#kinda about time i did another one of these

[maxinesgun]

sneaky linking with abby ୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

fwb, soft dom!abby, fem!reader, strap sex, fingering (r!receiving), rough/rushed sex. wc 0.8k ᡣ𐭩

a/n: why do i lowk want to write more of these two?? the dynamic turned out kinda cute lmao

"You sure no one's coming in here?" Abby asked breathlessly as she helped you pull your shirt up over your head and toss it haphazardly aside. You began fumbling clumsily with the button of your pants as Abby's hands flew to her belt, unbuckling it and tugging it off feverishly.

You were both already breathing heavily, stumbling into each other and working to shed your clothes frantically as if you'd die if you waited another moment to touch each other. It had only been two days, but it felt like much longer. Too long.

"I'm sure. It's always empty," you assured her, shoving your jeans down your hips with one hand and pulling her into you with the other, so that both of you fell back against the wall. You were in some kind of storage room that seemed to be forgotten, small and tucked away in a far corner of the Stadium that was never busy. Perfect for your and Abby's... meetings.

Abby grunted a little as she collided with you, her hands immediately roaming hungrily over your bare torso and then dipping straight between your thighs, stroking you over your panties. "Don't know why we couldn't have just gone to my dorm," she muttered, rubbing her fingers over the damp fabric a few more times before shoving her hand under your waistband.

"Because," you panted, releasing a shaky breath as her fingers slipped through your wet folds, her thumb pressing over your clit, "last time we did, Manny almost walked in on you fucking me on your desk. Or did you forget?"

"We're not talking about Manny right now," she grunted, bracing an arm on the wall beside your head and leaning almost flush against you as she worked you. Her gaze was zeroed in on your breasts spilling out of your lacy bra, the sight clearly working her up.

"Right. Sorry." Not the time. You hooked a leg around her waist to allow her better access, your hands anchoring themselves on her thick biceps.

She thrusted two fingers inside you then, and your hips involuntarily arched into her touch, a soft moan falling from your lips. You were so slick with arousal that they slipped in easily, that your pussy made a squelching sound as she fucked you with them, curling them repeatedly into that tender spot as her thumb circled your clit.

"God—so fucking tight," she breathed, more to herself than you. She was looking down at the motion of her hand, at your hips rolling against her, her breathing growing heavier.

Your face had begun to screw up in response to the mounting pleasure, head tilting back against the wall and lips parted as her fingers thrusted into you, stretching you just right. Gradually, she sped up, and when the flaring heat started to become too intense, your grip tightened on her arm.

"Mph—need it, Abby," you moaned. When she continued her ministrations, apparently too caught up in the feel of you around her, you let out a strained groan. "Abs, fuck, please."

With a low sound, she pulled her fingers out of you, sucking the taste of you off her before hurriedly undoing her pants. "Turn around," she ordered, and you were quick to comply, turning and placing your hands against the wall.

You heard the sound of her zipper, the shuffling of her pants, and then your panties were violently tugged down, something nudging against your backside. A soft moan of anticipation fell from your lips, but you were both equally desperate, and you didn't have to wait long. The tip of the strap dragged along the slick of your entrance, Abby gripped your hips, positioning you, and then entered you with a firm thrust, filling you all at once.

The rhythmic sounds of her hips snapping against you filled the space, each one hard, unrelenting, pushing you up against the wall. You felt her warm breaths hitting your neck, heard the barely-restrained grunts in between her panting in your ear.

"Mm—mmph, Abby," you moaned out, because you knew hearing her name on your lips like that, all whiney and borderline pornographic, drove her insane—not that she'd ever admitted it. Sure enough, her grip on your hip tightened, and a guttural moan spilled out of her as her thrusts grew faster. You bit your lip against a smirk, reminding yourself in your blissed-out haze to tease her about it later.

"F-Fuck, take it," she huffed in your ear, each little whimper, each sweet sound she fucked out of you spurring her on. "So fuckin' good for me, baby."

It wasn't long before your breaths were stuttering, face scrunched in ecstasy as the heat in your core coiled tighter and tighter. With a muffled cry, you tumbled over the edge almost at the same time as Abby, cheek pressed against the wall and mouth hanging open in undisguised pleasure.

She slumped forward against you for a moment, catching her breath, before slowly pulling out of you, leaving you feeling empty. You turned, leaning back against the wall with shaky-feeling legs, watching her silently begin to dress. When she glanced up at you, you raised your brows at her.

"Baby?"

"Shut up," she muttered, cheeks turning pink.

[ohthecalamity]

Year 6. 10 years old. Mrs M. Spelling class.

to set the scene:

the teacher, Mrs M, only liked Neat-Haired Dancer Kids That Are Seen, Not Heard (you know the type).

I was uncoordinated, opinionated, outspoken & articulate, and hated combing my hair. (aka: autistic). She did not like me.

Mrs M was nothing but nice to her Favourites. She gave them compliments, extra help, lots of leeway with homework & grades.

But those she didn't like? She tried her utmost to make their lives miserable. She loved mercilessly ripping into any & all academic insecurities, making people hate themselves. (I'm willing to bet a lot of my classmates left with lasting psychological damage.)

Fortunately, I did not value her opinion. I realised pretty quick she was not ruled by logic or truth.

In year 6, we had weekly spelling tests. And if there's one thing I've always known, it's words. So my answers were consistently correct, and she haaated it. I didn't give her anything to sink her teeth into.

So week after week, she had to bear it. Be an Objective Teacher, as per the marking schedule. She was openly fuming. I tbh enjoyed it.

One week, though, she must have had enough. Like usual, I brought up my (all correct) spelling sheet. She glanced through it....peeked up at me....looked back down at the sheet....and gave me a zero.

Why?

'Because you started all the words with a CAPITAL LETTER. And these words aren't ALWAYS written CAPITALISED.'

I had always capitalised them in the past, and never been marked down for this. I know for a fact at least a few of my classmates did the same. And not to mention: that's an incredibly dumb thing to nitpick???

I was angry, obviously, but there is only so much a year 6 can argue in the face of someone like Mrs M, no matter how stubborn they are. So I finally went screw it, ok, I'll do this her way. Why not. I still know I'm right.

Fast forward to next week: spelling test, same deal, all correct. And this time, all lowercase, too. And what did she give me?

Another zero.

Why?

'because, if you put a word on a NEW LINE, it should ALWAYS be CAPITALISED.'

other things mrs m has done (hall of fame):

yelled at me for "throwing a chair" when it (after being put up for the end of the day) fell off a table of its own accord. It was not my chair, nor even at my table group. also, I was sitting down and reading halfway across the room

she decided she didn't like one of her previous Favourites (for reasons I won't get into) and yelled at her for an extended period of time. why? because she finished something early, and asked what work she should do next. How unforgiveable...

we did one of those "make super super detailed how-to instructions like for a computer" assignments, and she shouted at me (I sense a theme) for being 'too detailed'.

Oh, and once I yawned, and she shouted at me for that!! Thinking back, a lot of my year 6 was getting shouted at while trying not to laugh. I did openly laugh at her a couple of times. Her reaction was always even funnier. (I really tried not to provoke her though--don't get me wrong. I don't love yelling. Well, nobody does. But specifically, it's loud, and I'm autistic... anyway)

and oh. oh yeah. she told my old friend she was 'too silly' and 'obnoxious to be around', and 'will never be taken seriously in life if she keeps going on like that'. It got to her. It really got to her. She was never quite as joyful/carefree after that talk.

I think of Mrs M as a joke, a place to mine for funny conversation material. She was something I never took seriously, that I kinda enjoyed thwarting. But other people, people in the same class, got actually hurt by her. Had long-lasting effects from all her nonsense.

God, I forgot about that.

when i was a kid i got a 90% on my kindergarten "what are your favorite things?" test because for the question "what is your favorite animal?" i wrote down "puma" and it got marked wrong because my teacher said a puma isnt even an animal its a kind of shoe

[anticipatedexhale]

Hey I love the way you write!!

I was wondering if I could request arcane characters reacting to reader pulling a tiktok prank on them like not saying ily or wiping their kiss or something along those lines I think it would be really funny :3

Hello hello!! Thank you soso much omg this has to be the best compliment ever! Also this idea is so cute omg love it!.

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

Just kidding~~

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋅˚₊‧୨୧

♡ ◞ includes: caitlyn, jayce, jinx, mel, viktor, vi, ekko

☆ ◞ summary: when you wipe their kisses as a joke

△ ◞ warnings: gn! reader.ermmm just fluff lol, really sweet, kinda suggestive (Mel..)

Jayce Talis.

Jayce had always been affectionate. He wasn’t the kind of man to hold back on physical affection—whether it was casual touches, lingering glances, or, most importantly, kisses.

So when he finally caught you in his arms after a long day, he wasted no time. “Missed you,” he murmured against your temple, pressing a soft kiss there.

Then another.

And another.

You let him place a few more before casually lifting your hand… and wiping them away with the back of your sleeve.

Jayce froze.

You barely held back a smirk as he pulled back, blinking in exaggerated offense. “Wait. Did you just—”

You shrugged nonchalantly. “What?”

His lips parted in pure betrayal. “Did you just wipe off my kisses?”

You nodded, fighting the laughter bubbling up in your throat. “Yeah. Had to get rid of the evidence.”

Jayce narrowed his eyes, crossing his arms. “Oh, so that’s how it is, huh?”

You hummed, tilting your head innocently.

Big mistake.

Because before you could react, Jayce lunged. He scooped you up effortlessly, lifting you right off your feet as you yelped in surprise. “JAYCE—”

“Oh no, no, no,” he laughed, grinning like a man with a mission. “Now I really gotta make sure my kisses stick.”

And with that, he attacked—peppering your face with kisses, your cheeks, your nose, your forehead, anywhere he could reach. You squirmed, laughing as you weakly tried to push him away. “Okay—Jayce, stop!”

“Nope.” He grinned against your skin. “Gotta make sure you can’t wipe these off.”

He finally stopped when you were breathless with laughter, setting you down but keeping you close, hands resting on your waist.

“Still wanna wipe ‘em away?” he asked, his voice softer now, eyes warm as he gazed at you.

You smiled, pretending to think about it before leaning up and pressing a kiss to his lips instead. “Nah,” you murmured. “I’ll keep that one.”

Jayce’s grin was radiant as he kissed you back, slow and lingering, his hands pulling you just a little closer.

“Good,” he murmured against your lips. “Because I’m never gonna stop giving them to you.”

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

Mel Medarda.

Mel Medarda was a woman of grace, of control—and yet, when it came to you, she could be unexpectedly affectionate.

Which was why, after a long meeting, she found herself seated beside you on the velvet couch in her private chambers, fingers gently tilting your chin toward her. “You’re awfully quiet today,” she mused, her voice smooth as silk.

Before you could answer, she leaned in, pressing a slow, deliberate kiss to your cheek.

Then another to your temple.

And another, right at the corner of your lips.

You let her linger for a moment before casually lifting your hand—

And wiping them away.

The air in the room shifted.

Mel pulled back just slightly, eyes narrowing ever so subtly as a small, knowing smile curved her lips. “Hmm.”

You met her gaze, feigning innocence. “What?”

Her fingers trailed down your jaw, her nails lightly grazing your skin. “Did you just wipe off my kisses?”

You shrugged, leaning back slightly. “Maybe.”

Mel hummed, considering you. Then, ever so gracefully, she stood, circling around you like a lioness sizing up her prey. “How bold,” she murmured, trailing a single finger across the back of your neck as she passed behind you.

You swallowed. You knew that tone.

Before you could react, she suddenly leaned down, hands pressing onto the couch on either side of you, trapping you beneath her golden gaze. “You do realize,” she whispered, lips brushing your ear, “that you’ve just started a war you cannot win.”

A shiver ran down your spine, but you held your ground, lifting your chin defiantly. “Oh? And what exactly are you going to do about it?”

Mel’s smirk deepened.

Then, in one slow, torturous motion, she kissed your jaw.

Then your cheek.

Then your neck.

Each kiss was softer, slower, more intentional—a silent challenge, a game only she could win.

You tensed, resisting the urge to melt under her touch, knowing exactly what she was doing.

Mel pulled back just slightly, eyes gleaming with amusement. “Go on, then.” She tilted her head, daring you. “Wipe them off.”

You hesitated.

Her smirk widened.

Checkmate.

With a resigned sigh, you slumped back. “Okay, fine. You win.”

Mel chuckled, running a delicate hand through your hair before placing one final, lingering kiss on your lips. “Darling,” she murmured against them, “I always do.”

And this time, you didn’t dare wipe it away.

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

Viktor.

Viktor wasn’t always the most openly affectionate person. His love was quiet, expressed in lingering touches, thoughtful words, and the occasional stolen moment between long hours in the lab.

But tonight, for once, the lab was forgotten. It was just the two of you, curled up on the worn-out couch in his workshop, a rare moment of peace.

He leaned in, pressing a slow kiss to your cheek.

Then another, just beneath your ear.

And, with a rare flicker of playfulness, one to the tip of your nose.

You let him do it, let him savor the moment—before lifting your hand and wiping them away with an exaggerated swipe.

Viktor paused.

Slowly, he pulled back, amber eyes blinking at you in confusion. “Did you just… wipe away my kisses?”

You nodded, barely holding back a grin. “Yep.”

He frowned slightly, tilting his head like he was trying to analyze you. “…Why?”

You shrugged. “Felt like it.”

Viktor stared at you for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Then, very softly, he murmured, “I see.”

And just like that, he started shifting away.

The warmth of his body left yours as he sat back, hands folding in his lap, an unreadable look crossing his face. You immediately felt cold.

Oh no.

