitated for just a moment, glancing down at the paperwork. His fingers hovered over the pile, as though unsure how to ask. “I’m working on this case… and I just need to go over the details. I know you’ve got that… special way of seeing things,” he said with a playful grin, using the affectionate nickname you’d earned after countless cases where your instincts had been spot on. “You’re better at spotting the details than I am.”

You raised an eyebrow at him, playfully teasing. “Oh, so now I’m the expert, huh? I thought you were the genius here.”

Spencer’s smile widened, and he shook his head, walking over to the table and taking a seat across from you. He didn’t even try to hide the fondness in his gaze as he looked at you. “You are the expert,” he said softly. “And I’m just the guy who gets to learn from you every day.”

The words lingered between you, warm and comfortable. You reached across the table, brushing your fingers over his hand in a simple, affectionate gesture. A small smile played on your lips as you felt his fingers intertwine with yours, and for the first time, you didn’t feel like you had to hold anything back. There was no fear of losing each other, no worry that the cracks would reopen. Everything—every single piece of you—had found a place next to him, and for once, it felt right.

“I’ll help you,” you said softly, squeezing his hand. “Just like I always do.”

Spencer’s expression softened, his eyes reflecting a quiet sense of gratitude. You knew, deep down, that he wasn’t just thankful for your help with the case. He was thankful for everything—for your patience, for your trust, for the fact that despite all the mistakes and misunderstandings, you were still here. You had come through the storm together, stronger than before, and you could feel it in every touch, in every glance. There was an unspoken understanding between you now. A promise that no matter what came your way, you would face it as a team.

“You know,” Spencer said, his voice low, “I never thought I’d have something like this. Something so... real. So comfortable.”

You laughed softly, the sound light and free, a stark contrast to the uncertainty that had plagued your earlier months together. “I think we’ve finally figured out how to make it work,” you said, your voice steady and full of warmth. “No more pushing each other away. No more running. Just… us.”

Spencer nodded, his gaze softening as his thumb gently traced the back of your hand. “I’m not running anymore,” he whispered, the sincerity in his voice bringing a warmth to your chest. “I’m staying. For good.”

There was no need for more words. You leaned across the table, your lips brushing his in a kiss that was slow and full of meaning. It wasn’t a kiss filled with urgency or desperation, but one of quiet comfort. One of trust and affection. One that said we’re here, and that was enough.

As you pulled away, you saw the same sense of contentment reflected in his eyes, a peacefulness that had taken months to build but was finally here. You didn’t need anything else, because with Spencer, you had everything you’d ever wanted.

The coffee and case files were long forgotten as the two of you sat there, simply enjoying each other’s company. There was no rush to get to the day, no lingering doubt or fear. Just the warmth of his presence beside you, and the certainty that no matter what the future held, you’d face it together.

all notes and reposts are appreciated!! loving you always xx

divider: @fairytopea

tags: @floralemi12 @laviatia-blog @reggieswriter @hazzarules @spencerreidsglasses @notarobotipromise @gghostwriter @taygrls @powerline-valley @october-baby25 @forevermorepassionate

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[iamthemain-character]

Are Your Ears Burning? 18+ only - Minors DNI

astarion x fem!reader

CW: smut, masturbation, unprotected sex, oral (fem receiving), astarion being a brat

A/N: If you know me irl, no you don't (lovingly)- otherwise, welcome to my first smut fic (i need to be put down like a dog). Also shout out to S.H. for being an editor and proofreader, cause my asexual ass don't know shit <3 can't wait to live in the asylum with you when our delusions take over our brains

bg3 masterlist

You couldn’t fucking take it anymore. 

Life out on the open road was exhausting, and often far dirtier than you’d like, and most days you just wanted to collapse into your bedroll once the night sky blanketed the camp. Although, when the travel was not so long and the days were a little bit calmer, your mind would finally be able to think of other things than sheer survival. But that was where the real battle lay, and you had no defenses against your opponent. 

The most beautiful bastard to ever walk the earth, otherwise known as Astarion.

It was truly horrible. The elf vampire’s mere existence was enough to send your body fluttering. The way he would lounge by the fire, feet reaching for the warm, head tilted to face the heavens. Or when he would put on his armor, dexterous fingers flexing as he tightened leather straps. It didn’t help that Astarion was an outrageous flirt, who knew exactly how to lower his eyes just so, or how to change his voice to a vocal caress. Sometimes you wondered if he could possibly read your mind, if he was amused by how utterly pathetic you became the moment he said your name. 

Perhaps it would have been easier if he could, because then you wouldn’t be caught in the dilemma you found yourself in. You know of Astarion’s background, knew that he was trying to undo two centuries worth of pain and hurt. And for that reason you didn’t dare speak your desires to him, not willing to chance the fact that you might ruin what little healing he had found. 

At the end of the day, however, you still were just a woman. And it was in the twilight of a long day that you retired to your tent, hot and flustered from so much more than the campfire. Your core ached, desperate to find some sort of release for the sheer amount of arousal it was constantly put through. But of course, when you thought of pleasure, it was the face of Astarion that came to mind. But that was not a path you were willing to go down. 

Tentatively, you moved to lay on your bedroll; even though you were completely alone, and well within your own right, you felt embarrassed as you took off your shoes, your pants soon cast aside as well. You lay back, taking a deep breath as you attempted to clear your mind, to relax and enjoy yourself. You began as you always did, fingers trailing over your opening, touching the spots that you knew would make you feel good. 

Except when the first wave of pleasure hit, all your mind could think of was Astarion. His pale face, with those alluring ruby eyes filled your mind, and you found your lips longing to utter his name. It shocked you for a moment, but you couldn’t help but note the way the thought of him had made the experience more enjoyable. 

You struggled within yourself, questioning the morality of thinking of Astarion for your own pleasure. You had no right to him, and aside from his flirtatious nature, you weren’t even sure he wanted you in that way. So you resolved to push any thoughts of your white-haired companion away, resorting to sheer pleasure to satisfy yourself. 

You went for where the aching was in your core, fingers pushing through your own soft folds, gathering the slickness that had already collected in just the few moments. You carefully pushed into yourself, breath catching as you maneuvered through the first ring of muscle. Slowly, you pumped your fingers in and out, taking care to brush against your sensitive inner wall. To your dismay, however, the feeling of your fingers within yourself didn’t bring you nearly as much pleasure as you had hoped. Your mind betrayed you, focused on how it was woefully your own hand and not a certain vampire spawn companion’s. 

You slipped in another finger in an attempt to help fill you up, and your mind drifted to Astarion. What would it feel like if it had been his cock inside of you instead, pushing up against your center. Would he be thick, stretching you out around him? Or would he be long, needing to encourage you to keep taking him in. Your fingers picked up their pace, desperation starting to take root as your longing for the real thing increased. 

With a jolt, you caught your ruminating thoughts, heat burning through your face rather than your core as shame coiled in your stomach. Frustrated, you removed your own hand, a little miffed at how difficult your hopeless crush on the elf had made your life. You took a deep breath, moving onto a different tactic; if you couldn’t control your thoughts, you wouldn’t think at all. Your clit had already swelled a little from the arousal, and as you brushed your fingers over the bump, it produced a satisfying thrill up through your body. 

You began working the bud with your fingers, a soft sound escaping you as you felt your pleasure increase in your body, responding to the stimulation. You allowed your mind to grow hazy with the sensations, little prickles of pleasure running through your hips and legs, giving your body the experience it had been craving. 

