#like ik how they work but it still blows my mind

[tobbogan-13]

vinyls are so fucking cool

wdym this circle of plastic with little grooves in it makes music when you spin it and lightly drag a needle on it

[phagodyke]

man I think I fucked uuuuppppp a little 😭

[gothic-thoughts]

OFC I Don't Mind

Toji Fushiguro x Black Fem Reader Smut

MDNI, Roommate!AU, Friends2lovers, Drabble

CW: sending nudes to the wrong person (nightmare fuel), Toji has a job (😭), Toji intimidating you, some smashing at the end

Not proofread

Toji was still at work, typing on his computer when he was slightly startled by someone blowing up his phone, the ringtone repeating over and over in the quiet room. He rolls his eyes and stops typing, initially giving his fingers a break as he picks up his phone to see his lock screen now covered with messages from you, his roommates. They were all photos.

"The fuck…" Toji squints, typing in his password, "I swear to god if it's a bunch of memes…"

He opened the messages and his heart nearly stopped when he saw multiple mirror selfies of you in lingerie, then braless. His eyes were wide, unable to take his eyes off the screen, the only part of him moving was his thumb when his phone dimmed from lack of activity.

You: SHIT! You: FUSHIGURO DON'T LOOK AT THE LAST MESSGE You: *MESSAGE

He snaps out of his trance for a second to read the new message only for his eyes to roam back to the cluster of pictures in his inbox. His eyes look over every intricate design in the blue lace in the first pictures then to the dark brown areolas and smooth-looking skin of your tits in the next ones. A smirk slowly creeps across his face.

You: Im sorry they were meant for my fwb You: Ik ur mad his name is right next to yours on my phone and I clicked too fast. I'm so sorry You: Istg I didn't mean it Toji: Bullshit. You: Im being deadass,im sorry You: Just delete them

He takes a few seconds to read before a smirk creeps across his face.

Toji: I'll be there in 20. You: What, wait don’t hurt me! You: I said I was sorry. I swear it was an accident Toji: I said I’ll be back in 20 minutes. You: Bro relax! You: Just delete them and I swear it’ll never happen again Toji: Apologize in person. I will be there in twenty minutes.

Exactly 20 minutes later you hear the front door unlock and open from your bedroom upstairs, causing you to freeze in fear. His heavy footsteps climb the stairs. His footsteps sounded like thunder as they got louder and louder with him approaching your room. Finally, you heard him stop and knock on your bedroom door. You hold your breath. He waits outside the room for a few seconds and then you hear him knock again. You can hear his evil chuckle echoing throughout the hall. You take a breath and step closer to the locked door. “....Yeah?” "Open the door." “I feel like you gonna swing on me when I do so--” "Just. Open. The door." “Not if you gonna hurt me.” There's an angry sigh and he knocks on the door again. "You have ten seconds before I kick this fucking door in." “Toji, I told you it was an accident! You're doing a lot right now!” There was a short pause, as it became eerily quiet outside the door.

"Nine." “Wha- stop!” "Eight." “Fushiguro, you don't think this is an overreaction!?” "Seven." “Nigga!” "Six." “Alright, alright, fine!” You say unlocking the door before running back to the opposite side of your room. “It's open…” You hear his footsteps on the other side of the door as he walks in. He rolled up his sleeves as he made his way across the room, tossing his jacket onto your bed before he finally reached you with an exhausted sigh.

He sighs and reaches to hold your chin but instead, his thumb traces down your jawline and he tilts your head up to look into his eyes. His expression was no longer angry as he looked you up and down. You let out a shaky breath, finally breathing at the feeling of his surprisingly light touch. A few seconds pass as he stares at you, his thumb continuing to trace around the edge of your lips before finally he speaks. "I enjoyed ‘em a lot. Only thing pissin' me off is the fact they weren't for me." “Oh… oh…” "If you want to take away my anger, I have an idea of how you could do that." “You… you serious?”

He picks you up and tosses you onto your bed, the swiftness knocking the wind out of you before he even mounts you. You look up at him with wide eyes and lick your lips as he grips your wrists, pinning them about your head.

"You ask too many fuckin' questions. Now, lemme see those tits again."

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Half an hour later, you were both sweaty as ragged grunts filled your room. One hand had your fingers hooked into the messy bedsheets while the other held his shoulder as if he'd go somewhere. His hands were firmly planted into the mattress as he continued moving with jealously-driven fervor. Your phone suddenly rings, showing your fuck buddy's number on the screen.

Toji freezes at first, the movement stopping when hearing the phone. He stares down at you for a few seconds as he tries to process all of this as you hear your phone ring again and again. "Answer it." “What?” "Answer. It." You slowly pick up the phone. “H-ello?” Toji is still staring intently at you as he hears your friend on the phone. He lifts both of your legs to his shoulders and begins to move again, uncaring what your friend could hear. The friend laughs over the phone. “You with someone right now?” “Wh-what? N-no, I'm fine, just… in the shower.” “Oh yeah?” The friend chuckles, “That shower must be packing then." “F-uck you.” Toji smirks when he hears your friend laughing in the background before you hang up the phone. “Sh-shut up, you're… acting like you didn't decide to go as deep as possible, you bastard.” He laughs and lifts your body off the bed, holding you in his arms as he pushes you against the nearest wall. "That a complaint?" “No”

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(a/n): sorry if it felt rushed i literally noticed its been a week since I last posted 😅😅😅

[tsukagari]

M!ik 365 spoilers

They are slicing my slice of life!! TnT

The last week I was talking with a classmate about how I was suffering in this arc, and joking around about the fact that (at least on the page I read it), it is marked as a slice of life and comedy, so even if the things seem bad we will get a pretty good funny solution, and I was right...

Until this mind-blowing chapter, when OMG apparently the classic "we have a power system to show the characters strong and evolution:D" goes all the way around and becomes the " having a power system affect the opportunities you have when your abilities don't match with the traditional power and your autonomy is basically nonexistent"

And I mean, it was shown prior with all the "first year cultural festival arc" and with kirio-sempai, but I feel that since it elapsed in the school, where is a controlled environment with profesors and the students council in charge to "control" most of the "bulling" and, more important, the fact that the students are there for learning and are capable to still upgrade their ranks, where you have the tools to improve and people who can provide help, it makes it feel more like a "honor roll" situation

And, even if the low rank situation is presented at the beginning of the arc again, we were more centered on how to make things work and Nova's motivations, so we don't truly understand the situation (?

Sooo seeing how it affects the outside world where your rank defines the rights you have, the food chain system in the netherworld (where you know narnia's argument makes me think about all the rich vs. Poor bullshit system where we live where the government protects more billionaire companies than the citizens) it's just shocking

Like I have knowledge of the world building, but I don't seem to see it before now (?

And the worst part is that the same situation is happening in real life every day and everywhere, and even then, every day we just don't care enough about it

And even if we care, we don't have even half of the tools or support iruma have

Idk it's a little catatonic

[wayfayrr]

I just remembered how sometimes I yell at Link when he does something that annoys me, like if I’m trying to walk across a really skinny plank but he accidentally walks off/falls off, or when I’m trying to run from an enemy but he starts climbing a tree instead. I’ll just be like “Link no! Get off the stupid tree omg ur gonna die!” Or “Link! Stop falling off the platform! I just wanna get to the top already!” Would he be mad at me for yelling at him? Sad? …..?

Then there’s an unrelated issue that isn’t his fault that my controller sometimes drifts, so he’s walked off cliffs before bc it was drifting slightly forward and I didn’t notice. The most annoying one on my controller is when the motion control stops working and I’m trying to aim my bow and arrow but it freezes so I have to quickly manually flick the analog stick so it works again but by then I might’ve already gotten hit. Is he mad at me for these problems?

Oooooooh! Then there’s the whole having to scroll thru the whole menu options when u wanna attach something to ur arrow. Ugh that takes forever! Like I wanted a bomb flower but now I want a keese eyeball and that’s all the way at the other end of the menu! Is he frustrated w that? (Ik technically it’s “paused” when I do that but let’s say he’s still conscious when I’m doing that it’s just everything around him is frozen in time. So like he’s just crouching there waiting for me to finally attach an eyeball lol).

Or what about the sages?? I love them all so much but trying to find them (and the right one when u have all of them) and activate their ability is sometimes annoying. I’ll want Sidon’s shield for a second but instead Tulin does his gust. Or when I’m just trying to pick something up he’ll blow it away lol. What does Tears think of that?

Sorry this got so long. I understand I had like 4 ideas in this ask, they all just came into my mind at once lol.

I think he'd get a bit upset over you yelling at him, he gets that you're worried that he'll get hurt but it's not always his fault? sometimes sure but it's just starting to hurt his feelings more than anything. when you're playing he's just a puppet in your hands and as much as he loves you he's still 'a person'. if you struggle to even put him anywhere near that position soon then well, it's not like you can yell at him again for it right? he doesn't want to upset you after all.

I don't think that he'd ever blame you for console defects like that, hell he could even be behind a good number of them, it's not your fault the game is buggy. The only time he could ever be bothered by it is is you close out of the game because its so buggy, if the game is getting to the point where it's bordering on unplayable he still can't blame you but it'll get under his skin so much more. is he not good enough for you? is his game not good enough for you to work through the glitches? don't be surprised if you can't exit the game or turn off your switch for a bit :3 surely nothing has gotten corrupted or broken beyond repair right? No he hasn't sabotaged it himself, how could he - why would he?

The menu is honestly pretty sucky at times for throwing items and sticking them to your arrows, besides from reshuffling it to get what you need to be closer to where you start scrolling from. I think tears is most likely to get irritated at the games own design for that, because it'd be so much easier for him to just grab what you needed from his pad to fuse it onto one of his arrows but he just can't, he's stuck having to abide by the rules of the game, watching you struggle with the admittedly awful UI Nintendo cursed him with. If he wasn't so stressed about you resetting him - or worse reporting your 'faulty' copy of the game. he'd take his own steps to make it better for you - maybe he'll even do it earlier if you carry on struggling like this. He just needs to get more confident about it <3

the sages probably mess with him so much, he wants you ALONE and now he's constantly got these guys running around him?? he's gotta interact with them to try and get his abilities (lwk this could make him more jealous of wild who gets to have you one on one all of the time) And most of the sages abilities are optional anyway so I mean, maybe you won't notice if he simply disables them right? he won't delete them outright so if you miss them you can use them but if you don't reactivate them? maybe he could.... so then it'll be just you and him, just link.

[ghostlychief]

Don’t Blame Me

Pairing: MW2 Ghost x f!reader

Summary: They say love makes you crazy, so can they really blame you?

Warnings: mentions of blood, knife usage (stabbing, stabbing people’s eyes, eyes being ripped out of socket); mentions of combat fighting; hints of torture and injuries from torture; typical MW2 lore

NSFW, MINORS DNI: blowjob, fingering, eating pussy; missionary; creampie; aftercare

WC: 7k+ (IK IT’S LONG)

A/N: hello hello! here is the long awaited ghost fic that’s been in development for quite awhile. Thank you so much for participating in my pole, and i hope you enjoy!!! I really let myself indulge in more of the gore this time around, so please read with caution if that kind of content bothers you.

ENJOY🫶🏻🖤

--

You didn’t know blood could be this thick.