You had expected him to pout, to tease you, maybe to try again—but instead, he looked almost defeated. His gaze flickered downward, a quiet, hesitant chuckle escaping him. “I suppose my affections are unwanted then?”

Your heart sank.

“No, no, no—Viktor, it was a joke,” you rushed, reaching for him before he could pull away further.

He blinked, clearly taken aback by your sudden shift in urgency. “A… joke?”

You nodded, grabbing his hands tightly. “I love your kisses.” You softened, guilt creeping into your voice. “I just wanted to mess with you a little. I didn’t mean to make you think I didn’t want them.”

Viktor was quiet for a moment, letting your words sink in. Then, ever so slowly, his lips curled into a small, knowing smile. “…So, you do want them?”

You huffed. “Yes, obviously.”

He exhaled, amused, before suddenly tugging you right into his lap. You let out a startled sound as his arms circled you, his face now inches from yours. “Good,” he murmured.

And then, with that same teasing glint in his eye, he leaned in—kissing your cheek, your forehead, your nose, all over again.

You laughed, feeling warm again as he held you close. “Okay, okay! I get it!”

But Viktor didn’t stop. He hummed, pressing one last, lingering kiss to your lips before whispering against them, “I dare you to wipe that one away.”

You didn’t.

You never would.

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Caitlyn kiramman.

Caitlyn wasn’t the type to show affection in extravagant ways. Her kisses were soft, subtle—gentle gestures that spoke more than words ever could.

But when the two of you were alone, she let her guard down just a little bit more. She’d pull you close after a long day of work, her fingers gently cupping your face before pressing a sweet, lingering kiss to your forehead.

“Missed you today,” she’d whisper against your skin, soft and warm.

You smiled, running your fingers through her hair. “I missed you too.”

She pressed another kiss to your nose, then one on each of your cheeks. And then, just as she was about to place a kiss on your lips, you swiped your hand across your face, wiping them away dramatically.

Caitlyn froze.

You let out a small laugh, feigning innocence as you met her wide-eyed gaze. “What? I had to clean off all those kisses. Can’t leave the evidence lying around.”

Her lips parted in mock offense, a glint of amusement dancing in her eyes. “Oh really?”

You nodded, suppressing a smile. “Yep, really.”

Caitlyn shook her head in disbelief, a playful smirk tugging at her lips. “You know what? I think you need to be reminded of how good my kisses are.”

Before you could even respond, she leaned in quickly, catching your lips in a kiss so sweet and slow, it made your heart skip a beat. You tried to pull away, but Caitlyn wouldn’t let you, her hands gently guiding your face back toward hers, sealing you into the kiss.

When she finally pulled back, you were breathless. “I—"

“You’ve made your point,” you teased, trying to sound unaffected, but your cheeks were flushed, and you couldn’t help the smile that tugged at your lips.

Caitlyn’s grin was full of triumph. “Good.” She pressed another quick kiss to your nose before leaning back and crossing her arms. “Now, I think we need to go to the kitchen to finish what we started.”

“Finish…?”

“The game of ‘who can kiss who first without getting wiped away,’ of course,” she said, her eyes sparkling with playful competitiveness.

You sighed, pretending to roll your eyes, but the truth was—you didn’t mind at all. You could never get enough of Caitlyn’s kisses.

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

Vi.

Vi had a tendency to be the type to show affection through actions rather than words. A hand on your shoulder after a hard day, a little wink, or a lingering touch. But there were moments—like now—when she let her guard down completely.

It had been a long day, full of tense meetings and far too many difficult conversations. Now, as the sun dipped below the horizon and the two of you found yourselves on the balcony of her apartment, the city lights flickering like tiny stars below you, Vi’s shoulders relaxed for the first time all day.

She leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek, then another one to your temple.

“Been thinking about you all day,” she murmured, her voice low and comforting.

You grinned, leaning into the kiss, but as she went for a third, this time on the corner of your lips, you quickly wiped them away with a swift swipe of your hand.

Vi paused, a little caught off guard. “Did you just—”

You smiled mischievously, holding back a laugh. “What? You had some lipstick on, I needed to clean it up.”

She stared at you for a moment, eyebrow raised, before an almost wicked grin spread across her face. “Oh, I see how it is.”

You blinked, confused for a second, before she grabbed your wrist, gently but firmly. Before you could react, Vi pulled you closer, pressing a quick, playful kiss to your lips.

“What’s the matter?” she teased, her voice full of amusement. “Didn’t want me kissing you? I can always go for a few more.”

You started to say something, but before you could, she placed kiss after kiss all over your face—your cheeks, your forehead, your nose—until you couldn’t help but burst into laughter, trying in vain to wipe them away.

“Vi! Stop!” you chuckled, half-heartedly swiping at your face as she grinned in victory.

She laughed, her strong arms wrapping around you, holding you close, a warmth radiating from her that had nothing to do with the city lights. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said, her voice turning softer, almost fond. “You’ve got a perfect face for kisses, and I’m gonna make sure you remember that.”

You melted into her embrace, the playful teasing mixed with something deeper—something that made your heart skip a beat.

And, despite your best efforts to wipe them away, you didn’t mind one bit.

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

Jinx.

Jinx was never one for subtlety, especially when it came to how she felt about you. Her love was loud, chaotic, and sometimes downright unpredictable. But that was part of what made her so Jinx—so impossible to ignore.

Tonight was no different. After an eventful day filled with explosions, fireworks (literally), and a few too many close calls, Jinx found herself in a surprisingly calm moment with you. The two of you were sprawled out on the couch, watching the flickering neon lights of the city outside, a bag of candy between you as you both snacked and shared stories.

She looked over at you, a mischievous glint in her eye, before launching herself at you suddenly.

“Mwah!” Jinx planted a big, messy kiss on your cheek, smacking it loudly.

You blinked, laughing as you wiped your cheek dramatically. “What was that for?”

“Oh, nothing,” she said, grinning ear to ear. “Just felt like it.”

Before you could say anything else, she pressed another kiss to your forehead—this time, even more exaggerated, leaving a sticky trace of candy on your skin.

You sighed in mock annoyance, wiping your forehead as if it was covered in goo. “Jinx, seriously.”

“Oh, no! Don’t wipe it off!” She gasped, leaping back to hold your hands away. “I spent all this time planning my kiss attack and you're just gonna—”

You couldn’t help but laugh at her dramatics. “What attack? You just kissed me!”

But Jinx wasn’t about to let it go. With a mischievous glint in her eye, she leaned in again, this time aiming for your lips.

You had just enough time to react and swipe your hand across your lips, wiping away the kiss before it could land.

She froze, staring at you in exaggerated shock. “Did you—did you just wipe my kiss away?!”

You bit your lip, trying not to laugh. “I didn’t want your lipstick all over me.”

“Lipstick?! Are you kidding? I don’t wear lipstick! It’s my love, dummy!” she protested, a wild sparkle dancing in her eyes.

“Sure, sure,” you teased, wiping your lips again just to mess with her.

Jinx pouted for a second before her playful nature kicked back in. “Alright then. If you wanna play dirty, so be it.” She pressed her face against yours in a flurry of chaotic kisses, planting them on your cheeks, nose, chin—everywhere—until you were laughing too hard to keep wiping them away.

“Jinx! Stop! You’re getting my face all wet!”

“Nope!” she replied gleefully, her wild hair bouncing around as she grinned like she had just won some grand victory. “You started this, now you gotta finish it!”

In the end, you gave up, letting her have her fun. There was no way you’d win against Jinx when she was like this—wild and unpredictable, but so full of love in her own explosive way.

And honestly? You wouldn’t have it any other way.

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Ekko.

It wasn’t unusual for you and Ekko to find small moments of peace in the chaos that surrounded your lives. Despite the constant hustle of the city, there were times when everything just slowed down. Tonight was one of those times.

The two of you sat on the roof of one of Ekko’s safehouses, looking out over the lights of the city as the evening breeze played with your hair. It was quiet, serene even. The perfect kind of night for some simple moments of affection.

Ekko smiled softly as he leaned in close, brushing a strand of hair away from your face. "You know," he started, his voice low and warm, "I’ve been thinking… I really like these moments with you. Just us, you know?"

You smiled back at him, feeling your heart flutter. “Me too.”

In an instant, his lips pressed gently to your cheek, soft and warm. He lingered for a second, just enjoying the closeness before pulling back, his hand still resting against your face.

You reached up and dramatically wiped the spot where he kissed you. "Mmm, I think I got something on my cheek," you teased, pretending to be serious.

Ekko blinked in surprise, before chuckling, his expression full of amusement. “What, you’re wiping off my kiss?”

You gave him an exaggerated pout. “Yeah, I think it was a little too much. I mean, I did just wash my face, Ekko.”

His face fell for a moment, the playful energy turning into mock hurt. “I see how it is… You’re rejecting my love.”

You laughed, giving him an apologetic look. “No, no, I’m just—”

Before you could finish, Ekko leaned in quickly, planting a kiss on your nose. You swiped at your nose instinctively, as if you could stop the kiss from sticking.

"Hey!" he protested, raising an eyebrow, a mischievous smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "What’d I tell you about rejecting my kisses?"

You grinned, wiping your nose again. “I wasn’t rejecting them, just, um, cleaning them off."

Ekko rolled his eyes, but the playful sparkle in his gaze was unmistakable. He leaned in once more, this time pressing a quick kiss to your lips before you could do anything about it.

“You can wipe it off,” he teased, grinning widely as he pulled back, “but you won’t get rid of it that easily.”

You laughed, your heart warming at the way he could always make you feel so lighthearted, so at ease. “I didn’t want to wipe it off, Ekko,” you said softly, leaning into his chest. "I just wanted to see how you’d react."

Ekko’s grin softened, his arms wrapping around you as he held you close. “You know I’ll always kiss you, no matter what. Even if you pretend to wipe them off a hundred times.”

You snuggled against him, your heart full of affection. "I know, Ekko. I know."

Hello my lovelies! I really hope you enjoy this! It was much shorter than I expected it to be...but I hope it's enough for you guys, I chose wiping away the kisses because I found the ideas to be much more hilarious, but if you'd like to see me doing the other one I would love to!! <33

[slapmeshigaraki]

౨ৎ "Are you scared, sweetheart?" ౨ৎ

♡ warnings: meanie!sylus x reader, spit, gunplay, daddy, condescension, improper evol use lmao, actually pretty tame ngl the dirty talk is kinda gross though, sylus is out of character in this in case that bothers you

♡ a/n: okay i lied and said i wasn't posting this until later in the week, but i finished editing it early so... idk happy valentine's day i guess. another old fic that i just edited. enjoy pretties !!

♡ Sylus doesn't ask you for much other than to leave him alone for a few hours on Sundays so he can clean his gun collection, but after a few interruptions too many, he decides that you can stick around just this once. Afterall, maybe you can help? ♡

“What is it?” he said after letting out a deep sigh, not bothering to look up at you through the lenses of his glasses. They sat loosely against the bridge of his nose as he looked down at his lap, softly polishing one of his most prized possessions: a gun. You weren’t sure whose death he’d pictured on the other end of it, but he treated it like the last bite of dessert, savoring it, keeping it hidden away for a special occasion. No one could touch it, look at it, breathe on it, except him. When Luke and Kieran gave you your first tour of the house, they wouldn’t even walk you down the hallway of the safe, scared that ‘Boss would smell your scents when he returned.’ It wasn’t until months later when he’d decided that your firearm wasn’t up to par any longer that he’d invited you in to 'shop' for a new one. That’s when you saw it, hung up on the wall in a glass case so high that only he could reach. It was wrapped in a fine silk fabric, a pristine black cherry gun whose make or model was so far beyond your pay grade that you’d never heard of it before.

Every Sunday he disappears into the safe for hours before dinner. He was not to be disturbed. It was the only thing that he was really particular about, but he needed it just to clear his head—some solace after a long week. So, the fact that you were interrupting him for the third time with a knock on the door was grating, to say the least.

“Nothing I just-“

“Is something on fire, darling?”

“No, Sylus.”

“Has someone managed to break into the house?”

“No.”

“Has Mephisto spontaneously combusted, leaving a feather lodged into one of your eyes?”

“No.”

“So, you can clearly see that I’m busy? Then I’ll ask again, what is it that you need?” His eyes still wouldn’t meet yours, eyebrows furrowing as he spoke, his tone strained.

“I just wanted to know if you wanted rice or mashed potatoes for dinner, but since you’re so caught up in tending to an inanimate object, I’ll decide for you.” He was snippier than usual, the darkening of his voice making it obvious he was not in the mood for witty banter.

“Be careful there, sweetheart. I’d hate for that pretty mouth to get you into trouble.”

“Or what? Will you get trigger happy and let that precious gun go off? No, of course not because we must keep it clean for a hypothetical threat that doesn’t fucking exist.”

“Kneel.” It wasn’t a question or a suggestion. It was a command, an order barked at an underling.

“Go fuck yourself,” You said, venom in your voice as you made a move back towards the door, hand clenched around the golden handle.

“If you make me get up to come catch you sweetheart, you’ll be sorry.” His eyes met yours for the first time, a fiery crimson illuminating your line of vision. His gaze was dark, challenging you to disobey him. When Sylus told someone to do something, they did it and you were no exception. You might bite back once in a while, but he always knew that you’d do what he told you to at the end of the day.

So, you kneeled, perhaps too slowly because it wasn’t before long that your knees were forced to buckle beneath you, Sylus making good use of his evol to bind your ankles together. The cool marble tile flooring chilled your flesh as your heartbeat ran wild, your mouth getting wetter with each second, practically drooling as if you were waiting to sink your teeth into your favorite meal. In the same breath, your hands were bound as well, moved behind your back against your will and stuck together like glue.