You pressed on your clit more firmly, touching yourself with more intensity as your body grew hotter and hotter. Little noises escaped with your uneven breathing, the pleasure unable to be constrained to your body and escaping into the air. You had to be careful, your tent was in a circle of your companions’ after all, but your need overruled any real sense of propriety. You continued to vocalize your pleasure, whispered “pleases” mixing in with the quiet noises that escaped you the more you felt pleasured. You could almost hear Astarion’s voice in your ear, murmuring words of encouragement, of praise, enticing you closer and closer to your climax. 

“Astarion…” You groaned, unable to resist the way it so easily came to your lips. 

Little did you know that just outside your tent, crouched beside the very wall of tarp that you were next to, the man himself sat, pointed ears listening intently to your sounds. Astarion had no intentions of listening into your private moment as he had walked past your tent, but the moment he had heard his own name moaned out, your voice so sinfully needy, he had rooted himself to the spot. It didn’t take him long to deduce what was happening, the scent of your arousal, damp and slick on your hot skin, told him all he needed to know. So he sat there, listening intently, his own hunger growing, tightening the leather of his trousers. 

Your breath came out in little pants as you felt the coil burn hot in your lower abdomen, ready to spring at any given moment. How you longed for Astarion’s actual touch, for him to help you along; instead, however, you contented yourself with a final swirl of your forefinger, and the coil snapped. Warmth swelled in the center of your body, and your body sank into the thin bedroll, satisfaction easing the tension that had plagued you for so long. You pulled your hand away from your body, letting it fall beside your trembling thighs. As soon as the initial high was over, however, guilt poisoning the ecstasy, leaving a bitter taste in your mouth. No matter how hard you had tried, you couldn’t get the beautiful elven man out of your head, the stupid bastard. 

“You did so well, darling. So good, coming for me just like that.” You could almost imagine his voice purring to you. 

Except you didn’t imagine it. 

Your eyes fly open, and standing at the end of your bed was Astarion himself, a beautifully wicked smirk curled across his lips. His ruby eyes gleamed with gratification, looking as pleased as can be as his gaze drank in the sight of your dripping folds. 

With a start, you broke from your blissful haze, scrambling to cover yourself; Astarion, however, had other plans, pouncing on you immediately, grasping your wrists and pinning them to your sides. “No no, darling, don’t get shy now.” He clicked his tongue, clearly enjoying your flustered state. “You don’t get to act coy, not when you called out my name. This is mine to enjoy, and you’re not taking it from me.” 

Astarion punctuated his words by bringing your messy fingers to his lips, taking them into his mouth, tongue swirling around them as he tasted you. He groaned, eyes closing for a moment as he savored your flavor. “So sweet, darling…I simply must have more.” 

Your mind was still caught in shock, lost for words as he shifted down your body, hands caressing from your wrists, following the path of your arms as he trailed further and further downward. He knelt into his position of worship, finding the altar between your thighs, more than ready to taste the wine of your body. Despite how needy he felt, he wanted to savor this moment, the way he finally had your truest feelings laid bare before him. 

“Were you truly so desperate for me, love?” He purred, rubbing his nose against your soft inner thigh. “Our perfect little hero of the realm, fucking herself on her fingers, crying out my name. How perfectly filthy.”

“I...I just needed-”You feel beyond embarrassed, being caught in such a personal moment, but even more so being caught by the very man you were using to get off. 

Astarion, however, was the furthest thing from displeased, chuckling as he pushed on your legs, sighing happily as his face was smooshed between your plush thighs. “I know what you needed, pet. You could have just asked, you know; I would have been more than happy to oblige.” 

You inhale a sharp breath, pulling your lower lip between your teeth as you hesitate, a flicker of concern tightening around your heart. “I don’t ever want to put you in that position again…”

Astarion faltered, his heart melting a little as he realized what you were insinuating. He moved back up to hover above you, the cool leather of his pants stretched over his knees as they pushed up against your thighs, effectively keeping your legs wide open for him. He gently stroked your waist–better than the way you had imagined–his slightly dry fingertips soft as he mapped out the curve of your form. 

“You could never.” He says, his creamy voice quiet as he spoke, the most earnest you had ever seen him. His eyes matched the color you felt in your heart, heated and passionate. “You are nothing like him, or any of them. You…” He leaned in, and he pressed his lips to yours. His whole body leaned into you, craving the warmth he could feel radiating off. “You have proven time and time again that you see me as more than a body.” Astarion whispered against your lips, his own still brushing them. “You have given me a place to call home, to not constantly have to protect myself. And now that I’m not just trying to survive…” He moved his lips to your neck, biting gently. “I find myself wanting.”

His meaning was clear in his words, sending tingles up your body from how much more it excited you. “You have to know now just how much I feel about you..how I adore you.” You reach up a slightly shaky hand, cupping his sharp jawline into your palm. He leans into it, hands tightening into a possessive grip on your waist, as if he couldn’t bear the thought of you leaving. 

“It cannot possibly match just how much I adore you.” He murmurs, pressing a kiss into your palm. His eyes flit open again, glancing at yours. “And I would like to show you, if you’ll let me.” 

Your breath catches as your heart skips, heat curling in your stomach again. Unable to trust your voice you give him a silent nod, the need evident in your gaze. 

Astarion presses one last kiss to your lips before he returns to his irreverent worshiping, his slender hands wrapping around your thighs, nails pressing into your skin as if to mark you as his. He brings his face the slit between your folds, and he inhales deeply, a satisfactory sigh leaving him. You clench around nothing, his warm breath scattering across your damp skin making your body tingle with arousal. 

“Look at her, already so beautiful and ready for me.” He murmurs, pressing his pointed nose into the little crevice above your clit. He darts his tongue out, flicking the swollen bud, smiling as he feels the twitch of your body in reply. “But look at her, poor thing…she deserves tact, and true pleasure, not just a brutish push to an orgasm. Never fear, my love..” He pauses, pressing a kiss to your pelvis, “I am here to take care of you as you deserve.” 

Astarion rolls out his tongue, pressing it flat against the opening between your softness, and he drags it upwards. He hums with delight, just the hint of your essence making him greedy for more. He pushes through the soft flesh, dragging his tongue expertly up and down, lapping up the mixture of arousal and release that remains. 

You can’t help the soft noises that escape you, no words being able to describe how you’re feeling, the sensations too strong to remain within you, finding their release through your vocal cords. This only spurs Astarion forward, however, who continues swiping his tongue through your vulva, unabashedly hungry in his consumption of you. The only breaks you receive are when he occasionally pauses to tell you how perfect you are, or how good you taste, or how much he adores you. The moment the elf finishes vocalizing his sentiments, however, he returns to your body, working his tongue over and over again. 

You find yourself wishing you could have had this first, Astarion’s actions surprisingly better than your own, as if he was simply meant to know your body in this way. Had you not been so entirely consumed with the sensations his mouth were bringing you, you might have had the notion to be irritated, but instead you only found yourself delighted by his uncanny ability to find the places that pleasured you the most. 

While Astarion could have happily just kept dragging his tongue over you like a man dying of thirst, he wanted to continue focusing on your pleasure. It delighted him, being able to give pleasure because of his affections he felt, with no ulterior motives, and he was determined to enjoy it to the fullest. His shifts a little, easing his tongue into your opening, his body jolting as he feels you gasp and tighten on the muscle. Teasingly, he moves his tongue, easing you open again, sliding it as far as he can get. He presses his face as far into you as he can, taking full advantage of vampires’ lack of needing air. He presses his nose against your sensitive clit, rubbing it slowly, building up a rhythm with his tongue as he moves it  in tandem with his teasing nose. 

He feels a surge of satisfaction as you moan, grinding your body against his face, letting him delve deeper into your soaking cunt as he gets more and more drunk on your taste. He can feel you getting close from all the stimulation, the way his hands have to keep you from closing your thighs around his head–not that he’d mind going that way, but he has other plans for you. 