But, as you cut through the swarm of your opponents, you really don’t care how much of it gets on your clothes, seeps into your crevasses, and splashes on your face. No, you really don’t give a shit. Your only objective is to get to Ghost, and quickly.

All you see is red, literally.

Before you even fully process what you’re doing, the knife in your hand has already sunk into a neck, blood spurting everywhere, drenching you further.  You carry on, the one person you’re trying to reach at the forefront of your mind.

Should you have felt some remorse for the lives you ended? Probably, but it was like you brain was turned off. Actually, no, that’s incorrect. It was like your brain was wired differently, like it was wired to focus on one thing and one thing only: retrieve Ghost.

You can’t recall when you two got separated, or when he got captured in your last mission. All you remember is the pain you felt when you noticed he’d been taken.

You could blame yourself for his capture, but you decided to turn your fury towards someone else rather than yourself. You realized over the years that self-loathing wasn’t very efficient. It tends to waste time.

It was easy after all; it’s not hard to hold contempt towards the people that stole your lover away from you.

This was their doing. I’m only showing them the consequences of their actions.

It’s what you had to tell yourself. Otherwise, you didn’t see how you were going to come out of this alive. You had to redirect your rage, your frenzy. You had to channel it through your veins, making sure it heated you, and coursed through in a way that burned.

It had to be this way. It was the only way to help you be relentless against your opponents.

You were pretty proud of your knife skills; it was your favorite weapon after all. You always made sure to carry at least two with you at all times.

Today, you strapped on four and you were lucky, since you lost your first two about ten minutes ago. They were no doubt lodged into someone lying on the ground, pierced through their eye. That was your sweet spot, never failing you to effectively take down your opposition.

By this point, it felt like you had sliced your way through a hundred men and yet you still haven’t reached the door of the facility Ghost was being held in. Hope was on the horizon though because you could faintly make out the top of the door frame, which egged you on further. Your muscles worked tirelessly as your arms continued to swing at the men attacking you.

Occasionally, you would move your arms in a quick jabbing motion, repeatedly stabbing the opponent in the stomach and then you would land one last finally blow to their eye, your signature move some would say.

One of the downsides of this move was that sometimes, it took a lot of strength to pull your knife back out of the eye (hence your missing knives), which resulted in pulling their eyeball clear and out of its socket.

Not the best outcome of this tactic, but it is what it is.

Unfortunately, for your last victim, this very thing happened. You were thankful when his screams died down quickly.

You had a moment to catch your breath, hanging your head, quivering hands resting on your upper thighs. You looked up just in time to see someone charging at you, yelling, and with their own knives in their hands.

You noticed that they were the only one alive left outside.

One more. I can take care of him.

You swiftly moved to the side, but could hear the whisp of his blade cutting through the air. That was no good- he got too close.

Time to fix that.

Since you were so deft in your knife wielding ability, you also had a knack of being light on your feet and quick. Something that certainly benefited you.

While the man was no doubt taller and heavier than you, you were faster and anticipated his movements with ease. Sooner than later he too was on the ground, finished, with a sliver blade in his left eye, your red hand-grip the only thing you could see sticking out of his head.

You decided to leave it there, as a parting gift of course.

That’s where you got your nickname, Red Eye, seeing that your weapon of choice was wrapped in a blood-red grip that blended in with the blood that seeped out of your victims’ eye sockets. You thought the nickname was silly at first, but you just grew to accept it over the years. What can you say, you like the fancifulness of it every once in a while.

While you always had reputation, this name made your reputation grow into something almost bigger. While your peers and opponents knew you as the women with the red soaked blades, this name gave you a more, how should you put it?

Eerie reputation.

After stepping over your last remaining victim, you finally reach the double doors, leading into the building Ghost is being held captured in.

Before you entered though, you heard a voice through your comms. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you, Red Eye.”

Fuck me.

You hear Soap over the comms, “Wait for backup. We’re detecting three bodies via heat signatures”

You let out a groan, but made sure that your comms didn’t pick up on that.

“We don’t have time for that. I need to engage now.”

“You will do no such thing.” You hear Price’s voice cut through, stopping you from opening the doors.

“It’s a miracle you made it this far without any back up. Don’t test my patience.”

Ok, so you may have left without anyone knowing and got a two-hour head start before the rest of your team caught up to your location.

It’s just- they were taking, what it seemed like, forever to develop a plan to get your boyfriend out of captivity. You get it, logistics need to be air tight. But this was Ghost, Simon. Your Simon out there.

You knew he could handle what was given to him, but that didn’t ease any worry or hurt left in your heart, and it made you see red with anger.

That’s how your more or less ended up here, alone, slicing through about 30 men all by yourself. Not the smartest move you admit, but you had to get to Simon. You knew his time was running down, like a sand timer, each minute gone left him more perilous than before.

You were definitely going to get your ass kicked tomorrow at debrief.

You were just about to go in, thinking to hell with listening to orders, when you hear at least two sets of feet jogging across the gravel.

“Jesus, Red Eye. Leave any for the rest of us?”

You just roll your eyes at Soap, ignoring his comment. “C’mon guys, we need to hurry. Let’s take the last of the fuckers out and get Ghost back home.”

“Roger that.”

You go in first taking point, Soap and Kӧnig flanking you.

This time around, you have your handgun out, but your knife is safely held with your left hand, resting on the underside of the muzzle.

The hallway is dark, but it’s to your advantage. You think you see a light source coming from the hallway on the left that you’re coming up to, so you raise your left hand and point in that direction, signaling to Soap and Kӧnig.

This is where you come across the first person.

We must be close.

You let Kӧnig take him out. He comes up swiftly behind him and locks an arm around the man’s throat. First knocking him out, but then ultimately, finishing the job.

You three continue down the long corridor. They seem to go on forever. Sweat drips down your temple, and you hastily swipe it away, not wanting anything to obstruct your vision.

As you come closer to the end of the hallway, you start to hear something.

You raise your hand to signal Soap and Kӧnig to stop, and turn around so they can see you raise your pointer finger up to your lips.

You listen for the sound again, and you realize what it is this time.

Your blood runs cold, and goosebumps form on your arms, freezing you in place as you listen to the deafening sound that doesn’t seem to stop.

Ghost is screaming.

You don’t think you’ve ever heard him be this loud, let alone sound so full of pain. You have to pull it together though, you’re almost to him.

You continue on, making a right this time, and Ghost’s screams become louder. It’s good and bad of course. Good because he’s near you and you’re close, bad because he hasn’t stopped screaming.

You wonder how long this has been going on for.

You feel a heavy weight float down your chest, that takes its resting place in your heart. You find it hard to breath, and it takes every fiber in your being not to go into full panic mode.

You get closer and closer to the room Ghost is in, but you don’t hear him anymore. There is no one outside guarding, so the remaining two people must be inside with him.

Your stomach churns over.

You hadn’t realized it, but you fell behind both Soap and Kӧnig, but without a beat, they took your spot at point, leading you to the door.

They bust in first and immediately go after the two men that were standing by Ghost, who is strapped to a chair. It’s your job to get Ghost free of his confines.

But when you look at him, you freeze all over again.

He’s slumped in the chair, hands and feet bound by thick ropes that are no doubt leaving crude burns in his skin.

His pants have rips and holes in them and from further examination, you realize it’s from cigarette burns and cuts from blades.

You can’t see any damage on his arms but you’re worried what his shirt is hiding on his torso. You realize he’s slumped because he’s knocked out cold, probably from a concussion. But you know he’s alive because you see the slight rise and fall of his chest. It’s ever so faint, but it’s there.

You look around the room and notice a medium size table with different kinds of weapons and tools splayed out along the length of the table. You notice some have dried blood on them, while other tools are still dripping red. Rags litter the table as well. They’re dirty and also have traces of lingering blood.

Once again, you feel the embers burning through you, and you feel like you’re about to explode into a fury of rage.

You turn towards the two men that Soap and Kӧnig took down.

The two bodies lie on the floor and before you realize what you’re doing, you crouching over the first man, and with your blade, you start stabbing both of his eyes, switching on and off between the left and right. While you do this, a blood curdling scream leaves your lips.

It’s both terrifying and heartbreaking; a fine line dances between the two.

You snarl at the now eyeless man before you crawl your way over to his counterpart and release the same anger and revenge onto him. Your screech never faltering.

You don’t realize what you’re doing until you feel strong arms come up behind you and lift you off the dead man.

You start fighting their hold and it’s then when you start crying, your scream turning into a sob. The exhaustion finally getting to you.

“We got him. He’s going to be ok; it’s going to be ok.”

That’s the last thing you hear before everything goes black.

--

When you wake, you notice you’re lying on something soft. When you come to, you realize you’re on a bed, under a thin layer of covers and your head rests on a firm pillow.

You squint because the lights are overly bright but when they adjust, you notice the infamous florescent glow, meaning, you’re in the medical ward of the base.

You sit up, and you notice no aches or pains outside of your regular soreness you felt after fighting for an extended period of time. Your head also hurts, but you don’t really care.

You want to know where Simon is.

You notice a nurse a few feet away and you wave her over.

“Excuse me, but why am I in here?”

She gives you a tight-lipped smile. If you didn’t know any better, you would say that she’s nervous. She fidgets with her hands before answering you.

“Well miss, you fainted on your last mission. They brought you here to be examined.”

She moves over to the end of your bed and takes out the clipboard that resided in the pocket.

“Here, let’s see.” She looks over your paper before looking back at you, still with a trace of uneasiness.

“Seems like everything is OK. Your vitals are normal, and you have no major injuries, just some light bruising on your arms and hands. You are welcome to leave when you want.”

You glance down and notice the light purple that spans across your knuckles.

Before she can scurry away, you ask, “Wait, where are they keeping Ghost?” You shake your head, “I mean, Simon Riley.”

A look of pity crosses her face before she answers, “He’s in Ward C miss; the intensive care unit.”

She leaves before you can ask her anything else.

What the fuck was her problem?

You jump out of your bed, but immediately regret that decision when your head starts to throb right above your left eye.

Now is not the time for a migraine.

You make sure you have all of your belongings before you rush over to Ward C. Right before you are about to enter through the doorway, Price comes through and stops you with a hand placed on your shoulder.

He looks down at you – you’re really getting tired of being the shortest on the team- and squeezes your shoulder gently.

“Before you go in there, guns-a-blazing, he’s doing ok, alright?”

You just stare up at him and nod. Although it was good to hear Simon was doing ok, whatever the hell that meant, you still had so much anger left in you. So much you were hoping that just the sight of Simon healing would help quell you.

You walk past Price, a determined spring in your step, ready to be reunited with Simon. It’s been so long since you’ve last seen him.

Three weeks.

Three weeks he was gone, and you thought he was never coming back.

The intensive care unit is unusually empty so it’s not hard to find which bed Simon is occupying.

You quietly walk up to the side of the bed, and you are finally by his side.  

“You don’t have to tiptoe around me bug, I’m awake.”

Simon’s voice startles you and your head turns towards his. You notice his left arm is in a sling but a lazy smile graces his lips.

If you weren’t in a medical facility on base, out in the open to the prying eyes of the public, you would have immediately burst out crying just at the sound of his voice.

Instead, you let out a breathy, “I thought I lost you.”

Unlike Simon, your face has no hint of happiness. Your lips are slightly turned down, quivering and your eyes start to well up with tears, but you will them not to drop.

Your hands are balled up in fists but you bring yourself back down. You are here for him after all; it’s not the other way around.