“Go on, crawl to me.” There was amusement staining his expression, a sinister smirk plastered across his face.

“What’s wrong, pretty girl? Can’t you get to me? A big strong girl like you with such a dirty mouth, surely you can move just a few feet on your own.” You relaxed your legs, letting your knees spread apart to rest them.

“I can’t…” You mumbled under your breath, unable to meet his glare any longer.

“Speak up, pet. You were so loud a few moments ago. Speak to me with that same tough voice now that you can't run away from me.” His slender fingers kept moving, cleaning the trophy with such grace. It was rhythmic, methodical, and calculated. It made you wet just to watch him, reminding you of how easily those same fingers could make you fall apart in his arms.

“I can’t move.”

“You can’t move?” he whined, pouting, mocking you without remorse.

“Well, I want you kneeling in front of me. So how do you suggest you get over here, sweetie?”

“Sylus…” You pled, which was slightly better than flat out begging.

“Tsk tsk, where are our manners?” The same red mist that bound your wrists and ankles now curled around your throat, not hesitating to squeeze abruptly, threatening to rob you of all of your air altogether.

“Please sir, help me.” Without letting another second pass, you were pulled into the air and inched over to him by the mist, roughly thrown back to the ground before him. His legs were spread in his seated position, gun resting on one, the other resting between your thighs.

“Thank you,” You said, hanging your head to avoid meeting his eyes.

“Aw, so polite. See what happens when you ask nicely? See how sweet I can be when you aren't a fucking brat?” With that, his foot adjusted, the tip of his perfectly polished leather shoe gently pressed against your core. You struggled not to writhe against him, desperately needing some form of friction to soothe the ache between your legs.

“Look at me, darling.” You did. The fervent desire in your eyes obvious, bottom lip bloody from biting it so hard, restraining yourself from any more unnecessary commentary.

“You look so needy like this, my foot pressed against your cunt, pouting underneath me. You look like you want to ask me for something? What is it, baby? Do you need something from your daddy, hm?” A whine fell from between your lips against your control as you tensed your legs, begging them not to move without permission.

“Please can I- can you fuck me please?”

“Can I fuck you? Do you think that I should dirty myself--” the hold on your neck tightened once more, “by fucking someone so pathetic that they’re getting off at the thought of grinding on my leg? Someone who can’t go a few hours without my attention shouldn’t get my cock inside of them. Someone like that shouldn’t get to feel my cum filling them up and spilling out of their tight little holes. They shouldn’t get to feel daddy’s tongue cleaning them up, kissing and sucking every inch on their pretty little pussy, should they?” You couldn’t get yourself to say no, but you knew yes wasn’t what he wanted to hear, so you stayed quiet. The cool sensation of metal burned your skin in an instant, tilting your jaw up, forcing your vision toward to ceiling, your eyes getting lost in the gold detailing of the mural above. Silence filled the space between you two, the only sound to be heard was the quickening of your heartbeat and the flip of the gun’s safety that was pressed against your flesh. A lump grew in your throat at the noise. You could feel the sole of his shoe pressing into you even more, gently moving back and forth as you bit your lip again.

“Let me hear you, baby. Tell daddy how good it feels, go on.”

“Th- Thank you daddy. That feels so good.”

“Say ‘thank you daddy for making my cunnie feel good.” You whined at the request, embarrassment causing tears to prick and sting at the corners of your eyes.

“You don’t want to use your words? How ungrateful.” It wasn’t long before the coolness against your jaw was gone. You dropped your gaze to look at him once again. The man before you was starved, his face void any sign of amusement. You wondered if this is what his prey felt when he looked at them, a lamb waiting to be eaten by the lion, forced to let him play with his food before he could be thoroughly satiated. He put the barrel of the gun against your lips now, his thumb languidly dancing on the trigger.

“Open up for me. Let me see that pretty tongue.” You hesitantly stuck your tongue out, the spit that had been building up in your mouth finally free to drip onto the metal as he pushed the barrel against the back of your throat. Your eyes widened at the sensation, the realization that his prized possession was being soiled by your drool far too humiliating. The tears flowed freely now. Your cheeks grew damp as you cried out against the obstruction in your mouth.

“Aw sweetheart, are you crying? Do you want to push your hips against me? Will that make your cunnie feel better?” You nodded, sniffling softly as you shifted uncomfortably, the realization that you couldn’t move at all finally catching up with you.

“Go ahead, hump my leg. You have permission. Make yourself feel good for daddy.” You tried to do as he asked, moving your hips slowly back and forth, the ache only growing in between your legs, but all you could think about was how dirty that gun was getting your mouth. Sobs fell from your lips now. His face contorted slightly at your cries.

“M-s-sorry daddy,” You struggled out, words muffled by the metal. He slowly pulled the gun out of your mouth,

“Are you scared, sweetheart? Is that why you’re dirtying this pretty face with tears, hm?” You felt his skin for the first time against yours, his free hand gently caressing your cheek, thumb making small circles on your flesh.

“No I just… I hate that I’m getting your gun dirty. I know how much you care about it. I’m sorry I just can’t stop drooling on it.” His fingers softly pressed under your eyes, catching the tears.

“Your spit is the sweetest thing I could use to clean this gun. It’s just an inanimate object, huh?" he said, being sure to use your choice of words exactly.

"Don’t cry pretty girl.” As he spoke, your wrists and ankles fell freely, the stress on your throat lifting as the red mist fell away.

“Come up here,” he said, fingers beckoning for you to stand and sit in his lap, your back pressed against his warm and muscular chest. Hooking his arm under your knee, he spread your legs apart, resting your ankle over the arm of the chair. His fingers wasted no time finding their way beneath your skirt, softly pulling the satin fabric of your panties to the side as he slipped a finger inside of you without warning.

“Oh my god,” You moaned out desperately as he hummed in amusement.

“I’m jealous. Your god is getting all of the praise, but I’m the one that's making this pussy leak all over my fingers. That doesn’t seem very fair now, does it?”

“Fuck, daddy thank you.” His pace quickened, every inch of his long and slender fingers making you gasp and writhe beneath his touch as you bucked against his palm.

“You are very welcome sweet girl. Next time you want daddy’s attention, you can just ask and we can skip all the theatrics, hm?”

“Yes, daddy.”

“Aw, ‘yes, daddy. Thank you, daddy.'” Such pretty words from such a dirty mouth. The same mouth that stained my gun, isn’t that right?” he said. You threw your head back, squeezing your eyes shut as his thumb rubbed small circles on your clit, your wetness forming a spot on the fine fabric of his pants as you felt his cock growing beneath you. It only made you squirm more at the thought of its thickness filling you up after being empty throughout this whole ordeal.

“Relax for me.” This was the only warning you got before you felt that same cool metal slide between your folds, the ridges of the firearm serving as a new source of friction to grind on before Sylus slid his finger out of your walls, replacing it with the tip of the gun against your entrance. He felt you tense up immediately in his grasp.

“No no no,” he said, thumb gently caressing your inner thigh, his touch burning you with ease.

“Relax baby. Let daddy’s pussy open up for him, hm? I just want that sweet little hole’s juices to cleanse my gun thoroughly.” Your mouth hung open, moans escaping as he spoke. Your head rested against his shoulder, hair messily rubbing against his shirt. He pressed his soft lips against your forehead.

“That’s it, puppy. Gooood fucking girl, you're taking it so well for me, huh sweetheart?” his fingers found your clit once more, melting away any tension. Slowly, the tip of the gun pushed its way between your tender walls, your flesh clenching around it tightly, making it hard for him to slide it in and out of you.

“That’s a greedy pussy, isn’t it— holding onto anything that it can, my fingers, my cock, my tongue, my gun. She just wants to be filled, hm? She just loves daddy so much that anything he puts inside, she doesn’t want to let go of?”

“Y-yes daddy, she loves you. Please please please keep touching her.” So, he did. Slowly but surely, he pushed the metal in and out, salivating as he watched the way your flesh gripped on to the tip before he’d shove it back inside.

“Fuck--you wanna cum for me? Gonna make a big mess all over daddy’s gun, sweetheart? How fucking filthy,” You nodded as Sylus’s rough hands gripped your jaw, forcing you to look up at him. Without warning, his spit filled your open mouth, slowly dripping from between your lips, coating your chest.

“Don’t swallow it. Keep my spit in your mouth when you cum for me. Stick your tongue out and cum all over me like a good little puppy,” He sped up even more now, the tip of the gun pushing against that spot inside of you that made your body heat up like white lightning that was trapped in a bottle and begging to be let out. He hit that spot over and over again, making your head fuzzy as he held your gaze captive with his scarlet eyes.

“Daddy—fuck—please, I don’t think I can take it.” You panicked, your hand desperately reaching for his wrist, hoping for some freedom from the incessant pleasure only for the mist to trap you once again, binding your hands up above your head and around Sylus’s neck, pressing your bodies even closer together.

“Shit—you’re so wet, you’re making a puddle in my lap. Are you gonna squirt around my gun, baby?” He said, emphasizing his point with a sharp push of the metal against you g-spot.

“No I- I can’t. It’s too embarrassing please don’t make me.”

“Come on, listen to your daddy and let go all over me. Squirt, cum, cry, I don’t care, but I’m gonna pull it all out of you either way. So, give it to me, it’s mine. I worked so hard for it,” he said, fingers finding their way into your open mouth, but you didn’t dare close your lips around them, just letting the spit drip down onto yourself and he bullied your pussy over and over again until you just couldn’t take it anymore. Tears streamed from your eyes once more as you let go. Your wetness spilled all over his lap, pulling guttural screams from your throat that were muffled by his hands.

“Good girl, that’s it. Come on, let go for daddy, baby. Poor baby, so pent up. It must feel so good to let go now, huh?” Streams of ‘yes’ and ‘thank you’ echoed through the room, bouncing off the walls as you squirmed against his grasp. He pressed his full lips to your face again as he pulled his finger and his firearm from your holes slowly. You watched him with tired eyes, as you were covered in your own wetness. The gun dripped with your juices, but he wasted no time putting the metal to his own mouth this time, flattening his tongue against the barrel of the gun and licking it clean.

“You are the sweetest thing I’ve ever tasted, sweetheart. Maybe you should let you help me clean my guns more often.” Dazed, and far too exhausted to protest, you closed your eyes, resting your head against him once again, your hands finally free. He pressed small kisses against your sweaty face, gently brushing any hair from your skin before you spoke up again.

“T-thank you, Sylus.”

“The pleasure is all mine, pretty girl.”

[whoskimii]

BITE IT, LICK IT !

★ biting him ft. nanami ! ★

˖˚₊ warnings ⋆. 𐙚 ˚ fluff, you bite him (affectionately), brief mention of sex, he kinda has a biting kink.

˖˚₊ wc ⋆. 𐙚 ˚ 632 (so short, mb :3)

with the tip of his finger, nanami pushed his glasses up his nose. as he continued staring intently at the screen of his computer, a quiet groan of frustration left his lips.

he quickly typed away something on the keyboard singlehandedly — his other hand was too busy gently gliding up and down your back. he was trying to soothe you.

you were pretty grouchy about him working for such an important amount of time. not even for you — although, yes, you wanted your husband to pay attention to you — it was mostly for his health and well-being.

once the blond man was locked in his work, nothing could distract him.

nothing.

not even you.

most of the time, you had to physically pull him out of the chair he was currently sitting on. you couldn't even recount how many times you ended up massaging his sore muscles. “ken...” you whined out, still straddling him.

just a few minutes ago, he had carefully placed your chin over his shoulder because you were blocking his view of the computer. “i know, darling,” he shushed tenderly. “almost done, i promise.”

with a huff, you allowed your pretty eyes to flutter shut. “you said that an hour ago. 'm done believing you.” although he wanted to reassure you, the words you had just spoken caused a quiet chuckle to slip from his throat. “i know. i'm sorry, my love.”

you loved your husband. more than anything. but he was definitely playing with your nerves. “i'm pissed right now.” you murmured to yourself. even though he heard you, he typed something new.

you felt his hand running through your hair, almost as if he desired to keep you calm. “in a few minutes.” he whispered, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear.

you made sure to keep your chin hooked over his shoulder, being mindful not to distract him from his work as you pouted — even though all you wished to do was to distract him.

in one way or another.

out of a sudden, a mischievous idea formed in your head, and your soft lips curled up in a gentle smirk. kento sighed as he felt you leaving little kisses on his throat, up to his neck. instinctively, he tilted his head to the side, baring his own neck to your affection.

once you had finally reached the sensitive skin of his neck, your teeth tenderly sank in his epidermis.

you felt his confusion as he paused. “baby ? what was that ?” you pulled away, admiring the way your teeth had left a mark. “jus' biting you.” kento produced a gentle scoff. “mhm, i felt that. what for ?”

your eyes met his, and you offered him an innocent smile. “what ? can't bite my hubby if i want to ?” a quiet huff left him, and he pushed his glasses up again — although they weren't falling from his nose, this time.

the sorcerer had a habit of doing that whenever you flustered him. after four years of successful marriage, you noticed this little thing about your husband. you found it cute and often teased him for it. “aw, you flustered ?” he frowned, a sight you were familiar with. “me ? flustered ? no. absolutely not.”

a hum escaped your throat. “you sure ? you did... y'know, that lil' thing you always do with your glasses when you're flustered.” he shrugged. “mhm ? no, they were just falling.” you graced him with a fond giggle. “ken, 'm not dumb !”

a tired smile appeared on your husband's face. “alright, alright... i did like it. you should bite me more often, honey. especially in bed.”

this time, you were the flustered one. you tucked your face in the crook of his neck. “ken !”

however, you weren't going to pass on that offer.

based off this ask.