“You’re doing so well for me, my love….taste so sweet, being so filthy on my tongue.” He murmurs, rubbing his nose against your throbbing clit, and you nearly lose it from hope the vibrations rumble through your flesh. “You’ll be a good girl for me and come, won’t you? Let me taste my saccharine reward.” 

“Astarion, I…” You’re not really sure what you’re trying to say, thoughts increasingly difficult to form with every flick of his tongue against your tense inner muscles.

“I’m here, my darling…my beautiful woman…” He presses a kiss with his lips to your labias, a sweet gesture compared to his demanding tongue and insistent nose. “Let yourself go. Baptize me in your glory, please.” 

He’s begging you. Tongue pushed deep into your core, pointed nose steadily pressing into your bud, Asatrion is begging you to come on his face, and you don’t have the strength– nor the desire– to deny him. 

“Astarion!” You moan out, hips bucking against his face as the tension snaps, your body going slack against him as warmth courses through your muscles. 

Astarion feels a surge of delight and satisfaction as he feels his face dampen, and he forgets any rhythm with his tongue as it greedily laps at you, as if he needs every last drop of your release to survive. You can barely make out his murmurs, only catching your name and words of praise here and there. You whimper as he licks at you, the sensation bordering on overstimulation for your pleasured body, but you can’t deny the ache feels good. 

Finally, Astarion’s face pulls away from your warmth, and he presses one last soft kiss to your swollen clit, inhaling deeply to take in your scent once more. He sits up, reaching a hand out to brush back the hair sticking to your forehead. 

“You alright darling?” He asls warmly, smiling down at your flushed and dazed face. 

You nod, taking a deep breath as you try to collect yourself. “I’m…I”m wonderful…perfect actually..” You glance over him, and feel your stomach flip as you see the obvious bulge in his pants. “Astarion, you-” 

He waves you off, pressing a kiss to your stomach. “Do not push yourself, dearest. I wouldn’t want to break your pretty little body on our first night together.” 

“I want you to break me.” You blurt out, heat rushing to your ears as you drop your gaze. As if you weren’t already a trembling and aching mess from the most thorough and pleasurable eating out you’d ever received. Yet somehow, with Astarion, it was never enough. “Please.” 

For a moment, Astarion just gazed down at you, his wine-colored eyes deep in thought as he seemed to consider you. Finally, he smiled, and he reached down, untucking his shirt. “You are so perfect, darling, you know that?” 

Even after all that you’ve experienced, your body burns with arousal again as you watch him remove his shirt, tossing it aside without a care. For a moment, you feel you might faint when he tells you you can touch him, but you manage to stay conscious. Your trembling hands caress over his smooth chest, feeling the cool, pale skin, and the lean muscles that it encases. Astarion shivers at your touch, adoring how he simultaneously feels both adored and wanted. 

He unlaces his trousers, disposing of those and his underwear, watching your expression carefully.

The heat in your center doubles, and you already ache for friction, for him as you gaze at his body. His cock is long, erected upwards as he takes in the mess he’s already made. Veins curve around the shaft, dark against his taut, pale skin. You shudder as a thrill runs up your spine as you imagine how that will feel, and you wonder if you can die from anticipation. 

“Is this what you imagined, darling? Or have your wicked fantasies bested me?” Astarion teases, his voice low as he returns to his position, howevering over you. He dips his head down, nibbling at your ear before moving down to press a trail of kisses across your neck. 

“You are far better than anything I could have imagined, though...I’m not sure this isn’t fantasy.” You breathe out, feeling dizzy from his proximity. 

“This is very much so reality, darling.” Astarion murmurs into your skin. “And I have every intention of proving it.” 

He leans up a little, just enough so that he can grasp your hips, lifting them to meet his body. As you watch him bring his member to your opening, you wonder if you will ever remember how to breathe. But suddenly, you feel him push in, and suddenly all you can focus on is just how right it feels.

 He takes his time, though it's easy for him to slip in, your body plenty wet from your arousal. He groans your name softly as he feels you clench down, as if your body is demanding to have more without delay. He happily obliges, pushing forward a little more intently, watching to ensure you are comfortable. 

You have no qualms, however; every inch you receive sends little waves of pleasure radiating through your body. You wonder how you ever lived without this, the desperate ache inside of your core easing away as he fills you up. As he gets closer to his base, it becomes a bit of a stretch, your body not quite used to the length, but your moan is full of appreciation rather than pain. 

Astarion bottoms out, a deep breath escaping him as he does. “My darling…” He murmurs, caressing his hands up and down your hips. His eyes are hazy, his body thrumming with heat, with the sheer ecstasy of being so deeply intertwined with you. 

Your own body is pulsing, and you grow a little greedy, your hands grasping at his pale strands of hair. “Astarion...m-more…please…”

Astarion moans again, amazed by how he could have someone so incredible possibly want him. “Do not fear, my love. I have every intention of giving you everything.”

Astarion pulls back his hips, pushing them back in a little quickly, his stomach lurching as he hears the gasp that escapes you. He repeats the motion, building up a steady pace as he thrusts in and out of your warmth. It's like your bodies need one another, crave the most carnal and yet loving intimacy that can be had. Astarion's hands firmly grasp your thighs, wrapping your legs around his hips so he can thrust deeper, a little harder as he does so. Both of you moan, the pleasure intensified through the new angle. Astarion stops being careful, pumping in and out of your soft body at a reckless pace, needing to chase the pleasure that continues to rise higher and hotter between the two of you. 

The two of you are lost to your ecstasy until you reach the height of it. You come hard and fast, your insides burning up from the tightly wound coil. You forget everything, calling out Astarion’s name without caring if others will hear it, clinging to him as your pleasure takes you. Astarion follows almost immediately after, hips stuttering before he just presses into you, allowing his hot release to fill up your body. Your thighs soon become slick as it spills out of your body, but you hardly notice, more focused on the sensation of Astarion’s body laying on top of yours. 

For a few moments, you both just lay there together, panting heavily, minds spinning from the sheer amount of bliss the two of you have created. Your hands stroke through his hair, his own hands still cupping your waist as if you are the only thing grounding him to the earth. 

“You are so perfect, my love..” Astarion whispers, his voice husky and low, barely a murmur in your ear. “Just positively divine.” 

You smile, a little flutter of satisfaction warming your own heart. “As are you. I feel absolutely incredible, thanks to you.” 

The white-haired elf chuckles, pressing a kiss to your neck. “Do not ever thank me, my darling. I’m almost ashamed to admit how much of this was for my own pleasure. You will have to force me to only think of you, next time.” 

“Next time?” You echo, quirking a brow at him, hope fluttering in your chest.  Astarion’s smile curls across his flushed face, and he tucks your hair behind your ear. “Of course darling. I can’t have my beloved resorting to her own hands the next time she needs to feel good. Especially if I can be the one hearing you moan my name.”

[gojodickbig]

To Be Loved Is To Be Seen. | Gojo Satoru x f!Reader.

warnings: self-doubt, mutual pinning, mental health struggles, emotional hurt/comfort.

A/N: hehe i know i said that i don't write but this is a little thing i wrote yesterday, (first time posting something that’s not a smau, so bear with me!) this is for my avoidant attachment cuties who have so much love to offer but that are also always scared of ruining things with the person they love and think they’re not enough. i feel you—i struggle with this too. but remember, you’re always enough and deserve love so don't push it away. i wrote this while crying (lol) because i found myself in a similar situation with my actual boyfriend when we first started "dating". hope you enjoy reading, let me know what you think!

also likes and reblogs are appreciated! :)

word count: 2320.

“No,” you say, stepping back and resting your hands on the kitchen counter. “Stop that. You don’t mean what you’re saying right now.”