You slowly unclench your fists and then gingerly sit down on the side of Simon’s bed, right at his hip.

That’s when you bring your hand up to trace down the side of his face, feeling the familiar stubble that never fails to tickle you when he kisses you.

Your hand comes back up to rub his cheek and you say again, “I thought I lost you, Simon.”

He brings his hand up to cup yours that still rests on his face. “I know, I know. But I’m here, and I’m ok.”

“Are you though?” You can’t fight it anymore, the tears stream down your face, their streaks burning your skin.

His hand that was resting on yours comes up to rub your head. “Promise.”

After that, you and Simon laid in his hospital bed for the remainder of the day. He fell in and out of sleep, but you were just thankful he was alive and breathing next to you.

--

It’s been about three weeks since Simon’s been back. He’s out of his sling and most of his bruises and wounds have healed. Expect for the deeper lacerations on his thighs. He also has some scarring from the cigarette butts. But over all, you would say he’s doing pretty alright, all things considered.

You’re both currently on base, since you needed to attend multiple meetings today, and you’re eating lunch in the cafeteria.

“So, I heard you went kind of, feral, when you came to rescue me.” Simon has an innocent look on his face, but you see him trying to hid his shit eating grin.

You narrow your eyes at him, “And who did you hear that from?”

He just shrugs nonchalantly, “No one in particular.”

You scoff. Fucking Soap.

You knew he must have told someone, if not Simon himself. He was quite the gossiper.

What a fucker.

“Well, did you want me to ask them to be friends?”

Simon lets out a low laugh. “That would have been funny.” You look up at him and see his eyes are lit with amusement.

You let out a sigh, but a ghost of a smile dances across your lips. You know he’s feeling better since he’s joking around.

--

Another three weeks has passed and you find yourself in the typical meeting room. The one you all use before a mission. That means this will be your last debrief before you jet off to where ever the location is in a few days.

The meeting goes well up until the part where Price says “And Ghost, you will wait here at the rendezvous point.”

You interrupt him, “Wait what?”

The room goes silent as you stare down Price.

“There’s no way Simon is going on this mission. Nope. Not happening.”

“Well, y/n, you don’t really have a say in this. Do you?”

The trace of condescendence has you short circuiting but you keep your cool. You glare at Price, “If Simon’s going on this mission, then count me out.” You don’t notice the slip of his name. Usually at work you call Simon Ghost or LT, but never Simon.

You storm out of the room and head back to your desk to gather your things to leave.

You hear someone lightly jogging behind you, and you have a hunch about who it is that followed you out.

You feel a hand softly grab your elbow and you hear Simon plead, “Wait.”

You sigh and turn around. Looking up at him you confess, “Look, I need to cool off for a bit. We can talk at home, ok?”

You see Simon contemplate whether to let you go or not, but he just gives you a curt nod. He gives your arm a gentle squeeze where his hand still rests, “Ok, see you at home.” --

You basically scowl your whole way home. Listen, you know you have some slight anger issues, but you’re working on it.

You get home after the long day and quickly make way to the shower, needing to feel the hot water run down your head and back. That will calm me, you think.

Once you step out of the shower, you already feel better. You’re clean, and you smell like your favorite soap. You change and do your normal routine after a shower then head to the kitchen to make yourself a warm cup of tea.

Evening tea is one of your favorite treats and it always seems to quell your nerves. Because that’s what you are right now, nervous.

You don’t want to fight with Simon, no, not at all. But you can’t help but feel frustrated at Price, and subsequently him, for deciding that he’s ready to go back in the field. Because from your perspective he’s not. Hell, it’s barley been a month and a half, and you think he needs more time to cope with what happened to him.

Sure, he’s seeing the base’s therapist, and he’s doing everything he can to keep his physical body healthy, yet you can’t help but the ball of worry that has formed in the pit of your stomach, fester. Something keeps nagging at you, and you don’t know what it is.

You just don’t understand how Simon can bounce back so quickly.

Luckily you didn’t have to wait too long for Simon to get home. And when he does, you find yourself perking up on the couch when you hear him come through the door.

He lets out a soft “Hey,” in which you respond just as softly back.

“I’m going to go shower and wash up, but then we can talk, yeah?”

You give him a nod, but also confirm, “Sure, that sounds good.”

His shower felt like eternity, but you know you only feel this way because you’re on edge. Again, you don’t want to fight with him. You just, you love him so much, you can’t stand to lose him again. No, it can’t happen again.

You hear soft footsteps on the tile as Simon makes his way through the kitchen to the living room where you’re still seated on the couch.

You look up at him before he sits down and grant him a quiet smile, and reach out your hand to his. His large hand grasps yours in his, and his thumb traces your knuckles. He then sits down next to you, and now his fingers are tracing over yours, relaxing you just a smidge.

You can feel his warmth radiating off of you instantly, and it takes ever thing in you to not glue yourself to his side.

You both slightly turn to each other, and funnily enough you each say “So,” at the same time.

You giggle and he lets out a low chuckle that makes your insides swarm. You miss him.

“You go first, bug.” The hand that has been tracing yours pulls you closer to him, and he embraces you in a warm hug as you both sit on the couch.

Before you start, you simply just bask in Simon’s embrace, not wanting to let go just yet. You begrudgingly pull away, but still keep your fingers connected in their little dance.

“I’m sorry for storming out today at our meeting. That was unprofessional, and uncalled for, but I just don’t see why you have to go on our next mission.”

“Aren’t you still hurting from what happened to you on the last one? I guess I just don’t understand why you want to go back in the field so soon.”

There’s a pause before you add, “How do you know you’re ready to go back?”

One thing you appreciate about Simon is that he never interrupts you, and he always lets you finish your complete thought before adding his.

When he can tell you’re done, he sighs and says, “Because, y/n, that’s what we’re trained for.”

“I wouldn’t have this job if I couldn’t put the pieces back together after every mission.”

You guess that makes sense, but you’re still concerned about him.

“Listen, I get that, I really do. I guess what I want to make sure of is that you’re actually doing ok and that you’re working through whatever happened to you.”

He’s told you the gist of what happened, and he confides in you whenever he feels like he needs the extra support, but you know that there are some things he’s still hiding. Which, you’re not going to push him to tell you, but you hope at some point he does.

He gives you a slight smile, “That’s why I love you. You’re always looking out for me, and I appreciate it so much, but I’m really doing fine, ok?”

He shifts so he’s leaning in closer to you, and now it’s his turn to cup your jaw with his hand. He tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, and you nod at his answer. “I love you too.”

“That’s what I like to hear.”

You grant him a smile in return and then he pulls you in for a kiss.

--

The kiss deepens and before you know it, you’re straddling his lap, one leg on either side of his thick torso. You’re a mess as you straddle him, and you wrap your arms around his neck, wanting to be closer to him, if even possible.

He wraps his arms around you and subconsciously pulls you closer to him. His large hands span across your back as he holds you close to him. Your center brushes against his you let out a moan when you feel this contact. You run your hands down his neck and shoulders, feeling the taught muscles underneath his black t-shirt. As you rock your hips against his, you hear him let out a moan, which only eggs you on further.

“Fuck, y/n. Keep doing that again.” His hands travel down to hold you hips, almost as if he’s trying to help you move against him.

Your hands move in tandem and they come to rest at the base of his t-shirt, your fingers playing with the hem. You’re itching to take it off of him, and he seems to understand what you want, because he pauses kissing you to help you take off his shirt.

Now shirtless, you bring your hands up to his shoulders and then trail them slowly down his torso, nails ever so slightly scraping against his skin. You can feel each ridge and bump from his abs before your reach the hem of his sweatpants. Your fingers graze over his happy trail before you start toying with his sweats.

You run one finger along the hem of his grey sweats, then ever so slightly, your finger enters his pants, you run your finger under his sweatpants. You’re teasing him, and you can tell he’s getting antsy by the way he shifts as your finger runs along the band of his briefs.

As you continue to tease him, you trail or lips over his chest. Your lips wrap around one of his nipples, the unpierced one, and you softly bite him before you run your tongue over his nipple, suckling.

He moans out a gentle “Fuck,” and one of his hands comes up to grasp your hair.

You move over to his other nipple, the pierced one to be exact, and you once again softly bite him then suck. You make sure to spend your time here because you know this is one of Simon’s favorite thing during foreplay. Once he’s taken care of there, you continue to trail your lips down his abdomen, and now you’re finally at his center.

You get off his lap and sit on the floor in-between his spread legs. You place your hands right above his knees, and you look up at him with your swollen lips.

“You’re going to be good for me tonight, right?” You rub your thumbs in soft circles on his legs, waiting for his answer.

You see him gulp as he looks down at you, and then his lips quirk, in a smirk.

“What do you say?” Your hands stop their ministrations and you tilt your head, understanding what he wanted.

“Please.”

His smirk deepens, “Good girl.”

At his greenlight, you come up on your knees so that you can reach him better. Your trail the hem on his sweatpants one last time before you start pulling them down off his hips, making sure that his briefs come off too. He lifts his butt to help you, and now you’ve successfully taken his pants and underwear off.

You greedily take in the size of him. His dick is hard and slightly curved as it lays against his stomach. You wrap your hand around him, he’s so thick that your hand doesn’t close around it the whole way. You pump him slowly, as you look at him. His eyes are blown out and he leans his head back against the couch. You smile at him before you lower yourself. You link one strip up his dick, making him squirm underneath you. You then you bring up your hand to start pumping him. As your hand moves up and down, your lips come up to kiss the to crown of his dick.

You look up at him again, locking eyes and then wrap your lips around him. Once your lips make contact, he lets out a low moan. You continue to sink down on him. You move your head up and down, trying to adjust to his size. The part of his dick that you can’t fit into your mouth, you cover with your hand, pumping him up and down.

Your hair falls around you, and at this, Simon carefully takes your hair into one hand, putting it into a makeshift ponytail.

“Fuck, baby that feels so good.”

You continue to suck on him, hollowing out your cheeks. You know he’s close when you see his abs start to clench and his legs start to stiffen.

The moans he lets out has your getting wetter and wetter by the minute, and you squirm, trying to ease some of the pent-up tension you’re feeling.

Your unoccupied hand comes down to play with his balls, gently squeezing them and that is what does him in. He lets out a louder groan and you feel his warm come shoot down your throat.

You keep your mouth on him, cleaning him up before you slowly take yourself off him. You wipe your lips with the back of your hand and you sit back on your heels, smiling at him.

He runs a hand through his hair, and lets out a low chuckle.

“Damn, you really did a number on me there.” You laugh yourself and you come up to the couch, sitting beside him so you can turn his head to give him a lingering kiss.

You give him a few pecks, “What can I say, I’m good at what I do.” Your eyes are bright as you look at him, and his hold the same amount of affection and adoration.

His low voice cuts through you, “Now it’s my turn to make you feel good, alright?”

You give him a brief nod, “Please.”

He pulls you back into him, and then starts to push you back so you’re lying on the couch under him. He’s kissing you frantically now, his tongue entering your mouth.

“Take your pants off for me, would you?” His hands make their way to take your shirt off, and while he does that, you slip out of your shorts, underwear gone with them.

“Thank you, baby.”

He keeps kissing you as his hand comes down to your center. He first cups you, and then brings his pointer finger to rub against your clit. As his pointer is stimulating your clit, his middle and ring finger run along your slit, gathering up all the wetness that formed over the course of the last half hour.