[jjslvt]

UNDERWATER KISS ── .✦ tooth-rotting fluff .ᐟ.ᐟ

[bsf!jj maybank x fem!reader]

notes: i really wanted to post this for valentine’s day but couldn’t wait (also the pic, not mine & i prefer using screenshots of the show & making icons but that kinda looks like him so it goes lol)

imagine being best friends with the pogues and jj maybank being the one you were the closest with. you all had known each other for years and were almost like a family.

well, except you and jj?

the pogues knew that both you and jj had been pining after each other for a while. the two of you being oblivious to the other’s feelings, despite how damn touchy & clingy y’all are. the rest of them were just waiting for something to happen.

one random sunny day; the pogues were picking you up on the boat and jj instantly greeted you like a puppy who waited for his owner. he softened up more because of you, you were his exception to letting walls down — his happiness. the others knew that their best friend had met his damn soulmate because you helped bring these sides out.

on the boat, he’d sit right next to you — latch himself to your side, putting an arm around your shoulder and you didn’t mind. because he was also your comfort person, it had all just fell into place naturally and you both relaxed. the other pogues would share knowing looks at how you two were practically glued to the hip, giving secret smiles. they all wondered when you two would finally realize the true meaning of that profound bond.

jj knew he liked you, a lot. maybe even more than just like. you’re his person, he feels that. for once, he was very aware of his feelings and had processed them — trying to keep them secret but it was hard for the boy. especially with how he couldn’t stop himself from attaching to you, physically needing to be near you. he just hadn’t figured out if it was mutual but today in particular, he felt like he was struggling to contain it fully.

at one point, he pulled you onto his lap so you could lean on his chest. his arms wrapped around your waist and his chin rested on your shoulder. you had started flushing a tiny bit to which he couldn’t see but the rest of the crew did and snickered to themselves.

but as time went on, you all talked and joked around, enjoying the time together and feeling so free in this moment. it was the perfect chill day, despite you and jj feeling your hearts race because you two stayed in that position.

he was feeling ready to burst, to push the boundaries a bit more plus it wouldn’t be jj if he wasn’t teasing you somewhat. that was still in his true nature (and you loved it). so he started tickling your sides a bit, bantering with you at times. then he really surprised you by blowing a puff of air right into your ear which made you squirm and shift in his lap. he got a kick out of that.

though he couldn’t deny his heart skipped a beat at your reaction, wondering if maybe… he had a chance.

“what’s wrong, princess?” he chuckled, his tone teasing and smug as he whispered in your ear, only making you more sensitive.

“n-nothing, you brat.” you had huffed out, trying to regain yourself as you felt hot and a flutter of butterflies parade in your tummy. though you grimaced slightly at the way you stuttered and he started smirking to himself.

still pressed behind you, he decided to keep his lips near your ear as he blew another round of air into that ear.

“j- jj!!!” you whisper-shouted at him as a pleasant shiver went down your spine from the action and this time, he let out a delightful bark of laughter.

the others quietly stopped whatever they were doing to pay attention to the both of you, john b grinning slowly and thinking… ‘about damn time he starts doing something about his feelings.’

john b couldn’t help but add onto it, to push you out a little more and give jj more egging on to continue, “y/n, why is your face so red?”

you snapped your gaze in his direction for outing you like that, sending him a glare while sarah and kiara started giggling quietly.

pope chimed in, “damn, he’s right… interesting shade of red there.”

meanwhile jj’s hold on you suddenly got tighter when he heard his friends. his laughter dying down as he moved his head over your shoulder, turning fully to the side to get a look of that flush himself, feeling all too joyous.

“awe, princess is blushing? why’s that?” he murmured with the same playful tone but there was something tender in there too. he felt hopeful. which all went over your head as you were still somewhat embarrassed.

“oh my god, you’re all annoying!” you practically whined & pouted, trying to squirm out of his grasp now as you refused to turn your face near his (since you thought your heart would explode at the proximity).

the pogues laughed but jj kept his lock on you, unable to stop the urge to go further — feeling the swell of confidence. his lips grazing your ear as that turned red too, “calm down, baby. don’t get upset. do i gotta tickle you again?”

his ‘baby’ sounded a bit different this time and suddenly you found yourself wondering if he wasn’t just fooling around but before any more thoughts or reactions could come out of you, he DID start tickling again. right after he nipped your ear just a tiny bit, making your eyes widen.

your brain was a mess of short-circuits as his fingers tickled your sides so hard. you started thrashing against him — laughing so hard that you couldn’t breathe, tears had formed and the others died too.

“j- jay… s-st— HAHA, sto- STOP!” you barely choked out the words between laughs and minor frustrations. as he heard your state, his relentlessness finally slowed and started taking a pause to let you recover but your frustration was rushing through.

many types of frustrations.

you quickly separated from him and stood up, trying to catch your breath and he followed (of course), standing up with you as you turned around to face him.

‘goddamn… you don’t know how fucking beautiful you are…’ jj thought to himself.

staring back with a tilted head; his eyes going dreamily half-lidded as he felt the air leave his lungs. he liked that you looked riled up — that crimson color painted on your face like art, the way your hair had gotten a bit messy, your lips parted to let out breaths. just everything about you… he thought was more than stunning.

he couldn’t help but give a soft smirk (your final straw). that’s when YOU took on a spontaneous turn, surprising him as you lunged towards him — throwing you both off the boat and right into the water.

not that he minded, he loved how you could surprise him at times though the others instantly lifted up — trying to look over and find you two, “woah!!”

once your bodies hit the water, you two had dove quite a bit from the impact… your brain was replaying that smirk. and remembering the way he had held you, the air blows and that damn nip on your ear. you couldn’t take it anymore.

you quickly grabbed his face as you two stayed under the water. you crashed your lips against his — he felt like he was dreaming, he couldn’t believe it was happening but it didn’t take many seconds for him to wrap his hands around your waist, pull you closer and kiss you with an equal passion. all the pent up desires and affections the two of you had felt for each other had erupted in the kiss.

it felt like time itself had slowed down… nothing was heard under the bliss of the waterscape and luckily, it wasn’t cold. instead it felt like you two were frozen in a perfect moment. just you and jj, nobody else around — except the cute little fish floating by. the scene looking ethereal as your hair flowed, like a mermaid. your hands dropped from his cheeks to wrap around his neck while he kept holding you. his body molding to yours and his lips moving eagerly against your lips, savoring how soft yours felt against his.

it was a wet but warm and extremely loving kiss, your first kiss together.

but you two couldn’t stay lip-locked down there. unfortunately, you weren’t a mermaid and merman so once you both needed air, you pulled apart and surfaced up, panting loudly. the others were still hanging over the edge of the boat with shit-eating grins, especially with how jubilant jj looked. it showed very clearly on his facial expressions that the boy just experienced the best thing in the world.

you looked up at them, floating in the water as you caught your breath while jj kept his eyes on you.

kiara spoke with amusement, “you two were down there for a mighty long time.”

john b agreed, “mhm… were you two maybe… oh, i don’t know, smooching?”

you playfully rolled your eyes though your blush returned again.

jj was about to reply with a loud, “ye-”

but you cut him off, a small silly tone, “pssh noo… not at all.”

they shook their heads, still excited and jj’s brows rose up as he heard your cheeky tone. he swam closer, getting right up in your space. his hands under the water grabbing your hips, “no?” he asked you, amused.

you bit your lip, his eyes catching it and feeling another flare of desire rise up within him.

“nope!” you continued your act and he scoffed out a short chuckle.

he spoke loudly for the others to hear, “really? cos i recall a certain princess smashin’ her lips onto mine.” his accent growing a bit stronger.

the others let out whistles, waiting for your reply.

“must have met a mermaid down there, jay.”

“oh, i did… mermaid princess and i think, i gotta remind her what just happened.”

as soon as the words left his mouth, he did exactly what you did under the water. in front of all of them — he proudly captured your lips in a fierce, swift movement. smirking as he heard you gasp out against his mouth… taking the perfect opportunity to deepen the kiss and taste what he had desperately been wanting to for years; the sweetness that was you.

all that was heard were cheers from your friends and sarah yelling in the background, “FINALLY!”

[morganbritton132]

Because one person asked!

Here is how you make a 'Steve Has Superpowers' AU from this post I made about Corroded Coffin ransoming Steve.

I'm not a big fan of this type of AU (despite the fact that I did write one), but I think for it to work (in a way that specifcally appeals to me) is that Steve's power is either completely useless or so subtle that Brenner doesn't think he has one.

Like, El can move things with her mind and Kali can cause hallucinations but Steve can...sense when bad things are going to happen? Not in the sense that he can see the future or that he knows what the bad thing is. It's more like a feeling, like....anxiety.

Steve's superpower is general anxiety.

So, Brenner gets rid of him. He's a failed experiment and a blight on the progress he has made. The whole project could get shuttered because of this kid, so Brenner hands him off to one of his scientist to dispose of. That scientist handed the kid to his sister who wanted a family, not neccessarily a child.

And thus, The Harrington have a son.

They leave Hawkins as they please but the boy - Steve - never does. He's monitored. They keep trace of him in case his powers manifest but they never see it. Never notice how lucky it was that Steve left that party before the police showed up, or that he slammed on his breaks right before a car blew a stop sign, or that he showed up at Jonathan Byers' house at just the right time to save his friends.

Somewhere along the way, someone finds out that Steve isn't exactly who he thinks he is or El shows up and sees the brother she used to know, but everybody finds out. Hopper already has one experiment living under his roof, he'll take another.

And Steve.

Well, he's adopted and his adopted parents don’t give a shit about him, and his 'Papa' didn’t give a shit about him, and probably whoever gave him up the first time didn't give a shit about him either. And if no one can give an ounce of a shit about him, then why shouldn't he ruin their lives?

So when the Corroded Coffin boys kidnap him, something kinda snaps in Steve in the funniest way. He doesn't feel anything here. His chest isn't tight. He doesn't feel heat behind his eyes. He's safer here as a hostage than he ever was at home, and he wants to keep that.

When the boys say they need money. Yeah, Steve can get them money. All he has to do is stand in front of the keypad at his dad's office and see if he feels nervous before pressing a button.

When they say they're going to Chicago? Steve's never left Hawkins before but Chicago settles in his chest shiny and new, and he wants that too. So, he goes.

They practice a new song on the way that makes Steve feel electric. He insists they play it and they win the battle of the bands. A record label tries to sign them and Steve feels that tightness in his chest, he insists his lawyer (Erica) should read the contract before they sign. Good thing too because they would've got screwed.

That's how Steve becomes their manager and how Corroded Coffin takes all the right steps to stardom, and who knows. Maybe these powers were always going to lead him here.

[simonsrileyhusband]

Hello, I was wondering if you could write Simon x male reader, and i have this very specific story in mind

Simon who is kinda arrogant or whatever you call it, constantly trying to one up the reader, clingy, obnoxious but in love with the reader, flirting and shit but the reader at first doesn't return the feelings. Then at some point they bang and instead of the whole obnoxious "told you I'd fuck you good" Simon is more sentimental type, being so happy to finally have the reader.

Can you see the vision?

If not feel free to ignore this!

nsfw

you are not sure how you ended up in your bed with simon on top of you, shirtless, whining as he grinds on you, kissing down your neck and whispering how much he needed you, how much he wanted this.

ghost has always been flirty with you, always making suggestive jokes or remarks, trying to get a reaction out of you. but you never gave in, thinking he was like that with everyone, or thinking it was just that, a joke.

a few months ago, after a long mission a tipsy simon tried to flirt with you.

"hello doll, come here often?" i says leaning down to speak with you.

"no, this is my first time here." simon is handsome, everyone that looks st him knows it, sharp edges on his jaw, strong nose, big brows, cobered with small scars. he is handsome, and he knows it.

"mhm, new in town. would you like me to show you around? i have a nice bike."

"does that often work?"

"you have no idea... would you like to ride me?" you cant help but roll your eyes, even when his comment had an effect on you. your hand pushes him away.

"mhm, not really, im fine." you say before walking back to the table were the rest of the 141 was sitting, you can hear simon groan and order another drink.

and it happened again and again, indecent offering every single time he could. you blushed, pushed him away, say no and forget about it until next day.

but tonight was different, maybe the mission was too long, maybe you needed more rest to think straight. but simon looked way too good on that black shirt, a simple black button up with the sleeves rolled up.

maybe it was the way he laughed with the cup of whiskey raised to his lips. maybe it was the fact that you saw him covered in blood a few nights before, ripping a man apart that dared to try and harm you.

either way, you found yourself biting down on your lip and rubbing your thighs together at the sound of his low and husky voice.

"did you come alone, angel?" he asks, one hand on either side of you, caging you in the bar.

"no, i came with my friends." you say turning around, simons big body hulking over you, making you invisible for anyone that walked by.

"and where are they? they cant leave a cute birdie like you all alone..." he whispers leaning down.

"im fine, really. my friend simon takes care of me." you speak trying to hold back a smirk, your cheeks a bit blushed.

"oh, does he?"

"he does..."

"and is that simon guy handsome?"

"maybe... a bit"

"mhm" he chuckles and leans in to whisper in your ear "hi lovie... want me to drive you home? i only charge with a fun time"

"yeah" you mumble. simon pulls back, looking at you shoocked.

"w-what?" he asks blinking rapidly.

"yeah, take me home... ill pay" you whisper, a bit shyly.

his breath get heavier and he nods, walking to the table to grab his helmet and phone.

the drive to your apartment was quick, not a lot of people were out that night. you could feel how tense he was when you pressed your chest against his back, your hands rubbing his legs and squeezing his hands when they came to yours on the red lights.

"thanks, thanks... fuck, thank you" he whispers, his dick buried deep inside of you, your lips swollen from how much he kissed you.