“You’re wrong,” Gojo says, stepping closer to you. “I mean every word.” He raises a hand, reaching out to touch you. “Please, look at me.”

“I can’t,” you whisper, avoiding his touch. “You should go.”

“I love you.”

“You don’t.”

He falters, and for a moment, the silence between you and him feels like a heavy weight. His gaze never leaves yours, though you can’t bring yourself to meet it.

“I do,” he insists, his voice low but unwavering. “I’ve never been more certain of anything in my life.”

“I’m a mess,” you choke out, your voice trembling as you turn away, desperate to hide the tears that threaten to fall. “I don’t deserve your love. I’m broken.”

“You deserve better.” Your voice cracks. “Someone who isn’t afraid of loving you.”

The silence stretches as Gojo watches you, the pain in his eyes mirroring yours. His chest rises and falls with uneven breaths, as if he’s struggling to hold himself together. He takes in the way your shoulders hunch, the way your hands grip the counter behind you like it’s the only thing keeping you grounded. The tension is palpable, each second stretching out, heavy with unspoken fears.

“Stop,” he interrupts, his voice hoarse, filled with raw emotion that makes your heart stutter. “You’re all I deserve—and more than I ever thought I could have. Don’t you see? It’s always been you.”

He steps forward, ignoring the space you tried to put between you and him, until there’s only a breath between you. “None of that matters to me. I see you, all of you. And I love you. Every part of you, even the parts you think are too much to bear.”

“You don’t understand.” Your voice cracks, a sob catching in your throat. “I can’t… I can’t let you in. You’ll get hurt, and I can’t let that happen.”

“Then let me decide,” he says softly, his voice full of tenderness. “Let me be the one to choose.”

You shake your head, wiping your eyes, not wanting him to see how vulnerable you feel. “You don’t know what you’re asking. I don’t know how to love anyone… I don’t even know how to love myself.”

He steps even closer, his voice a soft but firm whisper. “I’m not asking for perfection. I’m asking for you. All of you, as you are. Because you are enough for me.”

You back away, the ache in your chest intensifying, but he doesn’t move. His eyes are full of something you can’t name, something that pulls at the deepest parts of you, something that terrifies you. “I can’t… I can’t let you do this.”

“Why?” Gojo’s question is quiet, almost a plea. “Why can’t you believe me? Why can’t you see that I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere?”

The words catch in your throat. The wall you’ve spent so long building starts to crack, but you can’t let it fall. Not now. Not like this.

“Because I’m afraid,” you finally whisper, your voice barely audible. “Afraid that if I let you in, you’ll leave when you realize how much of a disaster I really am.”

He takes another step forward, his eyes searching yours for some kind of answer, some sign that you’ll let him in. “I’m not going anywhere,” Gojo says, his voice steady. “I’m staying.”

Your breath hitches, and for the first time, you let yourself meet his gaze, really meet it. His eyes are open, raw, like he’s offering you every part of himself. The tenderness in his expression is almost too much to bear.

“You don’t know what you’re asking for,” you say, shaking your head, but your voice is quieter now, softer.

“I know.” He murmurs, his hand hovering just inches from you, like he’s waiting for you to make the choice. “But I’m not afraid of you. I’m not afraid of your pain. I’ll take all of it if it means I get to love you.”

A tear slips down your cheek, and you try to wipe it away quickly, but he reaches out and gently catches your wrist. “Let me love you. Let me stay.”

The words hang in the air between you—heavy and final. For a moment, the room feels like it’s shrinking, the tension pulling at your chest, at your heart. You want to believe him, want to let yourself fall into the safety he’s offering. But the fear, the doubt—it feels like a weight too great to lift.

“I’m not… I’m not ready,” you whisper, your voice trembling with the truth. “I’m not ready to let anyone in. Not like this.” You look at him, your voice barely a whisper. “Please, Gojo, you should go.”

He lowers his hand but doesn’t pull away. He steps closer, closing the distance until you’re standing so close you can feel the warmth of his presence, the steady rhythm of his breath. “You don’t have to be ready,” he says softly, his voice low and insistent. “Not right now. Don’t send me away. Just let me stay.”

You don’t know how to respond, don’t know what to do with the storm of emotions crashing inside you. But in that moment, you feel something shift. Maybe you can’t let him in completely—not yet. But maybe, just maybe, you don’t have to push him away completely either.

“I’m too much for you,” you whisper, almost as if saying it out loud makes it more real. “I can’t fix myself. No one can… not even you.”

Gojo takes another step forward, gently cupping your face in his hands. His touch is warm, grounding. “You don’t need to fix yourself. You don’t need to be perfect. You don’t need to be anything but you. And I’m not going anywhere, no matter how many times you tell me to.”

A shudder runs through your body as the tears you’ve been holding back finally spill over. You close your eyes, trying to hide the vulnerability from him, but he doesn’t let you. He pulls you closer, wrapping his arms around you, holding you with a tenderness that feels like home.

“I’m scared,” you admit, your voice muffled against his chest. “I’m so scared that if I let you in, I’ll destroy everything.”

“You’re not going to destroy anything,” he murmurs, holding you tighter. “You’re not going to destroy me, and even if you do, I wouldn’t mind being hurt by you if that means I could actually be with you, to love you. I’m choosing to stay, even if it’s messy. Even if it’s hard.”

Gojo pulls back just slightly, his thumb gently wiping the tears from your face. His gaze softens, full of affection. “I wish you could have my eyes for just a moment, to see how perfect and incredible you are. You’re an amazing woman. Don’t you see that?” he says quietly, his voice filled with warmth.

"I’m not perfect,” you say, your voice cracking again as more tears fall.

He lifts your chin with his finger, making you meet his gaze. “I don’t want you to be perfect. I never did. I just want you—exactly as you are. All the imperfections and scars, they’re part of what makes you who you are. And that’s more than enough for me.”

You inhale shakily, the weight of his words settling into your chest. “But what if I can’t love you the way you deserve?”

Gojo’s hand cups your cheek now, his touch gentle and sure. “You don’t have to love me perfectly. You just have to try. We’ll figure it out together, one step at a time. But you don’t have to be afraid to love me, or to let me love you.”

You let out a broken laugh, wiping your eyes. “I don’t know how to stop being afraid.”

“Then let me help you,” Gojo says, his voice soft, yet strong. “I’ll be right here, through the fear, the pain, and everything in between. Like i said, I’m not going anywhere. I’m staying. Always."

His words wrap around you like a blanket, offering warmth you didn’t think you could feel again. Maybe you’re not ready to let go of all your walls, but maybe, just maybe, you don’t need to be. Because with him here, you’re starting to think that it’s okay to take that first step toward trusting someone with your heart.

And as you stand in his arms, the fear doesn’t go away—but it starts to feel like something you can face, as long as he’s by your side.

And for the first time, you let yourself believe him. Hope stirs in your chest, fragile but present. Maybe, just maybe, you don’t have to do this alone.

© gojodickbig on tumblr. all rights reserved. do not cross-post, translate, copy in any way, etc.

[honorhearted]

"I don't think there is a single thing in the world you could do to disappoint me, Benjamin Tallmadge."

He snorted. "Well, I certainly hope you'll remember this moment when you are, in fact, disappointed in me in the future. I'm quite the over-achiever, after all."

Penelope spoke of a son following in his footsteps, and despite the leap in his chest at such a thought, it was soon soured as Benjamin drifted to thinking of war, of destruction and pain and death, and his shoulders curled inward. "I should hope not," he murmured. "If it's all the same to you, I'd rather not share my stories with our children... I fought so they could be free, so they could be happy, and I don't wish for them to know any of the pain I've endured. Not even a moment."