You see him bring his coated fingers up to you. “Taste for me,” he breathes. And without any hesitation, you suck on his fingers, tasting yourself, making sure to look at Simon while you lick his fingers. He watches you with fire in his eyes.

“Good girl.”

You’ll never get tired of hearing him call you that.

He brings his hand back down to your pussy and then enters two fingers in you, stretching you out deliciously. You whine as his fingers enter you; they feel so good inside you.

Luckily for you, your boyfriend has quite large hands, which equated to long, thick fingers, and he always knew what to do with them.

He starts picking up the pace, and the squelching sound his fingers make is deafening, and the only thing you can focus on as they move in and out of you.

You didn’t even have to ask before he’s adding in a third. You feel yourself clench around him, and you’re already losing your mind and he hasn’t even properly fucked you yet.

He’s hitting you right in your sweet spot, and your hands come up to hold him by the shoulders. He moves down ever just a hair, and you’re not sure why until he lowers his head. He spits, and then connects his lips with your clit, moving his tongue around your sensitive bud.

The addition to his lips on your clit has you seeing stars and you start to feel that familiar build up. You tumble over the edge, a bright warmness spreading through you.

Simon removes his lips and fingers from you and you’re both panting heavily. He’s bracing himself with one arm as he looks down at you.

Your hair is messily strewn across the couch behind you, and your eyes are bright. Your chest moves up and down as you try and catch your breath. You smile up at him, this time your teeth showing.

He gives you a peck on your lips. “How was that?”

You sigh, “Amazing.”

Another kiss is pressed on your lips and you can faintly taste yourself on him.

“I want to properly fuck you, and that can’t be done on the couch. Bedroom, yeah?”

You nod up at Simon acquiescing to his suggestion.

“Alright, up you go then.”

He swiftly pulls you up and off the couch into his arms. You squeal at the sudden movement but it turns into giggles as Simon carries you bridal style to the bedroom.

“Wow, my night in shining armor.” You lazily loop your hands around his neck as he leads you both to the room. He just laughs at your statement.

Once there, he gently deposits you on the bed, and wastes no time picking up where you left off.

He crawls on top of you and starts to kiss you up your stomach and chest, finally reaching your mouth. His kiss leaves you burning, and your hands eagerly reach for him, pulling him down further into you.

You wrap your legs around his torso, and feel his dick brush up against your center, hard once again.

He pulls away to look at you, eyes connecting. “Do you need any more prep?” He brings a hand up to brush away some of the flyway hairs that covered your face. His hand lingers, cupping your head, and his thumb brushes your cheek in a soothing back and forth motion.

Smiling you answer, “No, I’m good.”

“Ok.”

Bracing himself above you, his hand trails down to grasp his dick. He gives it a few pumps before running it along your slits, and lightly taps it on your overly sensitive clit.

He then slowly guides it into you, the stretch much bigger than what his fingers could offer. You both let out a sigh as he fully sinks into you, eyes connecting at this very moment. Once he’s fully inside, he gives you some time to adjust, his hand moving to hold your hips, thumb moving in circles.

“You okay?” He asks, looking down at you. You look up at him, “Yeah, I’m good, you can start moving.”

At your consent for him to move, he does just that. He pulls his hips back before he pushes them back into you. He starts off with a steady pace, not too fast, not too slow. You’re surprised he’s not pounding into you relentlessly like he usually does. This time his thrusts are much more calculated, calm, like he’s got all the time in the world. The slower drag of him against your walls makes you roll your eyes back, reveling in the feeling of him.

It’s only him, that’s all you can think about, all you can feel. You let go of the heaviness you’ve been feeling to focus on being with him now. It’s not hard, he makes you feel like you’re floating anyways.

Your fingers run down his face, down his shoulders, taking in as much as you can of him. Then you run your hand down his tattooed arm, mapping the intricate details of his tattoos and running over the protruding veins due to him propping himself up. Simon watches you as you run your hand across him.

He gives you a particular harsher thrust, eyes trained on you when you moan and clutch his arm a harder. He picks up the pace just a little, loving the way you look beneath him, taking his cock so well.  

“Fuck. Right there, baby,” you breathe. He hits that same spot again, but this time you move up the bed a little from the force of his hips. Your breasts jiggle as you shift up the bed and Simon’s eyes are travel to your chest. He brings his hand up to up one of them, rolling his thumb over your nipple. Simon keeps this faster rhythm with his hips, slamming into your now quivering pussy, showing you no mercy as he pounds into you with force.

His thrusts are powerful that leave the breath knocked out of you.

He removes his hand from your breast to wrap it around your leg. He positions your leg so it’s resting on his shoulder, now giving him a new angle into you. This position allows you to feel him move even deeper inside you, now feeling the tip of his dick hit your cervix, which makes you whine. His thrusts continue their hard motions, but his pace starts to slow down.

Simon’s hips start to falter a little bit in their smooth rhythm, a telltale sign he’s close. At his praising, you unconsciously clench around him, making him breathe out a silent curse as his hand tightens on your leg that is propped up on his shoulder.

“Si, I’m close,” you whine. You feel so full, so consumed by all things Simon, the only thing you can focus on is him and the building orgasm that threatens to spill over.

“Me too.” Simon removes his hand that’s been propping your leg up and moves it down to your clit, and starts to rub slow circles on the bud, making you squirm. You bring your leg down from his shoulder to wrap it around his torso once again pulling him closer to you. You drag your hands down and up his back as his thumb continues to abuse your clit. “Fuck, you feel so good.”

With a few more thrusts from Simon and the quick movements of his finger on your clit, you feel the coil in you snap, and it snaps hard. Your orgasm washes over you, a blinding white light that makes you feel like you’re going to pass out, and you call out his name one last time.

Your eyes squeeze shut and you see stars, as your pussy clamps down hard on Simon’s dick. He’s a moaning mess above you as he feels your orgasm that’s traveling through your body, your walls contracting around him.

He curses out a soft “fuck baby” and then he’s following just a hair behind you, traveling over his precipice as well, emptying inside of you. You feel his come paint your walls as your pussy continues to clench around him, as you ride out your second orgasm of the night.

He collapses on top of you but is careful not to crush you completely. You’re breathing heavy as you both come down from your highs, both sweaty messes.

He lifts his head to look at you. There’s a soft smile on his face and you smile back.

“I love you.”

“I love you too, bug.”

Your smile falters, “I never want you to leave me like that ever again. Got it?” Your voice is firm, but there’s an underlying trace of tenderness. Your hand comes up to push his hair back, waiting for his answer.

“Never.”

“Good.” You pull him back down to you for a kiss.

He slowly peels himself off of you and whispers out, “Wait here.”

You lay on your back, legs bent as you wait for Simon’s return. When you hear him entering the bedroom, you slightly sit up and you notice a washcloth in one of his hands.

He kneels back on the bed and gingerly pries your legs open so he can clean you up. He delicately starts wiping your center, his first few strokes making you writhe due to oversensitivity. His hand rests tenderly on your knee, thumb stroking back and forth as he wipes you clean. He must have run the washcloth under hot water because it’s wet and feels warm against your skin.

When he’s done, he pecks the inside of your knee and gets up off the bed to go throw the washcloth in the hamper. When he returns to you, he’s in his boxers, and he has a t-shirt in his hand.

“For you, my lady.” You laugh at him and take his shirt, pulling the soft material over your body.

You both clamber under the covers, and are now wrapped up in Simon’s arms.

There’s no place you’d rather be right now, and you’re so thankful the universe allowed you another chance to be with him like this.

If he didn’t make his way back to you, you don’t even know what you would have done. Probably would have gone mental, but who could really blame you?

[redmyeyes]

more.

Tim, drunk, was a study in contradictions. He could be as fiery as a housewife and petulant as a teenaged boy, or, like now, loose-limbed and soft, as he let Hawk drink and drink and drink from his mouth, his face cradled in Hawk's hands. So soft. Pliable as warm putty, the way he leaned bonelessly forward to let Hawk worship.

Around them, the chatter of The Cosy Corner was distant and muted, as though they were underwater. Tim's mouth was soft and open, his tongue lazy, and Hawk had long ago lost all track of time. What did it matter? In this moment, Hawk felt like he could keep kissing Tim forever. What a luxury it was to forget.

More than the alcohol, Tim seemed drugged, thick lashes fluttering as his eyes refused to open. His arms hung heavy by his sides, as if he had no energy—no purpose—for anything other than this. Hawk had never seen anything like it. There was no one like this boy, no one so responsive. No one so easily sent down, beneath the fog he was currently under. Hawk groaned into Tim's mouth, diving deeper as though he could suss out the contradictions of him by taste. That strong, fiercely intelligent, passionate mind. This willing submission. A gift. The boy was a gift. So ready to obey, even from the moment they'd met. So instantly receptive.

Hard enough in times like these to find a quick fuck. Harder still to find someone willing to accept the kind of control Hawk liked to dish out. This wasn't just willingness. This was a gift, offered up like something sacred. He was a delight, a rarefied breed, willing and responsive and god, Hawk could drown in him, he really could. This boy. His boy. His Skippy.

"You would drop to your knees and blow me right here if I told you to," Hawk said, marveling at the realization. He nipped at Tim's lower lip, sharp, then bit down and pulled back, so that Tim was dragged even further out of his chair towards Hawk.

"If I told you to get under the table and keep my cock warm. I could be having dinner with Ike himself, and you'd be on your knees blissed out of your mind, mouthing at my cock just like you're mouthing at my tongue now. Utterly shameless." The words were murmured between soft licks and nips and still Tim had not opened his eyes. He did, however, make a barely audible keening noise that made Hawk grin, feral and predatory. "Like that idea, don't you. Like being my shameless boy."

Here, he pulled back, just enough to focus on the soft angles of Tim's face. The boyish fullness of his cheeks and lips. His nose and his ears were too big for his face, by classical proportions. His grin too wide, his hair a foppish mop that refused to be tamed. His eyes, when they opened, slow-blinking at Hawk in confusion through his thick glasses, were simply brown. A brown that, when his glasses were removed, became rich chocolate pools that glittered with playfulness and softened with fondness. His mouth, always so alive, twisting up into a wry questioning smile as Hawk drank him in. His boy. "Shameless," he said again softly. "You are, aren't you." A soft press of lips just below the rim of his glasses. "Without shame." A kiss to the opposite cheek. "Because you want whatever I'll give you."

Back to the other side, behind his ear, to that spot that made Tim's pulse race and his breathing come fast. Lingering sucks and soft nips as he worked his way down Tim's neck, but never enough to mark. How he wanted to though.

Hawk pulled back again, taking Tim's chin in hand and giving it a gentle shake. "Tell me," he said, and watched Tim's eyes flutter slowly open.

"I want it," Tim breathed, sounding half-delirious. Fascinated, Hawk slid his thumb over Tim's lips, watching as his tongue darted out to lick at the pad, then drew the thumb between his lips to start suckling.

Mesmerizing. Hawk was mesmerized. He allowed the indulgence for a moment, then drew his thumb out shiny-wet and tapped Tim's lips in playful reprimand. "Tell me what you want," he corrected. "Be specific, you might get it."

"More. Everything. I want everything," Tim said, breathless, his big brown doe eyes watery and pleading, and, god, if he didn't sound one hundred percent sincere.