"you are so pretty, so so pretty" he whines, rubbing your sides softly. his whole act falling down the moment you gave in, his facade crumbling at every moan and whimper you let out.

"fuck, love... ill make you feel good, ill make you feel so good."

[ryansemporium]

Hey I'd like to add my perspective growing up queer (cis, gay male) during the 2000s in Western Europe.

There was a lot of shame. Especially as a small town boy, there was the very real feeling my family would never accept me. I went through an entire "I'm bi I'm bi I'm bi I can't be gay that would be the worst thing ever, I'm bi" phase.

My country had legal gay marriage (not even just 'civil partnership', actual marriage) by the 2000s. Despite that, mainstream opinion was still that we were a bunch of freaks and fruits. The big tv channels had "lifestyle" segments on gay people that were exoticising, demeaning, and very much "look at how these freaks live".

In true European fashion, anyone who complained was told "well AT LEAST you don't have it as bad as AMERICANS" (see also: racism)

'Don't ask, don't tell' was a thing not just in the US military but in high school as well. Palpable sense of "don't tell me you're gay so I can continue to be civil to you"

When I was out during the last year of high school, a gym teacher asked me "Hm, shouldn't you get changed in the girls' locker room instead?" (On a positive note, several of my straight male classmates immediately shut him down by calmly going "Excuse me? What? What did you say? You can't say that.")

Parties were pretty great. This might be nostalgia talking. There was (is) a semi-government-funded organisation focused on helping queer youth, and they threw parties about once a month. They had an online forum (discontinued only a couple of years ago! I hate the current internet and the Discordification of social online spaces) where I made a lot of friends, some of whom I'm still friends with to this day. Anyway, the parties were fun. I'd take the bus there and dance through the night and make out with people, thinking "are you a boy or a girl? does it matter?"

The internet was WILD. Only freaks were on there. 'Groups' and chatrooms were a big thing. I was in an MSN or Yahoo! group for Final Fantasy VIII yaoi. I made friends there too. We used ICQ messenger and Yahoo! messenger, before MSN messenger was even a thing. I sent and received nudes. Much later I wondered about some of the people I sent nudes too, and how maybe they were not 16 like me but a whole lot older. (And also: I lived. It barely affected me.)

I realised I was gay when I was in some sort of summer camp. Another kid was panicking because he thought he might be gay (he was, and in retrospect it was very obvious.) He'd got the idea from a GOVERNMENT FLYER on "you may be gay (and it's okay)", containing a bulleted list on "Things that indicate you might be gay." ("Masturbating while mainly thinking about people of the same gender as you" was the big one for me)

There were government posters up in libraries about "1 in 10 people are gay, it might be you, and that's okay!" It was... weird but well-meaning, I guess?

9/11 and the Bush Administration and the Afghanistan and Iraq war were... something. Yeah. I think a lot of us forgot that the War on Terror was a semi-religious war against islam. I know I forgot how big a role Bush's born-again christian thing played in it all until I saw some clips of his "God bless America" and "If you aren't with us you're against us" and it all came rushing back.

Chick-Fil-A being homophobic was a thing back then too. Back then straight people didn't care either. It's kinda funny how that came back up again recently.

Cultural imperialism is a thing. As a kid in Europe you get inundated in American tv shows and movies, whether you want to or not, and there's no telling what will stick. My mom and sister were really into Seventh Heaven, a shitty religious / evangelical Aaron Spelling show. I was really into South Park. I feel this has only gotten worse now that the entire Internet has narrowed down to five American-owned mega-sites.

At the same time, there was a sense of pride that most European countries didn't blindly go along with what Bush and Cheney and Powell were trying to sell about "Saddam's weapons of mass destruction". The whole "freedom fries" debacle was the first time me and many of my peers realised America is a deeply unserious nation.

The internet was a lot better, though.

…I’m asking this as a younger queer person who was busy with other things during the 2000s (namely being a toddler/very young child)…what was being queer teen in the early 2000s like? Also, before I go interrogate the first willing 40 year old I find at the LGBT Center…do you know of any books or articles about this time period?

it was a lot of being forced through abstinence only sex education, getting hate crimed, being super eating disordered and that being completely normalized and even considered healthy, having classmates die of a mix of eating disorders & drug use, rampant teen pregnancy, both teachers and students getting into fistfights, being sexually harassed literally all the time, the one trans kid having to take school online so he wouldnt kill himself, 25 year olds hanging out around the school giving girls cigarettes and sexually assaulting them, working a part time job at the mall for 5.50 an hour then driving home to find your mom watching bill oreilly ranting about how people like you are evil and disgusting and next thing jeff dunhams on the tv doing jokes about dead muslims. cant tell you just how ambient and everywhere both violent homophobia and rape culture were like it was omnipresent. lotta slurs too. lots of teens getting black out drunk all the time and puking and getting into situations. what resistance to the wars i got to see in my small ish city was a few rallies of a few dozen people and some protest signs tied to highway overpasses, but otherwise american flags and jingoistic propaganda were everywhereeeee, on every minivan window and classroom etc. nobody spoke up for gay people that wasnt gay and everybody hated women and were so so anti black

the internet was a lot better though.

[celeste-clearwater-06]

The Kitchen Window (pt. 3)

Bayverse! Raphael x Fem! Reader

desc- (April knows something is up with your story, and decides to investigate)

warnings - swearing (duh)

word count - 2.1k

READ PREVIOUS PARTS HERE- one - two

The first message pops up on your screen when you’re at one of the corner tables in the cafe, on your mandatory 30 minute break when she texts, drinking something that wasn’t on the menu. It’s from an unsaved number.

[hey! It’s April]

The first time she’s texted you after exchanging numbers. An easy smile comes to you.

[Can we meet up tomorrow? I’ve got a lead on a few break-in cases]

You set your cup down to respond, wiping your mouth with your sleeve and start typing back quickly.

[i’d love to, but i’m working a 6-9 :((]

She types and sends another message almost immediately.

[does tonight work then?]

She sure was relentless.

[sure! any place in mind?]

[would your place be okay?]

Your place? Your quiet, empty, drab apartment?

[yeah that works ! lemme send you the address. i get off at 7]

[awesome thxxx]

You laugh quietly to yourself while typing down the complex name and your room number. April seemed nice enough from the little you knew about her. Strong, independent, gorgeous. Vern was definitely trying to tap that. You really hoped he didn’t, but she read as a woman that could hold her own. You liked it.

Your coworker coughed to get your attention, indicating you’re 3 minutes past your break. You pocket your phone, and then stand to clock back in and finish the last half of another boring shift.

April’s already beaten you to your apartment, leaning against the outer wall by your door and looking down at her phone when you get there. Her head lifts with a pretty smile when you greet her.

“Hey! Sorry I’m running a little behind.”

Your hands fumble the key ring before shoving one into the lock and it twists with a click. She’s understanding.

“No worries. I’m glad we could meet up.”

“Sorry,” you’re quick to bring awareness to the nearly bare space when the door creaks open, “I don’t really have a lot going on in here.”

April scans the room while you shed your jacket and shoes, walking in and taking in stride the plain couch and old carpet.

“Wow. Kinda lonely.”

Ouch. Painfully truthful but, ouch. Way to beat around the bush.

“Yeah,” you huff, “I’m not here a lot. Or anyone else.” That statement proves false when a high-pitched meow and tinkle of a little belled-collar comes from the kitchenette. The cat is patting her little feet on the counter.

“Hey there kitty.”

Your visitor walks over to give her a little scratch under the chin, which she accepts gladly.

“Oh yeah, she’s here too. Watches over the house for me.”

April chuckles.

“What’s her name?”

“Vannie. Like Van Gogh.”

You thought the name was genius when you first picked it out, poking a little fun at her one missing ear. It sounded a little bit ridiculous now, when you were saying it out loud to another person. April’s eyes get this curious, excited little light behind them when she turns to look at you. What it’s about, you have no clue, and don’t care to ask.

“You named her after an artist.”

“Sure did.”

It’s odd to you, how that seems to be the kicker, but that thought doesn’t even reach the processing department of your brain before April reaches into her crossbody bag and pulls out a laptop.

“I wanted to show you some of these recent reports on break-ins in lower manhattan. Maybe we could try and find your guy.”

“Okay miss detective,” it’s a compliment you mean, well impressed with her dedication. She was just so cool. April flips open the screen and sets the device on the countertop next to Vannie, wasting absolutely zero time. You feel a little guilty there’s not even a table or chairs for the two of you to relax at.

She opens a file on the Home page with two clicks. Vannie paws at the clicker icon that darts around the screen.

The two of you share a little amused laugh, and then divert your attention to one of the worded documents that she’s scrolling through.

“Rising illegal activity… here.” April moves her face back so you can move in and scan over the report. It read along the lines of a few specific perpetrators and their repeated offenses of theft and breaking and entering in around the block you lived on.

“It’s weird,” April rests an arm on the counter in thought, “You said some guy stopped whoever it was trying to grab you from your window. A ton of the reports and witness statements I’ve read over mention similar stuff.”

This surprises you slightly. She opens a different report and lets you freely scroll.

All of the accounts have about the same cookie-cut story. A shadowed figure, moving in, attacking, and then disappearing with little to no trace. No descriptions, no clues to who they were.

You knew though.

“So like… a vigilante.”

“Exactly,” April confirms. The way she’s looking at your face, gauging a reaction, settles weird in the pit of your stomach. It’s like she already knows the answer, the big picture to this case you’re still trying to put together.

“And all of them seem to be, what, a guy with a weird amount of strength that’s kicking ass at night and leaving the NYPD to clean up their mess?”

“Or…” she knows you know something, and it’s making you break a little sweat under the building pressure. You’re suddenly uncomfortable.

“Or… More than one. You can’t cover that much area in such a short amount of time.”

“Right.”

You’re cracking under the weight of her curious stare in the silence of the room.

April O’Niel is fucking baiting you.

She wants you to tell her the truth about who, or what, stopped your attacker a few weeks ago on the balcony. And poor, unsocial, people-pleasing you just spills it out.

“Okay, I-I know this is gonna sound absolutely crazy.”

The words come flowing from your mouth, a sporadic spout of words that you can’t stop. Her eyes grow wider and wider as you admit you really did know what the guy looked like, and how he’d come to your window intentionally one night just last week. Maybe it was the pure lack of having someone personable (and also not a cat) to listen to your insane story that just keeps tumbling out. By the time you’re finished, April has the same look on your face that you did when you first encountered the giant turtle, like she was practically reliving the story in her own head. You’re breathless.

“I know it sounds like I’m insane, but I just couldn’t tell Vern,” you’re quick to your own defense, “He would never talk to me again. Nobody would.”

She just stands there for a minute in the quiet, gears clicking in that quick brain of hers.

“I don’t think you’re crazy.”

You don’t believe that for a second. Her baffled stare just moments ago were a telltale sign of someone’s concern. April was probably already thinking of how to transport you to the nearest psyc ward.

“I get it, it sounds-“

“Look… I gotta take go take care of something,” she shuts the laptop and is already shoving it into her bag, while you stand there fumbling for something to say to try and convince her of your story, “I promise I’ll get back to you, this is just super, super important.”

She definitely thinks you’re crazy.

“April, please,”

She grabs your pleading hand in both of hers and pats it like an old woman pitying the poor.

“I’ll text you, when I get the chance.”

April leaves you standing, slouched with your arms just hanging defeatedly at your sides while she practically runs out of the door.

“It was good seeing you! Have a good night!”

It’s quiet all over again when the door slams shut. Vannie meows, like it’s a question and you look at her with a pathetic expression.

“She thinks I’m batshit crazy.”

But you’re so wrong, because as you prepare yourself for another night of restless sleep, April’s quickly walking down the stairs and out onto the street with a phone to her ear, and a satisfied smile on her face.

“Donnie?”

“Hey April! What’s up?”

“We gotta talk. I’m swinging by the lair in a few.”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

The boys are all standing around their booth table (the really cool one they’d dragged down into the lair forever ago), mouths agape while April explains in confidence the situation at hand. Splinter is sitting next to her, with a wise, attentive ear.

Raphael is trying to brood at his friend practically snitching all of his secrets to his brothers and dad, but he’s still so shocked at what he’s hearing that his brows are curling in confusion rather than anger.

“I told you to stay away from her apartment, Raph!” Leo’s first instinct is to point an accusing finger towards his younger brother. He seethes at it but before he can get a snide remark out, someone’s talking again.

“I didn’t know Vern had a sister.” Donnie is stuck on the main focus of all of their surprise.

“Or, like, any family!” Mikey cuts in, “He’s a lone wolf.” He lets out a horrendous impression of howl, and performance of ripping a nonexistent shirt from his body like a werewolf. April snickers.

“Vern doesn’t talk about her much,” she defends, “I just met her last week.”

It really was a ridiculous coincidence that the pretty girl Raphael has been so unintentionally drawn to was stupid Vern Fenwicks younger sister. Though he doesn’t think it would have made a difference in the outcome of him silently following her home some nights to ensure she makes it there without incident. Thankfully, April doesn’t know this, otherwise she would’ve outed that information to everyone by now. The oldest of the four speaks again, desperate to turn this into some sort of lesson.

“If you’d just listened-“

“What’s done is done, Leonardo.” Splinter's voice is calm, but commanding, “You cannot change that she’s seen him.”

That finally silences Leo, but he’s visibly unhappy. Donnie speaks up again.

“So what does this mean for us?”

This renders all of them unanswered. It’s a complicated thing. They can’t make you just forget the multiple interactions you’ve had with Raphael. But how do they approach forward from here? April has a suggestion she’s been thinking of since she left your apartment.

“I think she should meet you guys.”

“WHAT?”