Penelope, thankfully, seemed quite content to continue teasing him, so Benjamin latched on to the much lighter fare of conversation. With a snort, he asked, "How can I not compliment you? That seems like a double-edged sword, and I'm not about to risk displeasing my betrothed. Unless, of course, it leads to more untoward requests."

Penelope giggled, leaning into his touch with a gentle incline of her neck. "If leaving you now is so difficult, I can't imagine how hard it will be once we are properly wed."

"We'll never leave the house," Benjamin agreed, chuckling. "And if anyone trespasses during our honeymoon, I'll be certain to greet them with a musket. I think I've earned the right to be possessive of my wife. If they wish to hold an audience with you, they can wait in line." Grazing his lips along her shoulder, he muttered, "Unfortunately for them, I am the only one granted permission to enter that coveted queue."

Penelope hummed. "Do you really think anyone would even notice if I just stayed here forever? Surely, Mama is far too enraptured in planning the wedding to notice and its not as though anyone would miss me otherwise."

Benjamin fought back a groan. "Don't go giving me any ideas... I'm serious, Pen, I'm at the point where I'd rather just kidnap you for a week, and then claim a loss of sanity." He shrugged. "We're already engaged, but that at least would ensure that you have to marry me."

Penelope followed his glance toward the clock. "I suppose I cannot delay for much longer, so this is where we must part. The weeks ahead are sure to be long and arduous."

Benjamin grimaced. "You don't know the half of it...I'm afraid men are the far weaker of the two sexes, so I'll be in the direst of straits."

Turning to face him, Penelope smoothed her palms along his chest with a pout. "Promise you won't forget about me in the time we're apart?"

"Impossible," he vowed. "I'll be thinking of you each and every waking moment, slowly being driven to madness." Dropping a kiss onto her forehead, he lowly added, "I hope it isn't too much to hope for the same?"

--

Within a week's time, Benjamin found himself in Penelope's presence again. Her mother was distracted with God only knew what -- it seemed that marriages of the ton were quite the affair -- and despite his good cheer, he kept pacing around the room.

"I'm so bloody nervous," he confessed. "If my assumptions are correct, Father will be arriving sometime today, and I just... I'm unsure of what to expect." He halted in his restless trek, turned, and then glanced toward Penelope with a low breath. "I never told you this, but I essentially ran away from home... Not because of anything I did, but rather, because I couldn't face the pain of losing my brother. So I did the cowardly thing, and I left my father all alone."

Shoulders hunkering, Benjamin looked down at his boots in shame. "I've written to Father, of course -- I'm not that cold-blooded -- but I imagine he must still be hurt. And I want him to love you so very much, but...what if I've already ruined everything before it's even had a chance to begin?"

If I'd known from the start how we would've ended up, I'm not so certain I would have ever been a gentleman.

"I find that hard to believe. Even in the throes of passion, you're a perfect gentleman." Pen quirked her lips into a sweet smile, a renewed flush creeping onto her cheeks. She knew she was lucky to have found someone like Ben, and that such a someone loved her as intensely as she loved them. Pen had nearly accepted the fact that her life would most likely be devoid of love. She might learn to love a husband, if she had been fortunate enough to find a man willing to marry her, but she had never expected to find a love match. And yet she had been proved wrong time and time again.

"Yes, actually." She teased, arching her brows in defiance. "I would like you to reenact the story of the handsome, charming foreign soldier who seduces the insipid wallflower with his smile and devilishly sharp wit. Are you familiar with that one?" Perching her hands on her hips, she tried to maintain a neutral expression but she found it hard when her body was still thrumming with electricity. "I don't think there is a single thing in the world you could do to disappoint me, Benjamin Tallmadge."

You know I love it when you give commands. Pen bit at the inside of her cheek to suppress a grin. She'd been told on multiple ocassions that she had a tendency to be too bossy. She liked to be in charge of things, especially when so much of her life seemed to be entirely out of her control. Whistledown had afforded her the luxury of controlling the narrative of scandals in the ton, but there were often times her pride spilled over.

"Is that so? I do enjoy giving commands every once in a while. I think it runs in the family. Perhaps, one day, a son of ours will follow in their father's footsteps. Though, I wouldn't mind if they decided to become little poets and authors instead."

Although she knew she would support her children in whatever endeavors they found themselves thrown into, Pen wasn't entirely eager to imagine her sons off to war. Even so, she refused to dwell on such a thing. Those were matters for the future, problems to be dealt with when they arose. For now, Pen was satisfied with living in the moment and planning for the near future instead.

"You must not give me so many compliments this soon. I'll hardly have any motivation to do better if you spoil me too much. Lucky for you, I'm a dutiful student."

Pen let out a soft giggle, reaching up to rest her hands on his arms. The idea of going a single day without him was tortuous, even though she knew it would be worth the wait. If they were to behave properly, it could be weeks until she felt his arms around her again. She was sure she would go insane in that much time, but at least she would be able to relish in the memory of him until then. The idea of a special marriage license was terribly tempting, but Pen knew that it would be near impossible to get. A lady of the ton marrying a foreigner was not likely to earn a favorable compliance by Her Majesty. Instead, she resigned herself to her fate. If nothing else, it would prove to be a good practice of patience.

"If leaving you now is so difficult, I can't imagine how hard it will be once we are properly wed." She sighed, nuzzling into his touch. Although Pen was determined to not be an overly needy or nagging wife, she had a feeling she would be following him around like a puppy for most of the honeymoon--and long after, as well. She had spent her entire life searching for a place to belong and now that she'd finally found it in Ben's arms, she wasn't in a rush to part with the feeling.

"Do you really think anyone would even notice if I just stayed here forever? Surely, Mama is far too enraptured in planning the wedding to notice and its not as though anyone would miss me otherwise." Even as she teased, Pen knew there was some truth behind her words. Her mother was enjoying the party planning aspect of the wedding and Pen didn't mind handing over the reigns since such a thing was far too overwhelming to handle. All she wanted was to hide away from the world and be with her fiancé.

"I suppose I cannot delay for much longer, so this is where we must part. The weeks ahead are sure to be long and arduous." Turning around to face him, Pen whined, lips puffed out into a pout. "Promise you won't forget about me in the time we're apart?"

[witches-dream]

Warning: Ramble incoming

Here's what interests me in a potential Burning Spice redemption story, specifically the scenario in which Golden Cheese takes his Soul Jam away

First off, she can't... "Claim" it fully, she can't use its power, because she's not about Destruction, which is what his Soul Jam represents. Similarly to how Spice couldn't use her Soul Jam because he doesn't represent Abundance, and similarly to how Smoked Cheese could do fuck all with it other than ruining absolutely everything. There was a reason that the initial Soul Jams got split, and now that they are separated into their respective halves, the originals no longer exist and CAN'T exist.

So that's why if Goldie were to take Spice's Soul Jam, she'd have to store it somewhere. And I'm assuming that being far away from it weakens the connection, but then again Hollyberry was taking strolls around Beast-Yeast while her own Jam was sitting in her kingdom, so the connection is still there even when 1) the Soul Jam owners are far away and 2) they have weak spiritual connection to it (as in, each of the ancients had to reconnect with their respective lights to get their full power back).

What I'm getting at is that even if Golden Cheese takes Spice's Soul Jam and fucks off with it to the other side of Earthbread, it's not guaranteed that Spice will lose his connection with it and therefore immortality. So here's a logical continuation to this scenario.

He needs to stop representing Destruction.

If he no longer believes in his power and his worldviews, if he grows weak and gives up on everything, then his connection to his Soul Jam will weaken, he will lose his powers and then his immortality.

Another option is to destroy his Soul Jam, but 1) I'm not sure that's possible and 2) if Goldie wanted a trophy would she do this?? And if she wanted to spare Spice's life, destroying his Jam would be akin to indirectly killing him cuz he would lose immortality.