Hawk stood, his hand resting heavy on Tim's head, and tilted Tim's neck back so he was forced to look up. "My beautiful boy," Hawk said, combing his hand through Tim's hair. He edged closer, nudging Tim's knees wide as he stepped between them. "Tell me you wouldn't. Every soul in here would turn and watch. The band would stop playing, just to stare. You'd have a captive audience, a full house."

Tim blinked, his eyes darting around as though just now remembering where he was. He licked his lips unconsciously, his mouth dropping open, and Hawk's lips curled into a pleased smile. "My god, you do like that idea. Someday, I'll take you to a place where we can make that happen."

All at once he dropped Tim's head and stepped back. "Up," he commanded, nodding at Tim. Warily, Tim stood, and Hawk let his eyes drift slowly over the reedy length of him, his disheveled appearance, the loosened tie, the ill-fitting brown tweed— and yes, quite the obvious hard-on, tenting his trousers. "Follow me."

Hawk scanned the room out of habit as he walked, not looking back to make sure Tim was following. Up the curving stairs to the second balcony, past the shadowed alcoves with couples scattered among couches and comfy chairs, onto a narrow walkway along the side that overlooked the main floor. Here, he stopped, sliding back against the wall between two large columns. When Tim looked at him in confusion, Hawk simply nodded wordlessly, directing Tim to his knees with a raised eyebrow and quirk of his lips. Well? the look said.

Tim shuddered visibly, darting a quick glance over his shoulder at the room beyond. They were high enough up that they wouldn't be seen from below, pressed back between the columns, but the low murmurs of people chatting, the clanking silverware, the velvet singing underpinning it all—it was all so present, so whole and sharp. And, as out of the way as this spot was, there was always the possibility that someone could walk directly past. Hawk watched Tim take all this in and then turn back to face him, meeting his eyes before slowly sinking to his knees. God, such a good boy.

Tim moved to take his glasses off, and Hawk interceded. "Leave them on," he said, cupping Tim's cheek. "I want you able to see me. Want you to see how hot you make me. All for you, Skippy."

Tim's eyes fluttered like they wanted to close, but he kept looking at Hawk as he worked open Hawk's trousers and pulled him out. His mouth dropped open and his eyes finally closed as he dove in, but Hawk let it slide, the warm wet shock of Tim's mouth too heady to do anything but react. God, his mouth. Inexpert but so enthusiastic. And getting better every time. Sometimes Hawk took his boy's head in both hands, fucked his mouth until he gagged, tears streaming from his eyes and drool from his mouth. Tonight, he made Tim do all the work, one thumb reverently stroking Tim's cheek as his other hand rested heavy on his head. Not pressing, not directing. Just— a reminder.

He tilted Tim's head back until his cock popped out of the boy's mouth, just to see Tim's lips swollen shiny wet and his lust-fogged gaze as he met Hawk's eyes. Tim gave a slow, deliberate lick up Hawk's length, all while maintaining eye contact, and Hawk shook his head, absurdly pleased. "That's it," he growled, low enough to reach Tim's ears alone. He ran his hand commandingly through Tim's hair. That gorgeous thick untamable mop of hair. "Show me how much you want this." Tim dove in again, and Hawk groaned. "Enough to get on your knees in a crowded public bar, huh. You hear them, don't you. Blissfully unaware of all the depravity happening right above their heads."

A minute more of the glorious sucking heat had Hawk spasming, clutching his boy's head and holding him close as Tim swallowed and swallowed around him. God. God. Who needed church when you had worship like this?

Hawk sank heavily against the wall. Tim, still kneeling, sat back on his haunches, hands resting on his splayed knees, his head hanging low. Hawk reached out with one finger, lifting his boy's chin. The look on Tim's face took his breath away. Not guilty, or regretful, as Hawk had supposed, but sublime. Reverent. Tears shining in his eyes and adoration on his face, and all at once Hawk felt the duty of care rock into him like a sledgehammer. He'd gotten in way over his head. Such delicacy of care, wanting not to shatter this beautiful precious fragile perfect boy. Too late. Far too late.

"C'mere," he said softly, nudging Tim's chin up. Tim got to his feet, shaky, and Hawk pulled him in and turned them around so Tim could lean back against the wall as Hawk licked into his open, soft, willing mouth, drinking down the taste of himself as if they had all the time in the world, until the taste was long gone and there was only Tim, his boy, his Skippy.

Slowly he pulled back. He waited for the fog in Tim's eyes to clear before reaching down between them, gripping Tim's cock firmly through his trousers. "Bet you'd like me to do something about this, huh?" he said, his voice barely a murmur. Tim keened, mouth dropping open as he leaned in to be kissed. Hawk indulged him for a moment before pulling back, releasing Tim's cock to grab both shoulders instead, pushing Tim upright and putting a few inches of space between them.

"Well, I'm not going to," he continued. "And you're not going to either. I want you wanting. Be a good boy for me?" He'd meant it to come out a command, but instead it turned soft and questioning. It made him uncomfortable. He didn't like the vulnerability running both ways.

But Tim, glorious empathetic Tim, who always, painfully, seemed to hear the undercurrents beneath Hawk's words despite Hawk doing his best to hide them, said simply, "I will. For you. For you, Hawk. I will." And leaned forward through Hawk's resisting arms to kiss him again.

[oldiesstationlover11607]

HI BESTIEEEE

okay okay. idea. joshs sister reader x tyler.

kinda like the sai!josh x tylers sister reader one where theyd been sevretly dating.

same kinda premise but like josh is realy realllyyy not okay with tyler dating his sister, like itd been a big nono since he inteoduced them to each other. but one night they both like bonded over something and the connection kept going. then josh finds out whem he comes into her room quickly for something he left and sees tyler in her bed and he freaks out thinking they slept together. they have to explain that theyd been dating for a while (like lonnngg while) and josh gets super angry.

ik the josh x reader one had a happy ending.. maybe this one ends angstily or not good at all. you can decide. love your work <33

HAVE A GOOD DAY!!🧡🧡

Off Limits - Tyler Joseph x Dun!Reader

Warnings: Panic attacks and angst/argument between Josh and reader

Word Count: 2331

A/N: As soon as I saw this request I started chucking out ideas of how they met, Tyler helping her through anxiety and mental health struggles, them blasting music in the car, basically being perfect for each other. Poor Josh tho...

It was one of those rare quiet nights in LA, where the city’s usual noise was replaced by an almost eerie calm. The kind of stillness that makes you hyper aware of every breath you take, every beat of your heart. I lay in bed, staring at the TV that flickered in the corner of my room, barely paying attention to whatever show was on. My mind was too crowded to focus on anything.

Tyler had been at the studio all day, and I knew he’d be coming home late. Josh had been there, too, working on drum takes for Blurryface—their latest obsession, the album that had consumed their lives. Mine, too. But tonight, the emptiness in the house felt different. Maybe it was because I was too restless, or maybe it was the weight of the secret that I carried every day. The one that Tyler and I carried together.

Two years. Two years of hiding. Two years of stolen moments. Two years of lying to my brother.

My brother had introduced us at a party back when Vessel was starting to gain traction. I still remember that night—Josh had been so excited to show me off to his bandmate, like I was some prized possession. I’d tried to be cool, tried not to let on that I was immediately fascinated by Tyler’s tattoos, his quiet demeanor, the way he seemed so different from the crowd. But I guess I wasn’t as subtle as I thought.

Josh pulled me aside that night, his expression dark. I can still hear his words, sharp and cutting: “Stay away from him. He’s off-limits. You can’t have him, okay? You have to promise me.”

And because I didn’t want to lose my brother, because I didn’t want to make him angry, I promised. I promised I wouldn’t fall for Tyler, that I wouldn’t get involved with him.

But here I was, two years later, breaking that promise every single day.

I pulled the covers up to my chin, trying to shake the feeling of unease that had settled in my chest. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to be with Tyler—I loved him more than I’d ever thought possible. He was the only person who really understood me, especially during the roughest period of my life. He’d been there for me when everything else fell apart. But the guilt gnawed at me every day. I hated lying to Josh. I hated sneaking around. Most of all, I hated the feeling that this was all going to blow up in our faces one day.

I heard the front door open and close softly, followed by Tyler’s familiar footsteps padding down the hallway. My heart lifted at the sound, the tension in my chest easing slightly. A moment later, he slipped into the room, his presence instantly bringing a sense of calm. Just seeing him made everything feel a little less heavy.

He looked exhausted—worn out from hours of recording, his dark hair tousled from the day. His eyes, though heavy-lidded with fatigue, softened when he saw me. He kicked off his shoes and flopped down on the bed next to me with a sigh.

“Rough day?” I asked, my voice barely more than a whisper, afraid to disturb the quiet between us.

He let out a deep breath, rolling onto his side to face me. “Yeah,” he muttered, his voice low and tired. “I don’t even know what time it is anymore. It’s all blending together.”

I nodded, reaching up to brush a stray curl away from his forehead. “It felt like that during Vessel too. It’ll get easier.”

His eyes met mine, and for a moment, the weight of everything we had been hiding seemed to hang between us. But then Tyler leaned in, gently kissing my forehead, lingering there for a second longer than usual. It was soft, comforting—the kind of kiss that didn’t need words. It was enough to make the world feel a little smaller, a little more bearable.

“Being here with you… it’s the only thing that makes sense right now,” he murmured against my skin.

I smiled at that, my heart swelling. “I feel the same.”

Tyler shifted closer, wrapping his arm around my waist and pulling me into his chest. I rested my head against him, the steady thump of his heartbeat soothing the chaos in my mind. He kissed the top of my head, his lips brushing through my hair, and I felt myself melt into him, the weight of the day slipping away.

“You’ve got to be tired,” I said softly, my fingers tracing the patterns of his tattoos across his chest.

“I am,” he admitted, his voice a little drowsy now. “But I’m always good when I’m with you.” His hand moved up my back, fingers gently brushing the skin there, and I could feel his love in every movement, in every touch.

“Sometimes I wish we didn’t have to keep hiding like this,” I confessed quietly, not sure where the words were coming from. “I hate lying to Josh. I hate that this is all so complicated.”

Tyler sighed, his thumb stroking soothing circles on my side. “I know. I hate it too. But… I don’t know how else we can do this without hurting him. I just need more time to figure it out.” He kissed the top of my head again, this time lingering a little longer, as if he could press his understanding into me through the warmth of his lips.

I lifted my head slightly, just enough to look into his eyes. “I don’t want to lose you… but I don’t want to lose Josh either.”

Tyler’s gaze softened, his eyes filled with that quiet understanding I’d grown to love. “You won’t lose either of us,” he said, his voice steady and sure. “We’ll find a way. We always do.”

He leaned in then, his lips brushing against mine, a soft, tender kiss that made everything else fade into the background. I kissed him back, my hand resting against his cheek as I let myself fall into the moment, into the safety of him.

When we finally pulled apart, our foreheads rested together, our breaths mingling in the quiet of the room. Tyler’s fingers traced down my arm, his touch gentle and reassuring.

“I love you,” he whispered, the words a soft promise between us. “I’ve got you.”

My heart fluttered at his words, the love I felt for him swelling inside me. I kissed him again, this time slower, more deliberate. I wanted him to feel everything I couldn’t always say out loud.