All four voices are overwhelmingly loud and surprised at the idea.

“It would only make sense. She knows you guys are out there every night, she’s seen Raph,” she lifts her hand to acknowledge the turtle who just grunts in annoyance, “And she totally thinks that I think she’s crazy. I feel bad.”

“I don’t know,” Donnie’s hesitant, “this isn’t a dire, life threatening situation where human interaction is necessary.”

“What if she tells her friends?” Leo adds.

April bites her tongue. As sweet and kind as you are, it would come as a surprise to anyone on the outside that you pretty much only talked to people at your job.

“She won‘t.”

“So many people have seen us out there, and they don’t need to know who we are. Why should she?”

“Am I seriously the only one here who digs the idea?” Mikey says, “We have, like, two human friends up top.”

Raph is the only one who hasn’t spoken up. Secretly, it excited him to think about meeting you with, hopefully, no repercussions. But also, so many things could go wrong. He doesn’t realize everyone’s staring at him, waiting for his input, until the silence draws on for just a little too long.

“Man, I don’t know about this one.”

“Come onn,” Michelangelo throws a soft punch at his shoulder, “You can finally introduce us to your girlfriend.”

Raph pushes the youngests’ face away with his palm.

“Knock it off, dumbass.”

“Splinter?” Leo looks to his dad for guidance. The party’s torn and he’s left to be the mediator. After sitting in thought for a moment, the rat speaks.

“I don’t believe it would hurt to indulge. If April trusts the girl, I cannot see a reason not to make an acquaintance.”

“She really is sweet,” April’s on your corner of the ring, and Splinter’s words credit her immensely. She can see them all look at each other and wordlessly cave in, one at a time. Mikey pumps his fists in the air with excitement.

“Okay so even if we do decide to meet her,” Leo’s already made up his mind, but pretends not to, “We can’t just bring her down here.”

A good point.

April gets another idea. She pulls out her phone and holds up her finger to pause the conversation.

“Hold that thought.”

And with another text sent, the plan’s set in place.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

*hands you this chapter with a wink*

PART 3 BABY, THINGS ARE GETTIN GOODDD

Sorry this chapter is a little shorter, but trust, I've already gotten the next chapter fully written out, and it'll definitely make up for it ;)

lemme know if you want to be a part of my slowly growing taglist, so you don't miss out on the next chapter!!!

THANK YOU BABES 🩷💕💓🧼🫧

taglist - [ @ladyofparchments @well-its-not-human-anymore @raphaelsrightarm @chiliiscereal @milkytheholy1 @moxfirefly @raphsgrl @leosgirl82 @thelaundrybitch @rheawritesforfun @imthegreenfairy86 @aurora-the-kunoichi @angelhazeisaweirdo @raisin-shell @fyreball66 @redsrooftopprincess @milykins @ahhhhhhhhhfuck @quitecontrary-to-mary @the-cauldron-witch @brins-rogers @yelocaltrashcan @pheradream-15 ]

[hiiikiko]

𝖈𝖆𝖚𝖌𝖍𝖙 𝖎𝖓 𝖞𝖔𝖚𝖗 𝖜𝖊𝖇

[7: ex’s and oh…]

tlou m.list | series m.list

spiderman!ellie x reader

synopsis: could ellie be anymore confusing?? is she even worth the headache? i mean you do have better options…. particularly a blonde who invited you to a ball….. or maybe a particular masked vigilante….?

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

“I thought you were over Abby,” Gwen arched her brow as she held up another dress against her and looked in the full length mirror opposite where you sat.

“I-I am.. I think but.. I don’t know, Gwen, I can’t keep waiting around for Ellie to wake up,” you grumbled and shook your head at the dress Gwen was holding, “No, that colours hideous.”

“Yeah.. kinda reminds me of the dress I wore in sixth grade, remember that? I threw up all over it.. ugh, now I’m nauseous,” you giggled as you made your way over to help her look through dresses, “Hey, are you not gonna get a new dress?”

You held up a dress to Gwen, “Nah, Markus is making me one, he said something about me being free advertising, wearing one of his dresses around all those snobs will do his work some justice by bringing attention to it,” you hung the dress back up.

“Ugh, lucky…” Gwen whined and flopped back onto the couch, “Not only are you getting a dress customed made for you, you have one of the hottest girls taking you to the ball? Your life is like a fucking drama, like Gossip Girl or something.”

“Lucky isn’t what i’d call it.”

ELLIE’S POV:

Ellie bit the cap of her pen, trying desperately to pay attention to what the professor was saying but her mind was still reeling from what Jesse had told her a few days prior.

After arriving at Jesse’s apartment, he pulled up a video of another Spider-Man..? They looked very identical to Ellie but.. their suit was all black and looked almost liquid, not to mention this ‘Spidey’ looked bigger.. more threatening than her. News sources around the city were saying that Spidey had wen ‘Back to Black’ which she did appreciate the pun but it didn’t make sense at all because she had never owned a black suit previously and on top of that, this Spidey seemed to be better than her.. they were stronger, faster but at the same time.. they were rougher and seemed almost animalistic in their movements.. not to mention, they looked a little too familiar for Ellie’s taste.

“Ellie? Hellooooo?”

Ellie nearly jumped out of her skin, “Y-yeah? What’s up?”

“I said class was dismissed,” the profesor chuckled and roughly pat her on the back, causing Ellie to let out a little ‘oof.’

“Yeah, sorry.. I was distracted..”

“My dear girl, you should go back home, I’ll even extend the deadline on the final essay for you, just.. just don’t tell anyone okay? It’s really not a secret anymore but you’re by far my favourite in this class, hell, maybe even the whole school,” he chuckled and waved his hand as he made his easy down the stairs, “I’ll see you tomorrow for coffee.”

“Bye professor,” Ellie smiled softly, momentarily distracted from the dire situation at hand.

Gotta find them before things get outta hand.

YOUR POV:

Abby: Did you get your dress?

You: ya

Abby: I’ll pick you up at 8 tmrw

You: k

Abby: don’t sound so enthusiastic

You: k

You rolled your eyes and tossed your phone down next to you, you so did not want to go to this stupid ball. You grumbled and sat up, knowing that you should probably get something to eat, so you tossed on your favourite Spider-Man hoodie and some warm jeans and sneakers to head downstairs. You had made a little extra this month, so you decided to treat yourself to your favourite food.

You plugged your ears with your airpods and stepped into the chilly street.

“Shoulda worn a warmer jacket,” you muttered and made your way through the somewhat empty streets, shoving your hands deep into your pockets and humming softly along to the song blasting through your headphones.

The crisp night air soothed your reeling mind, almost cleansing it of Ellie and Abby.

To get to the restaurant, you had to pass through a couple alleys… you knew you shouldn’t, you could get robbed… or worse but part of you knew that wouldn’t happen because you had your guardian angel on your side.. right?

You weaved your way through garbage bags, potholes, and dumpsters. There were a few bums here and there but most were either drunk out of their minds or poor down on their luck business men.

The echoes from your hums bounced off the walls and back to you as you walked.

Fuck, this is reckless… maybe I shouldn’t be doing this..

You shove your hands deeper into your pockets and chew on your inner cheek… this was reckless but you needed to know if he would come.

Lost in thought, you didn’t even see the approaching shadow behind you until you felt a cold hand on your shoulder. Jumping with a yelp, you spun around with a smile on your face.

“I thought you’d never sho—,” your smile is quickly wiped off your face when you come face to face with a tall gangly man, his eyes red from too much alcohol, his breath sour with beer and cigarettes, and face bloated from too many drunken nights.

“Well, here I am,” he smiles crookedly and brings a knobby hand up to his chin, rubbing at the stubble there, his beady eyes roaming over your finger, clearly sizing you up.

You feign a polite chuckle, “Sorry, I-I thought you were someone else..”

“I’ll be whoever you want me to be, sweetheart.”

Ew.

“Yeah, no thanks,” you scoff and turn around to head back down the alley.

“Come on! I’m a great actor,” his hand wrapped around your wrist and pulled you closer.

“Hey look, I’m not fucking interested,” you say through gritted teeth.

His smile never wavers, “Why the fuck are you acting like such a bitch?” He pulls you even closer, you can feel his vile breath against your neck and a slimy hand snaking itself around your waist.

“Get off!” you yell and stomp your foot down onto his foot before pulling your knee back up and slamming it into his balls.

The man keels over, “You fucking bitch!”

You roll your eyes, raising your leg to kick him again but quickly withdraw your leg when the man pulls out a gun. Before the man could pull the trigger he’s pushed against the wall by an… invisible force…..or..? Is that webs..? You take a step closer, your eyes peering into the darkness, making out two figures, one on top and pummeling it’s arm into the pulp on the ground, the sound of grunts and please to ‘stop’ echoeing throughthe once hum filled alleyway.

Suddenly the cries stop and you feel another hand on your shoulder, you screamed and spun around.

“Woah, woah, calm down! It’s just me, you can put that er.. uh, pepper spray away?” Spidey chuckled and nodded at your glitter bottle of pepper spray that definitely would not have worked.

“H-Holy shit!” you yell exasperatedly, a breathy chuckle leaving your lips.

“What the fuck were you thinking?!” he yelled, you totally weren’t expecting that..

“W-What are you—?”

“You could’ve been seriously hurt!” Spidey yells and puts his hands on his head, “God, are you that reckless?”

“I-I was going t-to get d-d-dinner,” you cry.

Spidey puts his hands down, letting out a sigh, “Then come on.. let’s get your dinner.”

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

[A/N: so sorry for the delay, a sequence of events happened that prevented me from having access to this account and giving me time to write, next chapter will be longer :p]

taglist: @elliecoochieeater @wavesgocrash @g3latin @elliesflowersblog @usuck @elliessweetheart @miss-chananandler-bong @lvlymicha @prettywhnyoucry @g0d-wont-let-me-die @errorlovernotfound99 @thatgiraffefromtlou @ilovewomenfr @abbyswh0r3

[ttalgi]

missent letters pt.2

wanderer x gn! reader

part 1 || part 2

tags/cw: academic rivals to lovers, some cursing, mc is: a Vahumana student in the Akademiya, roommates with Alhaitham and Kaveh, and a pyro vision holder.

a/n: I finally finished the book a year later (lol) which made me want to make a part 2! Also, please don't mind any ooc or wrong plot details...it's been a while since I've actually played genshin.

wc: 2.1k

“It would do your remaining few brain cells some good to stop banging your head against the table. Plus this table was expensive. I can’t have the wood scratched already.”

You stop mid head bang to send Alhaitham an incredulous look. “Please!” you plead. “Have some sympathy for me at least once in your life. My life is over.” You slump your body across the living room bench.

Without missing a beat, he replies, ”I let you live here, don’t I?” Alhaitham turns to Kaveh with a raised eyebrow, “Care to fill me in on their latest tantrum?”

“It’s not a tantrum—!”

“Long story short, they asked me to send out some envelopes for them because of their busy schedule, so I told them to leave whatever they needed sent on top of their desk. Among the envelopes was one for Hat Guy, which apparently they didn’t want me to deliver.” He takes another bite of the shawarma wrap that Alhaitham brought home for dinner. 

Kaveh turns to look at your defeated form. “If you didn’t mean to send Hat Guy the letters, why were they mixed up with the other envelopes in the first place? What’s the big deal about those letters anyway?” he asks while chewing.

You perk up your head to look at him. “Huh? You didn’t read them?” you ask.

“You see, unlike some”—he sends Alhaitham a pointed look—”people, I have basic human decency.”

“Again, I let you guys live here—”

“Basically, everytime I feel anger or annoyance towards him, I just vent about it on paper pretending that he’s the recipient. Then I just stuff everything in the same envelope because it’s easy storage that way.”

“Wait!” Kaveh interrupts. “Just how many letters have you written about him? That envelope was like an inch thick. It even cost me extra postage!”

“...What can I say? I have lots of vendettas against him,” you shrug.

Alhaitham interposes, “I don’t think I understand. What’s the big deal? So what if you told him exactly how you feel about him? I didn’t take you for being a people pleaser.”

“This is why people think you’re such a machine at times, Alhaitham!” Kaveh throws his arms up in frustration. “Some people actually care about how they present themselves to others.”

“Actually!” You interject before another one of their infamous arguments breaks out full throttle. “Alhaitham’s kind of right. I did write exactly how I feel about him, and that’s the thing. I wrote everything that I felt about him..” you trail off.

Kaveh lets out a dramatic gasp. “No way! You finally confessed your feelings for him in those letters?!”

“Well, I wouldn’t exactly call it confessing. I just talked about how I think his eyes are kinda dreamy despite being cold at times and that he has a really pretty face and that”—you almost give yourself whiplash turning in his direction—”Wait, finally? What do you mean finally? There’s no way you could have known about my minuscule crush on Hat Guy!”

“Anyone with eyes and ears could tell that you have some romantic attraction towards him,” Kaveh sighs while shaking his head before gesturing to Alhaitham. “Even this guy is aware of it.”

“You two do know that I’m not socially inept, correct?”

Deciding to ignore Alhaitham, you slump back against the bench. “I’m doomed.”

You pop up with an idea. “Wait! Do you guys think Tighnari needs any more forest rangers? I can take a break until this whole thing tides over and just help him over at Avidya Forest—”

Alhaitham quenched your wishful thinking. “Knowing how substandard you are with your vision, you’d accidentally set the forest on fire.”

You stumble back as if an arrow pierced through your body. You mumble out, “Must you always humble me.” You turn to Kaveh with hopeful eyes.

“I thought I'd never say this, but I agree with Alhaitham. You trying to help Tighnari in the forest would do more harm than good. Plus, you'd end up a victim to his lectures again. Remember that one time you—”

Feeling your body riddling with piercing wounds, you slump against the bench once more. “Yeah, I’m doomed.” 