But anyway. How would you even go about making the Great Destroyer not represent Destruction anymore? With even a fraction of his power left, he'd still go after Goldie. He'd force someone to use spice magic to teleport him to Goldie's kingdom. If the Soul Jam is stored there, he'd gain his powers back just from being near it. I suppose we can introduce some sorta technology, like a barrier that blocks magic, which would prevent Spice from accessing his Soul Jam's power. But, if he's still connected to it, does that take away his immortality or what?

As long as he 1) believes in the "survival of the fittest" principle; 2) believes history repeats itself with no meaningful progression; 3) has no desire to give it a chance; 4) wants to fight Goldie and take her Jam; 5) believes that only destruction will distract him from boredom and probably 6) lots of other things, he still represents Destruction and therefore his Jam is still his. How to go about tormenting him enough to break that connection is beyond me. Heck, even if he kneels before Goldie and begs her to kill him, you can argue that's still his belief that destruction is the only way.

But i digress. I don't think that you need to think that deep for a fanfic. Cuz a fanfic is always a "what if" scenario based on what you want to see, not what would actually happen, and "what would actually happen" is subjective anyways, cuz this is a fictional story and those are inherently subjective.

I guess the conclusion of this ramble is that there's not a way, at least an easy one, where you could pull such a scenario off in a canon-compliant way. Cuz if you did, all of that ⬆️ would get in the way of the actual story you'd wanna tell. But mortal Burning Spice is too cool of an idea to not allow some creative liberties even if they're canon breaking but c'mon. Who cares about "canon" when you can have fanfic.

That's all from me, good night

[fatherrussia-69]

「《Happy Birthday Father R and Updates!》」

Hey Hey! Sorry for the absences, if you've been keeping up with all the updates, you'll know that we've been pretty busy this year and haven't been able to write. o(*￣▽￣*)ブ Yeahhh, School's just been eating up me and Editor T's schedules. 😩🤧 We've tried finding a good schedule for Father R to write without him getting burnt out and for me and Henchman A to be available to edit, pre-read and add our authornotes, but it's been proving to be difficult. That's why we've just settled for the goal of getting at least 2-3 chapters posted per month. It's not as many as it used to be last year, but working on the weekends seem to be the only saving grace. (￣▽￣)" There's a break coming up for Thanksgiving, so we're going to double-timing that week to try and get things posted. I cannot assure anyone that we'll get a chapter posted, but we'll have definitely made progress. I've also made a bit of a routine when it comes to writing to avoid Writer's block, and I'm proud to say Chapter 61 of SSATW is about 78% ready for posting. RAD Chapter 4 is about 64% but that's only because I haven't figured out the skeletal structure of the chapter yet- ヾ(≧ ▽ ≦)ゝ Anyways, Now that Updates are out of the way, HAPPY FUCKING BIRTHDAY BIG GUY!!! 🥳🎉🎊🎂 Happy Birthday Father R, and thank you @thegenderfluidace for surprising him with this drawing this morning. Hearing him screech in joy was one wake to wake up. Sorry about that- But truthfully, Thank you so much Ace for the drawing!!! Your art is amazing, and whether or not you were able to finish the drawing doesn't ruin the surprise in the slightest. q(≧▽≦q) As per tradition, we went bowling on his birthday and God Damn- 😀💀 I got first place, which isn't surprising. Gutter, after Gutter, After Gutter- ...( ＿ ＿)ノ｜

Ask me how this man got outdone by the NPC (accidentally added another slot so we all just randomly rolled balls down the lane). 🤧🤣 I had a rebirth on my skill tree okay? (┬┬﹏┬┬) You only had 23 points. Everyone else was above 50- Couldn't be me. 🤪😘 Just wait till next year. o(一︿一+)o Anyways, we'll see you guys pretty soon, we have some questions in our Inbox and although the Q&A has long since ended, we will answer a few of them when we can! If you guys have any questions or just want to chat with us, don't be afraid to drop by our inbox and say hello! (´▽`ʃ♡ƪ) ALSO WE REACHED 108 FOLLOWERS ON TUMBLR!! YOU GUYS ARE ABSOLUTELY FUCKING AMAZING!!!! 😍🤩😖

[storiesbyjes2g]

3.189 Correction

When story time ended, Sophia took Desi to the bathroom and washed away the mess. With a few moments to myself, I went to the real estate website to see our house again and choose which side we'll call home. Both houses have an identical layout, so it really boiled down to which furniture we liked more. The gray house had a more sophisticated vibe, while the blue house was more relaxed and comfortable. Choosing was a lot harder than I imagined because they both were nice, and I couldn't go wrong with either. Ultimately, however, I chose the gray one. I figured since I'm taking on all the risk, it's only right we live in the fancier one. Just as I picked up the phone to call Less and tell her we have a house, someone knocked at the front door. It was Dub! I let him in and told him I was just thinking of him yesterday. Usually he'd take the opportunity to joke about how he has that effect on sims, but he just kinda snorted and said it was funny in the driest of tones. There was nothing funny about that half-hearted laugh and him standing in the foyer staring into the corner. Something was wrong.

"Earth to Dubstep. You coming in or you gonna stand in the foyer all night?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah, I'm good."

He definitely was not good because he didn't even flinch at the mention of the nickname he hates so much. Whatever's got him in a funk is probably why he's here. He always comes to me when he's in crisis. Well, when he perceives he's in crisis, rather. I love the guy, but he's a little high-strung sometimes. I'm glad he has sims in his life like Maia and me who are much calmer and more level-headed to keep him straight.

I didn't want to just dive in and spook him, though, so I started with a little small talk.

"Happy belated," I said.

"Thanks, man," he replied with a tiny grin.

"How did Tami like sharing her day with you?"

He let out a very long sigh, and I knew I had stepped unintentionally right into the middle of what I tried to dance around. I guess we're going all the way in.

"She didn't."

"Oh."

"How do you-" He stopped himself and turned away from me. "Nevermind. You wouldn't understand."

"Understand what?"

He swatted at me, trying to sweep the conversation back under the rug.

"Nothing. You have the perfect child and all this wisdom. You don't understand what it's like for the rest of us."

Was he mocking me? I've had it up to here with everyone assuming I live this perfect life and have all the answers. I'm one of the most down-to-earth sims I know, yet somehow I still end up being out of touch with everyone. Am I too confident? Too strong? I know I've carried things I shouldn't have in the past, and I need to be more open, but how does that equate to me having it all together? I know Dub is upset about something and isn't thinking straight, so I'm gonna try to let it go this time, but not before I give him a little dose of truth because, upset or not, this fairytale everyone thinks I live in ends today.

"Do you really believe that?" I asked.

He shrugged.

"Maybe. I don't know. But I'm sure you're gonna tell me how I'm wrong, so..."

"Damn right I am. You don't know my life like you think you do. And you definitely don't know what goes on in my head. 'All this wisdom?' I got it from all the shit and mental gymnastics I've been through. Now, I'll be the first to say my child is the best, but she has her moments too. And I've had my share of parenting and marriage fails, so don't tell me I don't know what it's like."

He sat silently for a few moments, taking in my reprove. Part of me thinks all he needed was to hear me say he's not alone, but another part thinks he still needs advice on something, so I got down to business.

"What happened, Dub? I don't like seeing you like this."

"I'm sorry. I don't know why I said that."

"Don't worry about it. What's going on?"

"You ever wonder if you're ruining Desi?"

His question caught me off guard, and I laughed. He has no idea how obvious that answer should be.

"Only all the time," I said.

His eyes lit up.

"Really?"