“I love you too,” I whispered against his lips, my voice breaking just a little. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Tyler smiled, pressing another soft kiss to my lips before settling back into the bed, pulling me even closer into his chest. His hand slipped under the hem of my shirt, resting gently on the skin of my back, the warmth of his touch grounding me.

“For now, let’s just focus on this,” he murmured, his voice low and soothing. “Right here. Just us.”

I nodded, letting out a breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding. Wrapped up in Tyler’s arms, with his heartbeat beneath my ear and his soft breaths lulling me into a sense of safety, it felt like for just a little while, the outside world didn’t exist.

The worry about Josh, the guilt that gnawed at me every day—it all seemed to fade in the warmth of Tyler’s embrace. Here, like this, I could pretend that everything was going to be okay.

I must have dozed off because the next thing I knew, it was morning. The sunlight filtered weakly through the curtains, casting a soft glow over the room. Tyler was still asleep next to me, his arm draped over my waist. I watched him for a moment, feeling that familiar mix of love and guilt twist inside of me. He looked so peaceful, so unlike the Tyler everyone saw on stage or in the studio. This was a Tyler only I knew—the one who was soft, thoughtful, and quiet in the way he cared for me.

I shifted slightly, trying to disentangle myself without waking him, but before I could, the door burst open with a loud thud.

“Hey, have you seen my—”

Josh’s voice cut through the air, and the moment he laid eyes on us, everything seemed to freeze. My heart dropped into my stomach. Tyler stirred beside me, blinking awake, but I could already feel the tension crackling in the air. This was it. This was the moment I’d been dreading.

Josh stood there in the doorway, his face pale with shock. For a second, it was like he couldn’t even process what he was seeing. But then, his expression twisted into something darker—betrayal, anger, hurt—all at once.

“What the hell is this?” His voice was loud, harsher than I’d ever heard it before.

Tyler sat up slowly, his movements cautious, but I could already see the storm brewing behind Josh’s eyes.

“Josh, wait, it’s not what you—” I started, but my voice faltered.

Josh’s eyes flicked to me, filled with disbelief and fury. “You swore to me! You swore you wouldn’t—” He looked between us, his jaw clenched so tight I thought it might break. “How long?”

His voice cracked on those last two words, and I couldn’t find the strength to answer. I felt frozen in place, my heart racing, panic rising in my throat.

Tyler finally spoke, his voice calm but firm. “Josh, we’ve been together for a while. We didn’t mean to lie to you—”

“A while?” Josh’s voice was shaking now, disbelief mixed with fury. “How long, Tyler?”

Tyler glanced at me, and I knew we couldn’t hide it anymore. “Two years,” he said quietly.

Josh’s face drained of color. He stared at us like we’d ripped his heart out. “Two years? You’ve been lying to me for two fucking years?” His voice rose, cracking at the edges. “You’re my sister. You’re supposed to have my back! I told you not to—”

He stepped forward, his body tense with anger, and instinctively, I flinched. I didn’t even realize I’d done it until he stopped, his eyes widening. For a split second, the anger on his face shifted to something else. 

“You were supposed to stay away from him,” he said, his voice lower now, but still filled with anger. “You knew what this would do to us. And you still…” He trailed off, shaking his head in disbelief.

I wanted to explain, to tell him how much I loved Tyler, how this wasn’t some betrayal. But the words wouldn’t come. All I could feel was the crushing weight of Josh’s anger, the way it radiated off him in waves.

“Josh, it’s not like that,” I finally managed to say, my voice shaking. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. But Tyler—he’s been there for me in ways you wouldn’t understand. I needed him.”

“Needed him?” Josh repeated, his eyes narrowing. “What about me? I’m your brother. I’m supposed to be the one you go to.”

“I–I…” I turned to Tyler before stepping towards Josh, but my legs felt shaky, my chest tightening as the familiar sense of panic started to creep in. I could feel my breath catching, like I couldn’t get enough air. I’d been here before—too many times. I could feel the panic attack coming on, but I didn’t know how to stop it.

Josh’s eyes locked on mine, and for a moment, I saw his anger flicker, replaced by confusion. “What the hell is going on with you?”

“I—” My voice came out strangled, and I could feel the tears welling up in my eyes, my hands shaking. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t think. The walls felt like they were closing in.

Tyler was beside me in an instant, his arm around my shoulders, trying to steady me. “Josh, stop. She’s having a panic attack.”

Josh’s face softened with shock, but it was too late. The room was spinning, my heart racing too fast. I couldn’t control it. I could hear Tyler’s voice, calm and steady, trying to guide me through it, but Josh was still standing there, frozen, watching me fall apart.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered, my voice barely audible as the tears finally broke free. “I didn’t mean to—”

Tyler’s voice was in my ear, soft and comforting. “It’s okay. You’re okay. Just breathe.”

But I wasn’t okay. I couldn’t stop thinking about the look on Josh’s face, the anger and hurt I’d caused. The way he looked at me like I was someone he didn’t even recognize anymore.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you,” I sobbed, trying to get the words out, but they felt empty. “Josh, please…”

“I’m sorry,” Josh said, his voice small now, filled with regret. “I didn’t know—I didn’t mean to yell at you.”

But it didn’t matter anymore. The damage was done. The weight of everything we’d kept hidden, everything we’d tried to protect, had finally come crashing down.

And now, I didn’t know if we could ever put the pieces back together.

Josh left, and the silence he left behind was almost unbearable. Tyler held me, rocking gently as I cried, but even his presence couldn’t fix the shattered pieces of what I’d broken.

After what felt like hours, my sobs finally subsided, leaving me hollow, exhausted.

“He’s going to hate me forever,” I whispered, my voice hoarse.

Tyler kissed the top of my head, his voice soft and steady. “He won’t. He’ll need time, but he won’t hate you.”

But I wasn’t sure I believed him.

We sat there, tangled in each other’s arms, the weight of what had happened settling heavily over us. Tyler held me, and I held onto him, but deep down, I knew that some things couldn’t be fixed. Not easily.

Not this time.

//

REQUESTS OPENhttps://i.pinimg.com/474x/4e/50/a5/4e50a56d55f3ad6b3b18a462822b0b8e.jpg

[kamiko1234]

I am currently at the end of chapter 3 of The Titan's Curse and oh man, do I have some thoughts. So first things first. I do not like Artemis. Like, at all. She's currently inhabiting spot 2 on my "I hope Luke wins because of you guys" RIGHT after Ares himself. I REALLY don't like the whole "anti-boy" thing she and her Hunters have going on. Like, okay- I get it to some degree. Chasity and maidenhood is like- her whole thing. But honestly, at this point, it feels almost fanatic. I'm a girl myself, and it makes me genuinely uncomfortable how they act and what they say. It also weirds me out how.... pushy they are to Bianca ? Especially how they seem to disregard Nico in all of this. It was stated that Bianca and Nico are their only remaining relatives. Percy brings up a very valid point in the fact that Nico cannot become a Hunter. Bianca would leave her only brother behind, her brother whose only family she is. And in response Artemis and Zoe just- blow that whole concern off ???????? Saying that they would become Bianca's new family. It could have worked better had this decision only attempted Bianca- BUT IT DOESN'T. What about Nico ? Who would become Nico's new family !? Well APPARENTLY Artemis and her Hunters COULDN'T CARE LESS because he was born with the wrong gender. Sorry kiddo though luck ig 🤷‍♀️ And then that nasty comment when they talk about Nico going to camp with "that's all boys are good for" The fuck Artemis????? I know DAMN WELL ur ass didn't just insult the ONE relatively safe place for demigods where those kids are trained up to do the shit YOU AND YOUR FAMILY are too lazy to do !? Like I have my problems with Camp, not gonna lie. I still think it's still unsafe (even if it's better compared to- well, everywhere else) and their teaching methods are a bit questionable (how has no one thought of organizing some damn therapy for these kids !?) BUT ALSO !?!?!?!? Bianca who JUST said she was still thinking about joining the hunters only to then immediately make up her mind and join ? Naw I'm calling foul play. At this point I'm not putting ANYTHING past ANY god. I would fully trust Artemis to manipulate Bianca's mind or something. I swear to god with every chapter I read I become more and more of a Luke apologist. He went off the deep end for a good freaking reason and he has every right to personally decapitate every god to ever walk the earth. But also, ANNABETH BABY ARE YOU OKAY !? ARE YOU GOOD GIRL ??? WHERE'D YOU GO !? God I am PRAYING it ain't Tartarus or anything- atleast Artemis said she'd search for her so I suppose Mrs. "Human rights for men ? Who needs that !" isn't TOTALLY useless beyond ending my nerves. Poor Nico by the way, he seems like such a nice kid ! A total nerd and drok which honestly ? Stan. As someone who's a nerd myself (although I'm more in the Anime and history department (weird combo ik)) I can stan him. But also MY POOR BABY. That child basically lost his sister to something I'm not yet convinced isn't some weird cult RIGHT AFTER being attacked by a literal MONSTER.

That must hurt. As for Thalia.... yeah not sure about her. She seems to have some bad blood with the hunters of Artemis and that Zoë girl which makes her immediately more likable to me. But also I was sort of thrown into a loop with how suddenly the book started into the story, I would have liked a bit of a slower start with more build-up to get to know her better.

She seems to have a pretty confrontational personality , which is the main thing that makes me a bit unsure about her. But other than that she sems pretty cool so far ! Hope to see more. One thing however made me worry a bit.... that mist thing. Where Thalia was able to manipulate the mist, and upon Percy's questioning asking if "Chiron didn't show you that yet". How it's treated to be nothing special....... listen if I wasn't a bit iffy about the whole system of the Camp I am now. Why didn't Chiron show Percy that ? It doesn't look to be some special ability reserved for children of Zeus. Infact, why didn't Chiron show that EVERY demigod !? I am hoping to god that an explanation for that's gonna come up later to explain this. Otherwise I'll just have to assume that Chiron is refusing to teach those kids a valuable and also kinda important skill just because.

(Also on an off note, y'all remember that one "Who's Jason Theory" I had a while back where I concluded he's either from Roman North Korea or a Rome fanboy ? Yeah I got it confirmed from a friend a while back that he's from Roman North Korea. Holy fuck, so apperantly The Democratic Demigod's Republic of Rome exists canonically. And apparently they are the East Germany to Camp Halfblood's West Germany. Yikes. Don't know much more tho than it existing and apperantly being well, Roman North Korea. So please no spoilers there ^^)

(Please mark any spoilers in your replies/reblogs so I can avoid them, thank you )

[jarondont]

Waiting for Love (part 4)

[Okay ik this isn't canon. but in this, Calypso is able to control anyone, anywhere. and by control i mean she can do whatever she wants to them. I hate her. anyways please read the tws before continuing]

[TW: Torture/violence, some suicidal thoughts, and implied/mentions of SA]

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Part 4: Calypso

Odysseus ran down the beach, stumbling in the sand. Panting, sobbing, he fled, headed straight for the water. He didn’t care if he drowned. If anything, he preferred it.

Anywhere, even the Underworld, was better than here.

But right before he reached the water, his knees buckled. He collapsed into the sand, landing face-first with a groan. Carefully, he pushed himself back to his feet, but his feet seemed to be locked in place. He was stuck.

“What do you think you’re doing?” came a voice behind him.

Odysseus felt like throwing up. “Nothing you need to know,” he seethed.

Calypso worked her magic, sending a bolt of pain exploding through Odysseus’s chest. He screamed, doubling over in pain.