//

It's been five days since Kaveh accidentally sent out the envelope meant for Hat Guy and you aren’t sure how much longer you have until the letters would be in his possession. Unless they already were... 

If you were blessed by the Archons, then maybe the envelope was lost or better yet damaged beyond repair in delivery, but alas, you know better. The mail system in Sumeru City is known for its attentiveness, especially since many important Akademiya-based deliveries are sent and received daily.

You haven't seen Hat Guy around much these days, especially considering the fact that you’ve been actively avoiding him. Mandatory lectures that you both share? You now sit close to the exit, far from him. The library that you guys are known to basically reside in? You begged Alhaitham to let you study in his office instead, promising that you’d do his portion of the house chores for the next two weeks.

Deciding to go home early out of your own volition (Alhaitham kicked you out because of an important meeting), you carefully tread the halls of the Akademiya making sure to peek around each corner before continuing. As you start to believe that you're finally in the clear, you hear someone behind you clearing their throat. Taking a look down at the shadows decorating the floor, you see the silhouette of the man that you have been avoiding for your own peace of mind.

"How much longer are you going to rat around the Akademiya for? It's not like you can avoid me forever, you know."

Feeling offended by his choice of words, you abruptly turn around to tell him off; however, the sudden close proximity of your faces has you taking a step back. If you hadn’t been paying attention to his face, you would have thought that he was unaffected by the action, but the slight widening of his eyes before returning back to normal has you knowing otherwise.

You give Hat Guy a pointed glare. Wanting to defend yourself against his statement, you open your mouth to retaliate but the sight of the familiar envelope in his hand causes you to simply shut your mouth and grimace instead. 

As he notices your actions, Hat Guy lets an annoying smirk grace his face. "Come on, say what you were going to say. We both know that you have a lot to say to me," he says while lazily waving the envelope around.

To try and play this in your favor, you start to act nonchalant. “I don’t know what you mean by ‘avoiding you’. Also, what’s with the envelope? Never seen it before in my life.”

Hat Guy raises a brow. “What’s with this sudden stupid, chill guy persona? Anyways, it seems like you need a reminder. Not surprising considering our perspective rankings,” he subtly gloats.

“You little—”

”Let's see,”—he opens up the envelope and starts to smooth out the bottommost letter—”Maybe reading some of these letters will help jog your memory.” He makes a grand gesture of pretending to clear his throat before reading, and you can’t help but to cover your face with your hands to try and protect yourself from the upcoming embarrassing retelling.

“Again! Again, you received a higher score on an assigned research essay. It’s only been 2 months and 11 days since you’ve been enrolled into the Vahumana Darshan, so how is it that you’re the apparent “All-Knowing” about Time-Sensitive Commodities? Who do you think you are? The new Sumeru archon of wisdom? Oh, sorry. I shouldn’t be disrespecting our Lesser Lord Kusanali by comparing you to her—” he pauses and his eyes hurriedly shift to gauge your reaction. If anything, he should be thankful. If you hadn’t been so focused on not looking at him, you would have seen the crease in his brows mid-reading.

Hat Guy recomposes himself before continuing to read. “For Archon's sake. What’s more frustrating is your subtle boasting towards me. How could such a shitty personality even emit from a pretty face like yours? Though, I’ll begrudgingly admit that I actually look forward to these interactions that I have with you.”

“ST—!”

A coy smirk fills his face. “Oh? Why so embarrassed? Do you know these letters after all?”

“N-no…I was just clearing my throat.” At this point, you curse your pride for not being able to halt this interaction.

“Stubborn as always.”

This time he picks out a letter from the top of the stack..

“It's completely and utterly unfair how your resting face looks so serene. Why must you always be in the library at the same time as I? Your stupidly, bewitching face only serves as a major distraction, like how could I not stare! It's like your face was personally carved by a god. Also, how the hell do you make a simple fountain pen look so good? The way that your slender fingers grip the—”

“OK, that’s enough! Stop with the reciting! I admit it!” You feel your face heat up from embarrassment and your pyro vision only makes everything feel hotter. You raise your hands in frustration. “It was a whole mixup! Those letters weren’t even meant to be sent to you.” You dial back your volume towards the end.

He pointedly sighs. “Well that much I figured out. There’s no chance in Teyvat where you of all people would willingly subject themself to this. So, what are you going to do about it now?” he asks while crossing his arms.

It hurts to admit, but you felt stupid at this very second. “What do you mean?”

He tskd. “Do I need to explain every little thing to you? You’re ranked right below me, so I know that you’re not stupid. Are you going to own up to your letters and finally confess? Or are you going to just cowardly dismiss this like you’ve been doing?”

“CONFESS?” You almost give yourself whiplash from how fast you check to see if anyone’s heard you. You repeat yourself in a whispering tone. “Confess?”

“You talk about ‘looking forwards’ to our interactions, staring at my ‘bewitching face’ and ‘slender fingers’ and you think it’s absurd that I bring up confessing? Or would it be easier for you if I confess first?”

Without thinking you blurt out, “There’s no way that you actually like me back.”

“Do you ever see me bothering to interact with anyone as much as I do with you? I even surprised myself when I started to catch feelings for your stubborn self.”

You try to shake off the nerves before staring into his eyes. “Hat Guy, I like—”

“Wanderer.”

"What?"

"Call me Wanderer instead; it rolls off the tongue easier than Hat Guy. It’s a nickname that the traveler gave me. Hat Guy is a silly name that happened to stick around the Akademiya.”

“Lots of names you have there, huh?” you tease.

He lets out a sound that’s the mix between a chuckle and a scoff. “You don’t know the half of it.”

“Well, Wanderer. I like you. So…will you go out with me?”

“Obviously.” (Your eye roll at his matter-of-fact tone is instinctual) “I wouldn’t waste my time with anybody else. Anyways, let’s get out of here. You were on your way home before I caught you, weren't you?”

Your lips start to raise into a smile. “You’re going to walk me home?”

“Noo, I’m saying this so I can just go off on my own—”

“Oh, shut it. Let’s get out of here.”

As the both of you guys stroll out of the Akademiya, your hand closest to Wanderer suddenly can’t stop twitching every so often. Your head fills with thought pertaining to your new found relationship. 

‘Is it too early to be holding hands?…Maybe hand holding is too PDA for him on open streets—’

A cold hand suddenly embracing yours breaks you out of your stupor. You turn to Wanderer, clearly surprised by the action. Starting to feel embarrassed, you try to pry your hand out of his clutch, only for him to tighten his grip. “W-What are you doing?”

“What do you think I’m doing?” He pivots his head to the opposite side, hoping that you won’t catch his ears turning slightly pink. “Your thoughts are so loud that even Mondstadt can hear them,” he scoffs. “Just lead the way.”

You start to walk with a slight pep in your step. “As you say!”

bonus scene?:

“Hey, can I give you a nickname too? Or is it too soon..”

He turns with a raised eyebrow. “Depends. What do you have in mind?”

“XxAssMaster69xX”

He lets out the biggest sigh. “Not you too.”

“Jokes, jokes—” you pause. “Wait, me too?”

He continues to walk forwards without you.

“Me too?! Hello???”

[destinedfordiapers]

The Intern

This caption is for @ellieabdl, a blushy little thing. I hope you enjoy it!

You sat there frozen in place, terror washing over you.

This can’t be happening.

Pee trickled down your office chair, pooling on the floor. You just peed yourself. At work.

What were you going to do?

Just when you thought it couldn’t get any worse, it does. She walked in, that same confident smile plastered on her face.

Nobody would have ever suspected Megan was a mere intern at the office. Despite being over ten years older than her—and her direct supervisor—you were often confused for her intern by clients.

There was just something about her. You couldn’t put your finger on it, but you felt the pressure her presence put on you.

Megan took one look at you, her eyes drifting down to the pool of your own pee, before walking straight toward you.

“Up,” she demanded. You obey. She inspects the damage, turning you around.

“Don’t worry, you’re okay. Give me your phone, I’ll call your husband.”

Too shocked to argue, you hand her your phone.

“Hi…no, this is Megan, Eleanor’s intern. She’s fine, well, kinda…no, no nothing serious! She just…well she had a little accident…oh, it’s not her first? Well that explains some things…great, we’ll be waiting in her office.”

She turns to you, smiling. “Your husband is on the way with a change of clothes. Just sit here, okay? I’ll make sure everything gets cleaned up.”

The next twenty minutes were some of the most awkward in your life. Megan never left your office. Finally, your husband, Jason, walks in with a bag of spare clothes.

He hands you the bag and you open it. To your utter horror, a pull-up is sitting on top.

“Eleanor,” Jason says calmly, “I think it’s time you wear some protection. This is starting to get out of hand.”

Before you can argue, Megan nods her head. “I agree, Eleanor. And Jason, I’ll be happy to help keep an eye on her. Make sure she’s not leaking and changing on time.”

That was six months ago.

Six grueling, humiliating months.

Somehow your intern now walked into your office like you were her subordinate. She didn’t knock. She just came in.

Megan walked straight over to you, telling you to stand up. And, no matter how much you wanted to argue, to stand up for yourself, you obeyed.

You let your intern—over a decade younger than you—walk into your office and check your pull-up. And if you were soggy, she’d hand you another pull-up and tell you to go change.

And your pull-up was wet far more often than before. Needless to say, your confidence was shattered. Your performance and work was slipping.

Every day, Megan would report your pull-up usage to your husband. Each day their conversations got lighter, their laughter intensified.

You loathed Megan’s power over you. The way everything she did was so effortless. She was graceful; she was strong. Most of all, you hated the way you always obeyed her.

And then it happened.

You felt a sudden, devastating urge. You needed to get to the bathroom now or you’d mess your pull-up. You wouldn’t let that happen. You waddled as fast as you could without losing control to the bathroom. As you got to the bathroom door, you felt a sigh of relief.

You were going to make it.

Until Megan opened the door. “What’s the rush, Ellie?”

It was too late. Before you could take another step—or even respond—you were squatting down and filling your pull-up.

Megan watched the whole thing, eyes locked onto you.

“Uh oh, did smelly Ellie make a stinky in her pull-up? I need to call your husband, we need to have a little chat about you.”

The next day, your husband insisted that he drives you to work over your objections. It was unusual—but so was the thick diaper between your legs.

After yesterday, your husband decided you’ll be in diapers until you can figure out your “potty situation.”

To your surprise, your husband opened your car door and told you to follow him upstairs, offering his hand.

“W-what are you doing?” you ask meekly.

“Your boss is expecting us,” he says matter-of-factly.

Without another word, you follow your husband as he marched to your bosses office, hyper-aware of the crinkling of your diaper.

You stop dead in your tracks when you see her in your bosses office. That same confident grin you hated so much.

Megan greets your husband like an old friend before everyone sits.

“What’s this all about?” your boss asks.

Without hesitation, Megan starts, “About my promotion, sir. Ellie is no longer qualified for her position, though I’m not sure she ever was.”

You look at her stunned. You move to stand up, but your husband’s hand prevents it. “No, Ellie,” he whispers to you.

Your husband turns to your boss. “Ellie is here to resign. It’s for the best. She’s clearly overwhelmed by this job and Megan is far better suited for the position.”

Your boss looks at you and Megan. His confusion gives way to a smile.

“Well, this certainly saves an awkward conversation. Megan is someone our company cannot afford to lose. And Eleanor’s performance has been, well, dreadful lately.”

“Thank you, sir. I’m happy to take over her position immediately,” Megan grins, “This is a win-win for everyone.”

Your boss nods. “But…may I ask why?”

Your husband answers for you. “Ellie isn’t made for the corporate world. She needs a slower pace in life. If she’s too immature to keep her pants clean, she’s definitely too immature to be a Senior Vice President!”

“So it’s true?” your boss asks, “I try not to be involved in office gossip, but it was all everyone could talk about yesterday.”

“Yep!” Megan answers, “Ellie had an oopsie-daisy in her pull-up yesterday. So we decided it was best for her to…move to a position more suited for her.”

“Well, that settles it,” your boss says standing up, signifying the end of the meeting, “Stick around Megan, I want to talk to you about your job after I walk Elean—Ellie—out.”

On the drive home, your husband explained exactly what your “new position” would be.

“Ellie, I love you. I’ll always love you. But things are going to change. You were never cut out for all this. I see that now. It was selfish of me to even let you try.”

You open your mouth to argue.

“No sweetie, just listen. You’re not like Megan. She may be 12 years younger than you, but she’s already everything you’re not. She’s smart, confident, and capable. I mean, she did take your job in six months—starting as in intern!”

“And what did you do while she did that? You went back to diapers. While she was taking your job, you were filling your pampers. So, if you’re going to act like a baby, then you’ll be treated like one.”

“I-I’m not a baby, it was just stress! I..”

“Oh, you’re not? Let’s see, Ellie. Babies need diapers—and so do you. Babies don’t have jobs—and neither do you. Babies cry when they’re upset or have an accident—and so do you. So what does that make you?”

You feel your diaper grow warm.

“I’ll help you out. It makes you a baby. And what do babies need, hmm? Caregivers! Babies need Daddies! And so do you.”

Your eyes grow wide.

“So from now on, I’m not your husband. I’m your Daddy. And your only job—now that you’re unemployed—is to be Daddy’s little angel. You don’t need to worry about a single thing anymore.”

Your husband—well, Daddy now—took his new role seriously. The guest room slowly transformed into a nursery. Complete with changing table, crib, and toys.

So many toys.

You found yourself losing more adult privileges every day, slipping more into the world of your second babyhood.

Your bedtime was no 7:30. You took a nap at noon every day. Your meals were served in a high chair—and never with any utensils. Your movies and tv shows were never rated above PG.