"Of course. Did Tami come with a manual? Because we sure didn't get one. I don't know what I'm doing half the time, man, so yeah...I wonder. Like, her birthday is in two days, but I'm still carrying her around like an infant. She enjoys it, so it's cool, but is it hurting her? Will she want to be up under us all the time when she's older? Am I keeping her from becoming independent? I question every move I make with her, even if it's not necessarily bad."

"I feel that." He sat there, nodding over and over as if to drum up the courage to make his next statement. "Tami has been doing and saying some mean things lately, but I just let it happen because of my own feelings about the sims she's doing it to."

"How do you mean?"

"I told you she kicked my former tenants. You know they deserved that. She also bit my father-in-law. I was so proud of her because someone needs to knock him down a few pegs. But she's older now and using words. She cut up this little girl in the park yesterday and told her she wasn't pretty."

"Seriously?"

"Yeah. But the other girl started it, so she had it coming too."

"I see what you mean now."

"So, what do you think about it?"

Oof. Why does he always put me in this position? I have a lot of feelings about this, but I'm sure none of them are what he wants to hear. But what kind of friend would I be if I said nothing? I'd feel terrible if Tami grew up to be a monster, knowing I had the opportunity to shed some light early on. It won't be comfortable, but I've got to at least try. Here goes nothing.

"I think ... You're my boy, and I'll always tell you the truth, so ... You're her dad, Dub. You should be the one telling her those things are wrong, not encouraging her bad behavior. I know you think all those folks got what they deserved, which is also problematic, but is that the message you want to send Tami? That she can do and say whatever she wants and get away with it because 'they deserved it?' I'm afraid of the path you're putting her on. What kind of a woman will she become if you let her continue on like this? Do you think of her future?"

"Of course I do! What kind of a-"

He paused, succumbing to the realization I was right, even though I wondered if I had gone too far.

"I'm sorry if I'm out of line," I said. "I wouldn't have said anything if I didn't care."

"No. You're right. You always are. I was just thinking about what my parents will say if they find out how she's been acting. There's no way in hell they would have let me get away with the stuff I let slide."

I can't imagine my parents letting us get away with that either, but I honestly don't know what they would have done. Me and Less never really got into trouble, and my parents were both so lenient. I guess I'll never know. Hopefully, I'll never have to talk to Desi about this.

"I'm glad you always keep it 100 with me," he continued. "That's why I trust you so much. Can't lie, though. That hurt, but I know I needed to hear it. Deep down, I knew, but I never saw it like that. I'll do better, though. Believe that."

"I believe it, man. We don't play about our daughters."

"We absolutely do not!"

Not that I don't love these deep conversations with my best friend, but that one got really heavy, and he clearly has a lot to mull over later, so I pulled out my phone and showed him our new home, hoping a lighter topic would do the trick.

[quickdeaths]

Difficulty accepting praise was the fault of the receiver? Well, Shinobu wasn't about to turn away any framework that positioned her as the person at fault, in any avenue. "I suppose so," she mused with a light shrug. She could try to explain it, but what use was that, really? Her own awful life stacked up poorly against Sonia's, and to try and elicit any sympathy from her in this scenario would be uncomfortably callous. Better, then, to simply go along with things - to need as little as possible, to ask for as little as possible, to take up the smallest space she could imagine in hopes that it wouldn't be too much.

Quiet for a time, eyes moving between the film, Sonia, and back against, they thought of how to say what they wanted to say. Shinobu's throat was dry, even as she drank her water. Was it because it would be so easy for Sonia to refuse her, and that would be that? She'd have no follow-up from there - if Sonia wished to return to Novoselic on her own, without Shinobu's accompaniment, then, they'd likely never see each other again. Shinobu would return to the ruins of their life in Japan, and that would be that. For as anxious as she was, for how much she feared imposing, surely it was better than that.

"I don't know," she murmured as Sonia looked over the cats, all stumbling around in the dark, "I think they'd appreciate any sort of name you gave them, fitting or not." She wasn't much for names in the first place - she'd discarded the one given to her, and as for her fish, she'd never seen a reason to differentiate them with words. It would be just as easy to refer to the cats by color or pattern, or personality, as it would to name them. "After all, the act of giving a name at all is a sign of care, isn't it?" At least from Sonia, they thought.

As for the matter of the topic they wished to speak upon, Shinobu couldn't help but give a weak, quiet laugh at Sonia's assessment. "Serious and mysterious," she repeated back to her in a soft voice. "Well, I suppose I can't argue with that. At one point, I think those would have been seen as rather apt descriptors of me and my personality." Although, she had to imagine any sense of mystery had been washed away, eroded by that which she'd done, and that which had been done to her. Or, perhaps it was just that mystery was no longer in vogue - too dark and ill-suited to a world aiming to rebuild.

But Sonia... she was cute - she was always so cute. "I know that you don't have an institutional control over my schedule, Miss Nevermind," she clarified with a small shake of her head. Though, if it would get Togami sent away, they'd prefer it if the Remnants did. "That's not what I meant, exactly." How to explain it... The feeling was bubbling up in her chest, awkward, anxious. Since she'd first arrived on Jabberwock Island, she' just wanted to be close to Sonia - to look after her, to support her, to shield her as much as possible from her own coworkers. This could be the end to all of that - the last time she spent with Sonia together.

That was no excuse, though, to stay quiet, even if her own cowardly instincts were to stay silent. "I think I should return to Japan for a short while in the near future. It might be in my best interest to take a small break from work, for the benefit of my health." Mental and physical. "I wouldn't want you to be surprised if I was suddenly gone for a week or two." A longer stay might be more beneficial, and with how long they'd been on Jabberwock Island without rotation, Shinobu was sure they could argue for it, but their own needs had to be carefully weighed against a litany of other factors - Sonia's needs, of course, chief among them.

"If I do, though, I thought, when I return..." Her voice trailed off as her expression, pensive as she looked to the floor, rather than to Sonia, or the film still running. "I don't know when you're returning to Novoselic, Miss Nevermind, but I overhead some of my coworkers mention that you're likely to be assigned a Future Foundation agent as permanent accompaniment, but that person has yet to be chosen." Finally, she lifted her head, looking over to Sonia. "I'd hate to impose upon you if you loathe the idea, but I wondered if you might accept that it be me."

Sonia couldn't stop a ladylike snort at Yaguchi's comment: empathy was not Byakuya Togami's strong point. She doubted it ever was, but it was particularly lacking where she was concerned. His managing of her journey back to Novoselic and what awaited her there were proof of it. From what she'd heard from others, Yaguchi had an equally awful time working with him.

At least her discomfort wasn't all in her head. The other members of the Future Foundation either embraced his unfeeling way of working or begrudgingly insisted that he wasn't all bad. She wasn't convinced, as she settled into the very edge of the bed Miss Kitty and her growing family allowed for Sonia to occupy as the mother began to strain for the last kitten, the little ones eagerly suckled, and the former princess watched a little witch leave home with big dreams and aspirations. Not unlike herself, she thought, when she'd left Novoselic behind for a normal high school life in Japan.

"Generally, difficulty accepting praise is the fault of the person receiving it for some reason," She replied, as the country town Kiki left had vanished into a bustling city. "Though often not due to a personal failure: our past shapes us into who we are. Even if you regret much of it."

She spoke of her own of course, reaching out to pet Miss Kitty's head as she yowled again, finding no comfort from the film or the little black cat with sassy comebacks. At least between the new movie and the last kitten being born, Sonia didn't have to think about kept secrets and betrayals by those she thought she could trust. It wrapped up prettily for a romantic comedy of course, but real life would always be more complicated. Yaguchi seemed to understand that and hadn't pressed her further: Sonia appreciated that. At least she hadn't asked about romance directly: that was a ship that had long since sailed. Countless incidents of sexual abuse and murder tended to make one no longer desireable for such a thing. Gundham had only confirmed it, and it wasn't like she needed to be loved in order to fulfill her duties to the Future Foundation and her country. Just a functioning uterus, which she was often reminded as one of the primary reasons she was kept alive and would be returning home to put it to good use.