“What are you doing?” she repeated.

Gasping for air, he managed, “Getting out of here.”

The throbbing in his chest lessened but didn’t disappear. “And why would you do that, darling?”

“Don’t call me that.”

The pain flared once more, this time so intense that he collapsed to his knees again. White spots danced before his eyes. “Answer me,” Calypso demanded.

“I can’t stay here anymore,” breathed Odysseus.

“Even after all I’ve given you?” the goddess spat. “Out there, you’d be facing monsters. Nightmarish creatures that will eat you alive. You’d face the wrath of the gods, who are furious with you just for having made it this far. And even if you were to escape all that, you’d drown. Meanwhile, I’ve offered you food, shelter, and company. The least you could do is be thankful. I’m not your enemy here, Odysseus.”

The son of Laertes struggled to catch his breath — once he did, he croaked out, “Everything I’ll face out there is far less of a monster than you.”

That set her off. Somehow, the agony in Odysseus’s chest increased even more, forcing another ear-piercing scream from him. Without warning, his throat constricted — Calypso’s magic — making him choke on his own breath.

Please, he begged silently, make it stop.

But Calypso wasn’t done. “How dare you! All these years, I took you into my home, let you into my bed — ”

“I never … wanted that …” he interjected, choking on his words.

“ — and now you blame me for your pain! I have half a mind to kill you right now.”

“I wish you would,” he whispered, trembling. “At least … that way, I won’t … have to betray Penelope … any longer.”

Frustrated, Calypso scoffed. “What is it that you love so much about this Penelope? This mortal? What does she have to offer you that I don’t?”

“Everything,” Odysseus gasped. “Everything.”

Seizing him by his tunic’s collar, she yanked him to his feet. The two of them locked eyes, her fiery stare feeling as if it was burning into him.

“You know,” she said through her teeth, “everything I’m doing to you right now, I could just as easily do to her.” She raised her free hand and snapped her fingers, sending another jolt of pain through him. He let loose yet another scream.

“Just like that.”

“No,” he breathed.

“And not just her,” Calypso continued. “To your son — ”

Odysseus felt like he had been punched in the stomach. Hard.

“ — your father — ”

Another blow.

“ — and everyone else that matters to you.”

The last blow came so hard, he collapsed to his knees again. He tried to inhale — and failed. His throat was still half-closed.

Calypso bent down and placed a hand under Odysseus’s chin, pushing his face upwards until they were eye-to-eye. His eyes were filled with tears.

“There’s blood on your hands, Odysseus. And there will be more.” Her nails dug into his skin, droplets of red forming on his flesh. “All you can choose is whose.”

The tears fell, streaking his dirt-stained cheeks as they ran down his face.

“Your own … or everything and everyone you hold dear.”

Finally, the pain ceased and his throat opened. He gulped in mouthfuls of air, coughing as it got caught in his throat. He collapsed forward, barely catching himself on his palms.

“Your choice,” Calypso said above him. “If you wish to save yourself and flee, I won’t stop you. But if you do, just keep in mind that your home will soon be in ruins.”

She turned and began to walk away, leaving him sobbing in the sand. “If you wish to stay, on the other hand …” she stopped and glanced back, grinning. “Meet me at my bed tonight.”

Odysseus could hear the triumph in her voice. And it sickened him.

But his decision was made.

That night, he met her at her bed, the pain in his heart far greater than the pain she was about to inflict on him.

•••

Dearest love of mine, I shouldn’t even have the right to call you that anymore. I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry. I don’t want this. I never wanted this. I promised you it would never happen again — not after the close call with Circe. Yet another promise I have broken. I don’t know how I’ll ever get you to forgive me. I don’t know how I’ll ever forgive myself. I don’t deserve your love, Penelope. Not after what I’ve done. I tried to fight her. Believe me, I did. But I am powerless against her. I wish she’d let me go … or let me die. I don’t care which one. Not after my infidelity, even while you’ve waited for me all these years. I let you down. I won’t ask you to wait for me any longer. I don’t deserve it. I’m so sorry, my love. Please forgive me. Please.

So he wrote, every night for seven years, his tears staining the papyrus. And every night, he eyed the glimmering gold next to his hand — the brooch his beloved had given him all those years ago when he had left for Troy. He had kept it safe throughout his journey, not wanting even the smallest scratch on it. All these years, it had reminded him of his purpose, that there was someone waiting for him back home.

And now he had betrayed that someone.

He wanted to reach out and touch it. He wanted to wear it again — to keep  this gift from Penelope so close to his heart. But he couldn’t bring himself to. He felt … unworthy.

Many times, Calypso had tried to take it.

Forget about her, she’d say. You’re here with me now. Not her. You belong to me.

But Odysseus refused. As much as he felt like he didn’t deserve to have it, the last person whose hands he’d let it fall into were Calypso’s.

By no means would she get anywhere close to that brooch.

So he kept it here, on the desk, next to his pile of letters. His pile of guilt.

That pile only grew every time she’d invite him to bed. Every time he’d reluctantly obey. Every single night.

And all he could say was, “I’m sorry.”

“I’m so, so sorry.”

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[coldresolve]

hi, anon who asked about your writing process here 👋

i have returned from the trenches (university tests) to ask some specific(ish) questions.

1. how do you choreograph fights? they're quite easy to follow along, exciting/unique, and still maintain a sense of realism, all of which i tend to struggle with.

2. how do you write renee's internal monologue, especially when it comes to his little panicked moments and varying pacing?

3. how do you build and release tension so effectively in the story itself? obsessed with the "Renee stops running" part

4. how do you switch perspectives fluidly?

ik it's a lot of questions, but this is the condensed version so i count it as a win (?)

my favourite way to procrastinate recently has been annotating mm and i just. need to understand how your writing brain works a little. thanks :)

obligatory 'writing is subjective so take what you find useful and discard the stuff doesnt apply to you' and 'im not an expert in anything, this is just the shit i try to keep in mind' and 'i may sound disjointed as hell cause its 4am 5am and i cant sleep' etc

under a cut for mercy reasons

writing fight scenes

things you need to set up for your readers: character drives and aim with the fight itself, the stakes of losing, and how it all ties in with your wider story

things for you to keep in mind: how much fighting experience your character have, how your character's state of mind affects their behavior, their relationship to violence and/or how far they're willing to go

subverting expectations will keep people on their toes. this can be as simple as changing the stakes of the fight midway through, or having a character do something that isn't typical for them (which you should set up before so it doesnt feel too out of place)

make each (or most) impact/s mean something. getting kicked in the side of the mid-thigh will make a character limp for a bit; a hard enough hit to the liver will make anyone crumple; etc. dont make your characters, no matter how badass theyre supposed to be, immune to this, since that would erase the stakes entirely

fights are usually chaotic and short-lived. depends on what genre you're writing, though

give your characters (short) moments to react to what their opponent is doing/trying to do. dialogue is cool, but keep it sparse. people generally don't prioritize clever quips when theyre beating the shit out of each other. sometimes a simple "motherfucker" is enough

im bad at this one but characters using their environment during fights is fucken nice and helps with immersion

fights are more or less just a string of reaction-action over and over, and it can get sort of repetitive going back and forth to describe every punch, since it removes your reader's ability to imagine or read between the lines. meanwhile, if you never go deeper than 'they exchanged blows', you lose all sense of atmosphere - it's not supposed to feel like a detached news report, you want your readers to be there. so writing fight scenes is basically a balancing act in detail - how much to show, how much to suggest. whats the right answer? there is none, sorry. no two authors will have the same approach, but both can pump out riveting shit with wildly different approaches. its something you learn over time. im personally in the lots-of-detail camp

people will tell you that sentence length matters, but thats bullshit imo, it's just about using flow effectively. a good example of what i mean: short sentences make the pace seem quicker, but run-on sentences in particular have this neat thing where they can make your readers almost out of breath by the end of it, which is also pretty useful when you're writing something high-tension.

there's tons more shit than this but my brain is a puddle of goo, so

renee's internal monologue

ayyy! internal monologue is your opportunity to shovel around the grey matter of your characters, its the Good Stuff imo. in the case of mm, the plot is largely driven by character development, so its been hella important to me to express why each character (except davin) does what they do, what thought process lead them to change their minds, and in renee's case - the flaws in his reasoning, the lies he tells himself, and how he reacts when those things no longer help him cope with what he's done

pacing is sth im insanely mindful of but unable to effectively put into words lmfao. if you mean renee's entire internal arc, it follows the narrative tension in the story; renee is the protagonist, he's the one driving the plot forward. as for pacing out any internal monologue itself, i try to have it follow somewhat of a 3 beat structure with setup/elaboration/conclusion (most of what i write happens in 3s), but some monologues have veered off if i felt like it was called for (it's a vibes thing). flow is important: one thought has to lead to the next, and it has to reach a "logical" conclusion (whatever the character decides is logical at that point of their arc). it has to be relevant to the plot obv, and the atmosphere also has to compliment the scene/chapter it exists in. otherwise, yeah, like. theres not much of a difference between pacing a normal scene and pacing an internal monologue

building and releasing tension

idk if you saw it but i made a whole post squeezing mm into a model for narrative tension here

so ok, listen. this is all wishy washy and means nothing, except it means everything. its the entire structure of your story which is pretty important, but like also its just a vibe thing. the reason you've heard about setup/payoff in writing advice circles is because of the build and release of tension. it's a pacing thing. if you set something up without having a payoff down the line, unless you're writing a mystery and your setup is a red herring, your readers are gonna come away disappointed. it's about what rhythm you've established and how an average person might expect it to continue. we're making music here. if you payoff something (payoff is a verb now) without having set it up previously, you've essentially just smashed all the piano keys in the middle of claire de lune with no warning. and you can do that, but you have to know that that's what you're doing, otherwise its gonna sound like you smashed all the keys solely to keep your audience on edge, even though it adds nothing to the song itself. this is all pacing. everything is pacing, including tension

building and releasing tension is about making music. you typically start out low and then you gradually turn it up. and you might have a moment where it gets a little low again but now the audience knows its been up there before so there's more intrigue, you've set an expectation. and then you build it and you take it a little further than the last time. you add harmonics maybe, if harmonics are your thing. you keep teasing the climax. that sounds like sex and to be fair music is kinda like sex. so is narrative tension. you add a funky little kazoo in there an the crowd definitely did not expect that, but if you've got a vision, you might just pull it off. it's about atmosphere. you're not just setting up for the grand finale, you're setting up a hundred tiny peaks along the way, meeting each as you go. it's like you're walking toward the harvest while hauling the plow behind you. (that made no sense. kinda like sex.*) (*= i'm ace). and then eventually, bam, cymbals and headbanging and shit. if you've done your due diligence in the gradual buildup, that release feels earned

switching perspective

i may be stupid and/or just kinda tired but i dont understand this question rn lmfao. ig i just treat it like i would going from any one scene to another

in conclusion

thank u for the questions. apologies for making it weird. in my defense, it is very difficult to explain pacing, and also its 5am now

[danieyells]

OMG JUST SAW YOUR POST ABOUT PULLING EDWARD’S SSR CARD. UR SOOO LUCKY 😿. Anyways, since you love him so much here’s a little food for thought especially with NSFW for Ed. I have this feeling where he’d be into very lazy sex, especially knowing how lethargic he is usually in the game. But for some reason I simply can’t get it out of my head , this idea of Ed and Mc 69. Like it’s a little difficult ofc, and there’s some faults to the logic but that can be ignored for the fantasy of it. Mc somehow persuaded Ed into trying it, Mc on top doing most of the work while Ed Lazily tries to please. However, I think MC would be too far gone to even realize that they’re “suffocating” or more-so squeezing his head between their thighs. They’re that hungry and sex drunk to notice. That’s where I think the biting comes in, bc ik damn well you can’t have a vampire without having some blood spilt in sex. Just a little something i thought should be shared to an Edward Hart lover 😋

THANK YOU SO MUCH i love him lol this time it only took a single ten pull. . .if only all of my gacha luck were so good lol ON THE OTHER HAND I NOW HAVE ANOTHER SSR TO LEVEL UP IN THE FUTURE. I PULLED JIN LIKE LAST WEEK TOO. I'M STILL WORKING ON TAIGA. THERE ARE NOT ENOUGH RESOURCES--this is unrelated to the topic at hand.