More troubling, you could swear you heard someone else in the house after Daddy put you to bed. But no matter how many times you asked, Daddy just laughed.

“Don’t worry about the adults, Ellie-welly, babies like you should be in dreamland!”

Which brings us to today.

It started like any other. Well, since your Daddy sent you back to babyhood. Daddy woke you up, changed your diaper with plenty of tummy tickles and raspberries. You ate your oatmeal in your highchair. You made your mid-morning stinky. And Daddy put you down for your nap.

All standard stuff.

You were laying on your bed, coloring and watching Bluey when it happened.

“Hi Da—!” you started, before realizing it wasn’t Daddy.

It was Megan.

“Hiya, Ellie!” Megan cooed, “Awwww, are you coloring for Daddy? Are you staying in the lines or is that still too much for you?”

“Wha-what are you doing here?” you whimper.

“Well, someone needs to watch Daddy’s little stinker while he runs errands. Babies can’t change their own diapers, silly!”

Megan reaches down and checks your diaper. “Not too wet, yet, Ellie-belly!”

You whimper like a scared baby who misses her Daddy.

Because that’s what you are.

”I can’t believe it,” Megan scoffs, “I knew you were pathetic when you hired me, but I didn’t know you were this pathetic. I mean, aren’t you like 33? Look at you! In a soggy diaper coloring on a workday?”

You look at Megan. She’s so beautiful, so sexy in a way you could never be. Not in thick, soggy diapers.

“And this room? I can’t. Well, nursery, is the better word. You even have a changing table! And look how many diapers! Isn’t it embarrassing to know you’re going to fill every single one up?”

“Or do you even care? I mean, I’d never let myself be some pamper packer while his Daddy is out fucking re—never mind.”

Despite your overwhelming humiliation, you can’t help yourself. “D-doing what?”

“Oh, honey, you don’t know? Did Daddy not tell you? Well, it does make sense, why would a Daddy tell a baby who he’s fucking? Wait…have you not even wondered? Are you THAT much of a baby you don’t even think of sex anymore?”

She’s lying. She had to be.

You blush violently, dreading the truth. You hadn’t had sex since the day you were fired. But that was just because Daddy was adjusting! Surely.

“Ellie, your Daddy needs a woman—not some baby in diapers. You understand that, right? Look at me. I’m everything your Daddy wants. I have a job. I’m potty trained. I’m mature. You’re none of those things.”

You want to yell, to scream at Megan. But the look in her eye—the menace—shuts you down.

There’s no point in trying. She’s in control. You’ll never be able to beat her. She’s right. She’s everything you’re not.

“Now, little one, let’s find something to do before your Daddy gets home. I think it’s good for us to bond in our new roles.”

“N-new roles?” you stutter.

She just laughs. “Don’t you worry your silly little head, Ellie-welly, I’m sure you’ll figure it all out one day.”

[snapscube]

i immediately strongly disliked dual destinies, and there are many reasons, but the 'disconnect' you described is really accurate, and made me appreciate dual destinies a little more. like. youre right. its more enjoyable in a vacuum. the skip is a big part of what feels odd to me

as much as i love Athena so far, it feels so weird to feel for the first time ever that i kinda wish they had not introduced a specific female character to the franchise when they did. Apollo Justice feels like it is trying to be this big setup for Apollo as a character and he has so much potential to develop and learn more about himself and then… in the VERY next game there is YET ANOTHER new defense attorney who completely splits the spotlight for “crazy new lawyer children” in half and it does them BOTH a disservice. again, i feel the same way about Fulbright. he’s fine, but Ema was already JUST introduced as a detective and had a lot of room to grow?? it’s not even that this game fully feels like a status quo reset, it feels like fast forward. there absolutely should have been at least ONE more “Apollo Justice” game, but apparently people just weren’t into anything that wasn’t Phoenix at the time. soooo we got this.

and “this”, again i HAVE to stress, i *really like in and of itself*, it’s just a tough position

[sossolei]

things that have helped me shift ⊹₊⟡⋆

DISCLAIMER, Just because I have shifted before doesn’t mean I am the Library of Alexandria. I’m a person just like you, learning as I go so I don’t have the answer to everything but I do try! I’m also not saying any of this will absolutely, 100% make you shift, but hopefully it can provide some perspective or insight into something you hadn’t thought about! !!! ANTIS DNI !!!

LANGUAGE — I’ve noticed since I first got into shifting that shifters will talk about/treat these realities like fanfiction or a role playing kinda thing??? It confused me before I had shifted because if this is real then why are people talking about themselves in the third person, or referring to others as “npc/non main characters”, or scripting in some crazy trauma for “fun”??? If you read anything of mine, you will notice I do not use words like “main character” or even “desired reality” because for me personally, it’s just reinforcing in my mind that this is not something that’s real or even close to something I can achieve.

Cut out third person language entirely. Stop referring to your “failed shifting attempts” as such, in fact, stop referencing it AT ALL. Stop keeping track. Stop referring to people in these realities as “main characters” or “npcs.” Stop coming back from an attempt thinking “damn I didn’t shift.”

INSTEAD, start saying that you shifted every time you attempt. “But I woke up in my O.R” who says? only you have a say in whatever reality you want to live in. Fake it til you make it. Start talking about people as they are, people. Use their names or nicknames. Watch a TikTok and think to yourself “yeah I’d send this to them.” FEEELLLLL IT. MAKE IT REAL TO YOUUUU.

LOGIC — After successfully shifting, I don’t tend to think about the “science” or “spiritual” side anymore BUT this is the logic that makes the most sense to me and is the simplest explanation I can think of. When you wake up in the morning, do you first check your phone or stand up to brush your teeth or stretch? Whatever path you choose is a shift in your reality. Every single choice you’ve ever made is a shift in your reality. As far as you know, if you checked your phone instead of stretching, you might pull something later on in the day that you wouldn’t have pulled had you stretched. But you didn’t. And now there’s a reality where you stretched, did the exact things, and didn’t pull a muscle because you stretched that morning.

THAT is reality shifting in its simplest form.

Manifesting can even be considered reality shifting because you’re shifting your current consciousness into one that is receiving said manifestion. The universe is infinite. Do not let the constrictions of others constrain you too.

“Yeah you can shift realities but not to those fantasy places like hogwarts, that’s not possible” why not? If you’ve just admitted can shift realities, why are “fantasy” realities so different to you? Because HERE in THIS reality, they are fantasy. In that reality, it is everyday, it is normal, it’s just another Tuesday. Shifting is simply becoming aware of your consciousness in another reality, similar to switching characters in video game like The Sims 4, from one plumbob to another and yes, that easy.

MEDITATION — You don’t need anything to shift realistically, but the one thing I recommend for anything is meditating. It’s a skill and, like any other, one that can be refined and perfected over time. Learning to get into a state of pure consciousness is a practice that existed for centuries, anybody can do it and doing it will only ever benefit you. You can meditate when you wake up, before you fall asleep, when you’re sitting up, WHENEVER! I’ve always felt better after a meditation, shifting related or not. It also helps me feel better when I don’t end up shifting because at least I’ve honed in and practiced that meditation technique, yk? Positives in everything!

OTHER PRACTICES — If nothing else, I recommend trying different spiritual practices and adding a lil sprinkle of shifting in there! This applies to religion as well in case that isn’t clear lol. If you don’t follow any specific spiritual practice, try pegan spell work (with protection and research ofc), research any herbs that aid in things like enhancing spiritual energy. If you pray to a God, you can “work” with your God in a sense to aid you in this personal journey, whether that be through journaling or actual prayer, prayer is an amazing manifestion technique and I do believe it can help with reality shifting considering it’s not against any religions. And if you don’t want to do any of this, come up with something for you and you only! A ritual can be anything you make it. You decide what works for you at the end of the day.

REMOVAL — This helped me the most in my opinion, I completely stepped away from online communities doing anything with reality shifting ( specifically shifttok ) and followed my own intuition of how to go about shifting, doing shadow work to figure out any blockages/questions I had, and just overall made shifting fun again for myself! The main thing I did was learn more about manifesting because the manifestion community does NOT play, they do not believe in limitations and they love LOA(ssumption) which is my fav so!

LUCID DREAMING — Not the actual act of lucid dreaming but learning about lucid dreaming and astral projection really makes you understand that anti shifters are so ignorant to what these things actually are it’s insane! People didn’t even believe that you could control your dreams 10-20 years ago, they genuinely thought dreams were just something that happens to you. Nowadays, we obviously know that you can control your dreams but this is just proof that nobody knows what they’re talking about fr. I guarantee you, a few years from now, people are gonna be talking about reality shifting the same way they talk about lucid dreaming, CASUALLY. Reality shifting is not some big thing of grandeur that only “special” people can do, the same way everyone can lucid dream, is the same way everyone can reality shift, and astral project.

All this is to say, stop fucking listening to other people LMAOOO. That’s gonna be my advice every single time because too much of anything will become a problem. Advice is good when you’re starting out and I don’t mind giving advice on that, but nobody knows you better than you know yourself, even if you don’t think you know what to do, I PROMISE you on everything, you know what’s best for you. You know what works, and you know what doesn’t, YOU KNOW. Believe yourself. Nobody else matters.

“you are the light. it’s not on you, it’s in you. don’t you ever in your motherfucking

life dim your light for nobody.”

[luvfae]

RED LIGHT,

GREEN LIGHT

summary: thanos flirts, you flirt back—then a game of red light, green light turns deadly, and his hand in yours is the only thing keeping you steady.

parings: thanos/choi su-bong

warnings: death, blood, typical squid games stuff

The first thing Thanos noticed about you was your number.

231.

One after his.

It was stupid, really. Out of hundreds of players crammed into this nightmare, something as small as a number shouldn’t have mattered. But it did. It felt like fate. Like a string tying you to him, just tight enough that he couldn’t ignore it.

And then you caught him staring.

You arched a brow. “Like what you see, 230?”

Thanos smirked, rolling his shoulders. “Depends. You single?”

A laugh, light and dry. “You’re trying to flirt here?” You gestured around the room, at the desperate faces, the eerie guards, the sheer wrongness of the place.

He shrugged. “What, you want me to wait ‘til after I win this shit?”

“You think you’re gonna win?”

Thanos grinned. “Babe, I don’t lose. So stick with me.”

You clicked your tongue. “Oh, so I get to be your sidekick?”

“Call it what you want, señorita, but if we’re standing next to each other when the game starts, I’d say we’re already teammates.”

You snorted, shaking your head, but the amused glint in your eyes didn’t waver. Maybe it was the nerves, the fear manifesting as sarcasm, but you liked him. That was dangerous.

The speakers crackled overhead.

“Players, please proceed to the first game.”

The doors opened, revealing a massive outdoor field. Sunlight spilled across the dirt path ahead, leading straight to the oversized, terrifyingly cartoonish doll at the other end.

Thanos let out a low whistle. “Well, that’s unsettling.”

You swallowed hard. “I’ve got a bad feeling about this.”

“Stick with me, babe.” He bumped his shoulder against yours.

You huffed out a laugh, but then—

The song began. The first Red Light rang out.

And then the gunfire.

Bodies dropped. Blood painted the dirt red.

Your breath hitched in your throat. What the hell was this place?

The doll’s head swiveled, its chilling voice calling

“Green Light.”

Thanos moved before he could think, grabbing your hand.

Thanos squeezed your fingers once. His other hand slipped something into your palm—quick, practiced, subtle.

You glanced down. A pill.

You snapped your gaze up to him, heart hammering.

He didn’t look at you. Just whispered under his breath, low enough for only you to hear.

“Take it. It’ll calm you down.”

Red Light.

Neither of you moved.

Your chest was heaving. Your grip on his hand was too tight, fingernails pressing into his skin.

He didn’t let go.

The next Green Light came.

You slipped the pill under your tongue, gripping his hand as you both took another careful step forward.

“Good girl,” he murmured.

Despite the chaos, despite the gunshots and the horror, your stomach flipped.

Another Red Light.

Stillness.

Thanos leaned in, just enough that you felt the heat of him, his breath against your ear. “Told you I’d get you through this.”

You barely had time to process that before the next Green Light.

More steps. More bodies dropping around you.

Your hand was still in his, but this time, you were the one holding on for dear life.

Another Red Light.

Thanos exhaled. “You’re shaking.”

“No shit.” Your voice was thin, barely audible.

He didn’t let go. “We’re almost there.”

Another shot.

Someone’s blood splattered onto your sleeve.

You whimpered, fingers tightening around his.

“Don’t look,” he murmured. “Look at me.”

You did.

And for a moment, there was nothing but him. The warmth of his hand, the steadiness of his grip. His eyes—dark, steady, watching you like you were the only thing keeping him sane.

Stillness.

Silence.

His lips barely moved when he whispered, “If we die, I just wanna say—you’re kinda cute.”

A laugh bubbled in your throat. You bit your lip. “Flirting again?”

Thanos smirked. “Keeps you from freaking out, doesn’t it?”

Green Light.

He pulled you forward.

Your legs were weak, every nerve in your body screaming at you to run, to bolt for the finish line. But you didn’t. You matched his pace. Slow. Steady. Trusting.

One more Red Light.

Thanos swallowed. “We’re gonna make it.”

Your heart slammed against your ribs.

Green Light.

Final steps.

Final seconds.

And then—

The finish line.

Your feet hit solid ground. The two of you collapsed forward, barely catching yourselves.

Thanos exhaled, chest rising and falling with heavy breaths. And then—he laughed. “Told you I’d get you through.”

You let out a breathless laugh of your own, dizzy from fear and adrenaline. “Yeah. You did.”

His hand was still in yours.

And neither of you let go.