But cats...cats could love her, Sonia supposed, as a grey striped kitten was brought into the world with a shrieking meow as Miss Kitty cleaned it off with the last of her strength before collapsing against the mattress, her head in Sonia's outstretched, cupped hand. She was exhausted and seemingly would get no relief, not with five kittens suckling at her. She seemed to appreciate any comfort she could find, purring against Sonia's fingers as she scratched her cheek.

"Well, that's that," Sonia murmured the obvious as five tiny kittens with closed eyes, wobbly steps, and loud cries all clamored for a nipple. It would take some careful moving about to make sure two kittens didn't fight over the same source of sustenance. Which she did with the newest arrival, situating it close enough to its brothers and sisters while giving it ample space to drink. "And you will all need names, won't you. I'm not sure what to even call all of you: all of the animals I used to know had mythological names, or occult-related ones. I am not sure either would be suitable for you all, not anymore."

The mother didn't seem to care too much what her children were called, as long as they were fed and taken care of, and she had some time to eat and rest as well. Only Yaguchi seemed agitated by it all, Sonia giving her a puzzled look. "You make it sound both serious and mysterious," She replied. The film had turned to a series of sequences in a bakery, making all sorts of delicious breads. Sonia's mouth watered: yeast was hard to come by on Jabberwock Island and baking was an art form, one Teruteru hadn't been able to indulge in since he'd awakened.

At least Novoselic had that going for it: bread, in varying degrees of freshness. "I doubt I have any influence on your schedule, Yaguchi," Sonia told her matter-of-factly. "That would likely be something you'd need to take up with Naegi, or the headquarters back in Japan. The Future Foundation has say over the lot of us, not the other way round. If so, I imagine we would have thrown Togami on the next ship back to the mainland with a note pinned to his jacket insisting he never be returned."

[syneilesis]

Three hours, one coffee shop, and two cappuccinos later, I wrote the beginning of a WMMAP fic.

[lazylittledragon]

i keep trying to think of funny/poetic ways to talk about all the things i'm feeling right now but i honestly can't so. i'm really sad about what happened with my partner. i know he was an inconsiderate prick about it and that i didn't do anything wrong and i couldn't have prevented it but i'm just really fucking sad.

[deoidesign]

Hii! I have been recently getting more and more obsessed with your art and webcomic and was wondering if I could use your art as like a profile picture? (With credit!!) If not that's perfectly fine! :)

yeah you can use my art for whatever as long as you're not stealing it or selling it

I don't mind if people print my art out for themselves either. I do sell prints, but it doesn't bother me either way

In general I don't post anything that I haven't made my peace with all that comes with sharing my art publicly! So feel free to use it as you please pretty much.

Giving me credit for the things I've made is respectful and helps me in my career, and I would hope that most people intend to respect my work... And the people who don't respect my work were never going to whether I asked or not.

I make my work for other people to enjoy it, I want you to enjoy it!

[tozettastone]

"That other unnamed Grimmjow/Ichigo (Bleach) fic," is actually a fic in which I skimmed so many of the omegaverse fics (which, can confirm, I still don't enjoy) and a bunch of the mating cycles/in heat fics and decided I too could write about the hollow urge to bone.

It's a fic about how Ichigo experiences a fairly minor change in his libido relating to the awakening of his inner hollow and, because he is a teenager, responds like the world is ending.

My draft is a draft and subject to change, but this is the vibe:

"Like a cow?" is the first thing Ichigo thinks to say, puffed up in indignation. It's not Ichigo's fault, really. He remembers, very vaguely, a life sciences class from when he was fifteen. Everyone picked an animal about which to research the life cycle. Ichigo, naturally, had been late — important shinigami business, naturally — and the only approved animal left had been domestic cattle. That was the last time he heard the word "oestrus." It has been living on the back shelf of his brain ever since. It's definitely not a term he expects to hear used about himself! Urahara blinks at him from over his fan. He opens his mouth. Closes it. Opens it again. "Not... exactly," he says. Ichigo gets the sense that he has, for once, surprised him. "Many mammals experience oestrus cycles, Kurosaki-kun. Humans are actually in the minori—" "Urahara-san... Is this some kind of bad joke?" Ichigo can't imagine otherwise, but he also can't figure out why this is the joke Urahara is telling. His sense of humour usually runs high to pervy shit, but it's usually aimed at pretty young girls, not... "You're telling me everyone with an inner hollow is going around in — in season?" Like a farm animal? "Ah. No." Urahara tilts his head so that the shine of one eye peeks out from under the shadow of his hat. "This kind of thing... it's hollow biology. It's not something that affects vizards. I've never seen it on paper before and I've never studied its effects." "If it doesn't happen to vizards, why would it happen to me?" Ichigo demands. Urahara tucks one hand behind his head and titters an obnoxious little laugh, because he's clearly not taking this anywhere near as seriously as Ichigo wishes he would. "You're unique! It's hard to predict these things with your hybrid biology, you know. But as far as I know, there's no reason to suspect it will make you do anything you don't already want to. You'll probably find yourself shorter tempered and more restless, and what you want in a partner may change for the duration." His smile gets a smidge wider. "This is a confusing time of any young man's life, Kurosaki-kun, but you shouldn't worry if you have any... new urges." New urges. New urges. Like he's twelve and just discovering his dick can get hard at inopportune times? He surfaces from his mortification for long enough to scrunch up his face. "That doesn't make any sense," Ichigo protests. "I can't be... doing that. For one, I'm a man." Urahara snaps his fan open just to use it to gesture dramatically, like if he pulls off a flashy enough act Ichigo will somehow resist the temptation to smack him in the face with it. Ichigo will not resist that temptation. "Ah, but these measurements suggest otherwise, Kurosaki-kun. It's not really dependent on sex for hollows, either... they don't reproduce sexually. Besides! Who knows, perhaps there's a lonely hollow love out there just waiting for you to imprint on he — Oof! Ouch!" Ichigo tosses the lightly bloodied fan onto the desk, turns on his heel and stalks towards the shop's entrance. Chad blinks up from his intense staring competition with Jinta, but whatever he sees in Ichigo's face is enough to prevent him from following him. "Aya... my own fan," sighs Urahara behind him. Then he raises his voice, so that what follows Ichigo out into the rainy Kurakara afternoon is: "It's important to keep an open mind, Kurosaki!" "Pass!" Ichigo bellows back.

Anyway I'm going to ruin his life. For fun! :)

Okay, here's what's going on right now:

I was going to name the Ishida/Szayel (Bleach) fic "The Way To The Top" but despite the subject matter it has turned out way less comedic than I thought it would be, so I may have to rename it. Regardless, it's currently 18,000 words long and still somehow going.

The latest Maddieverse fic (Naruto) is "Where The Heart Is" and it's currently 22,000 words long. I am more or less still following the outline and have not run into any sudden debilitating snags. It continues.

That other unnamed Grimmjow/Ichigo (Bleach) fic is 3,000 words long so far. It's intended to be a one shot, but it feels like it's only about 30% done. I don't think I signed up for a 10k word fic but what the hell do I know.

I've also written 2,500 words of a prompt fic in which Maddie meets Sakura but I haven't ended it properly yet. But that also exists, I guess?

[selfinflictedgunshotwound]

sorry for only saying this type of shit lately but i kinda wanna drive a car straight into a brick wall at the highest speed possible

[throwing-roses-into-the-abyss]

unlocked a new diy skill: learned how to drill a hole in wood

[pvremichigan]

Whoopsie time