I love everyone but admittedly some characters are easier to think about than others lolol Ed. . .kind of writes himself haha.

I CAN ABSOLUTELY SEE THAT I think he could be vigorous after. . .a good meal, y'know? He also says on the home screen that his physical condition is worse in the summer and better in the autumn and winter, so if it's a nice cold day--or a really cloudy or foggy one--he'd probably have plenty of energy to warm PC up. . . .

But he definitely prefers lazier sex. He likes to lie back and be attended to or maybe have his face sat on. . .the good thing about 69ing(or any sort of oral play from Ed) is that Ed doesn't need to breathe at all. By all means dear, squeeze his head between your thighs. He didn't need air anyway. Their natural instincts as a human will prompt them to pull away and breathe when it's time, he will just be swallowing the warm, sweet fluids coming out of them with no need to stop. Since he drinks tears surely other bodily fluids will feed him as well. They can be as absorbed in the sex as they want--he is, at worst, out of practice but muscle memory will kick in once his mouth is busy.

Muscle memory will also sink his teeth into their thighs a few orgasms in, when they're so blissed out from the orgasms they wouldn't even notice it. Just a little tilt of his head to press his hungry mouth into the softest part of their flesh, their thighs tense even tighter around his head in some small acknowledgement of the pain of his teeth breaking through(or maybe in protest of that he isn't pleasuring them anymore) and he just has a little. Just a little. They might feel a touch dizzy at worst. But they might feel dizzy from all the orgasms anyway.

And once he's got some blood in him they may feel even dizzier because he's so, so much more enthused after a good meal. He doesn't even mind if they stop because they can't focus on blowing him the way he's playing with them. He'll have plenty of energy to take care of that later--

hehe thank you for sharing your thoughts with me anon 'u'

[matd0]

life update ig ??:

hi hi hi hi hi hi hi !!!

ok so

1. i mentioned about having medical issues and some people got concerned so i just want to quickly explain the thing yk; in short it turns out having anxiety can cause heart arrhythmia ????? which can be like kinda dangerous;; but like in most cases it's fairly harmless so i should be alright :] !! still have to go check it out at the hospital (which i have been sorta putting off for a while bc yk. anxiety,, lol) but like other than it stressing me out a bit, everything is relatively fine :]

2. school is kicking my ass rn 💀 have a lot of unfinished work and missed a ton of classes bc my mental health kinda sucks,, so yk it's not exactly going great lol. but uhhhhhhhhhh im sure I'll figure it out ? ig ?? ye.

3. got a small art block. well it's more like "i have so much work to do, how dare i draw at a time like this" (and then just go to sleep bc im soo stressed and overwhelmed about everything 💀) but like. I'll probably get over it soon 🤷

idk i also just feel super obligated to always post super high effort paintings if i have many followers yk? like alot of the time i just feel like my drawings aren't good enough and everyone will like despise me for it;; and idk ig i just need constant approval for everything i do for some reason sjdhjshd. ik it's like. a really inaccurate and terrible way to look at it but i just can't rlly help it;;

uhhh all that to say, i hope it's alright if i post more sketches and unfinished drawings ? ;;

4. i would like to formally apologize for barely responding to literally anything. like. im so sorry dudes;;;;;;; unfortunately i have. very intense social anxiety and literally do not respond to anyone ever. (/srs it's like. a genuine issue in my life. whoops) but like i feel super bad about it bc i don't want to seem like i don't care T_T cuz lik e. i literally read every comment, message, tag, etc. and they always make me so so so happy ;;;;; like i routinely show screencaps of random comment to my friends gush about how nice they are 💀 idk point being; im a loser, i love all of you and it blows my mind that anyone cares about my silly drawings for a p much dead fandom lol.

extra: also i uh made a creepypasta oc 🧍‍♂️might post about him maybe idk im scared it'll be cringe sjhsjsgdhgdhd epic

TLDR; pretty stressed, small art block, school suckz, might die but probably not lol.

(sorry this came off super negative and sort of venty 💀 its all good i swear, im just silly)

[heliads]

AAAHH CONGRATS ON 10000 FOLLOWERS LISA IM SO HAPPY FOR YOUUU <<33!! For the celebration game

🌎 for unwind characters ofc

🎨 for my blog and maybe also grace and/or argent skinner (IK this like the third time I’ve sent you an ask with these two in it but I can’t help it I love my angsty siblings :])

Tysm and congratulations once again bestie!!

thank you!! your moodboard will be in the next post <33

i randomly generated a world swap and the result was the magnificent seven! essentially, this means unwind cowboy au:

masterlist

Connor still thinks this is a stupid idea.

Obviously, it has to happen. The Graveyard’s a hell of a ghost town, hence the name, but Connor’d rather die than see the dang Juveys running through the streets like they own it. And maybe Connor will die for the place after all, because the only plan they’ve got is to string together a team of convicts and outlaws, trigger-happy idiots and honest to God cowboys, and fight off the Juveys. If they’re still breathing long enough to have a drink after, it’ll be a win in Connor’s book.

Still– what a team! Risa must be out of her mind to think these sorts of polar opposites would work together. The few (okay, many) times he’s complained, she’s silenced him with a single look. For this plan to be anything but suicidal, they need people with a wide range of strengths. So she says, at least, white hat reflecting the sun around her head like she’s a damn angel.

Connor certainly looks at her like she’s an angel, even despite what he knows about her– the bounty hunter, running from the law since she was a kid. Just like he did. If there’s one thing all of them in this plucky band of sharpshooters have in common, it’s that they ran off young and never came back, figuring their best future would be found somewhere on the road. Maybe it was and maybe it wasn’t, but they’ve become good riders and better shots, and Connor would say that’s better than growing old on a front porch somewhere anyway.

That’s all they’ve got in common, though. Feels like it, at least. What else could connect Hayden, the printer of the revolutionary newspaper that’s gotten him kicked out of a fair share of towns, or Roland, whose fingers keep twitching towards his pistols? How else are Lev, a former preacher’s son ‘til the fire and brimstone made him sick, and Starkey, a fuse ready to blow, possibly similar?

A love for risk, that’s what. Or, more pessimistically, none of them have any home waiting anymore. If you can’t go back, you go forward. Into the arms of bullets, maybe. Connor looks around at his band of outlaws and thinks– one day, when they win this fight, there might be a place for them after all.

unwind tag list: @reinekes-fox, @locke-writes

[se0bs]

𝖢𝗈𝗈𝗅 𝖶𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝖸𝗈𝗎，𝖸𝗈𝗈𝗇 𝖪𝖾𝖾𝗁𝗈

𝖲𝗒𝗇𝗈𝗉𝗌𝗂𝗌-having a leader that’s stays in your mind making you feel a certain way

𝖨𝗇𝖿𝗈-Keeho x Reader,Fluff,Idol Au

𝖶𝖺𝗋𝗇𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀-Cussing,Eating,Overthinking?

You know a lot about me idc what you say though. Just say your mine please I’m trying my best to stay sane.I’m cool with you my love.

Standing here infront of many people.How do I breath with you in the crowd starring at me.I want to be seen but you make me feel different…

The song starts I turn on airplane mode.Sing dancing the best part it’s you being there looking at me.Once the song ends it feels like a new beginning start for me.Trying to understand why this is happening to me I will just cool down.Stage ends and my group begin to walk to are room breath heavily from the workout that just happened.

“Y/n you need to stop zoning while you walk” my member said to me.”Oh idk I was doing that” not really caring for that just trying to make sense of things.”Mk whatever you say”

“Wdym by that m/n..”

“We all know you being trying to understand how you feel about that boy keeho that we see walking to practice” my member all agree with the statement just said.”I’m just a little confused on my feelings” telling them.”It’s hard to understand stand how you feel and we all take time to feel confident with it.There is no need to rush on how you feel because I understand you point of view”

My group is watching the other group’s performance so I decided I go get some snack from the vending machine I saw. Grabbing my tote bag with my wallet I tell my manager where I’m going.

Heading towards where I saw it i didn’t bring my headphones since there is a group so listen is why better to me.Spotting it I stand still for a bit.A group is talking photos umm maybe I’ll just wait for them to finish…

Walking down the stairs I see keeho and his members “man I just wanted to get some snacks really” whispering to myself.The other group leaves letting p1h take photos maybe I should just pass by them.

Would that be rude?

Yeah

what if I get in back of their photos?

I can’t have that

I’ll just wait again

“Oh Hi Y/n!” On of the members said I think is name is jongseob.I remember seeing him on tv many it’s crazy how tall he got.”Umm Hi I um just never mind I can wait please don’t mind me sorry” blow to them.”No No is ok did you need anything?” Keeho said trying not to freak me out.”I just wanted to get some stuff from the vending machine I can wait tho!!”

“Hey no stop apologizing, move intak you dookie butt!” Keeho softly push intak away from the machine 😭.”Omg Uhh Ty hahah” wtf I’m I so fucking awkward.

Putting my money in I push the buttons the best thing is my group loves the snack here so I don’t really have a hard time choosing.Grabbing the stuff I put each item in my bag.I can hear the boys talk behind me in a soft voice like they are trying to whisper but it’s really not working.

“Ooo keeho” one of them say.”Shut up before I hit you little boy” keeho told them.Hearing this loud and clear “Go kiss them or make a move if not you a loser” Ik which one said that statement it was Theo.

Once I hear that I stop and decide to make up a dumbass excuse “Ahh I forgot to get more cash I’ll be right back” knowing dam I have money.”It’s okie I have a few bucks hear”.Keeho grabs is wallet and gets money out.Wtf did I say that I’m so cringe giving some kdrama shit.”Ttyyyyy 😃” trying not to breach down.

Putting it in I just pick a random snack and put it In my bag.”Good Choice I love those” hearing from the side of me.”Ewww sorry that was cringe I’m really sorry about that!!” Keeho told me trying to not laugh I just can’t hold it in.Everyone is laughing Keeho standing there embarrassed I look back up and I have a marker in my tote digging into it I take the top off and right my number on the box and gave it to keeho.I’ve decided I might take a chance.”Here for lending me some money”

He grabs is and thanks me hiding his face behind his hand.

Walking back I already I’m going to be dreaming about each other.Step by step I feel a cool breath pass me.I grab the handle to my door and open it greeting me and sitting down placing the snacks down.Picking a snack out I lay back on the couch and open it and hear.”He’s on your mind right?”

“Yeah”

[muniimyg]

I've never written an ask for any author on this app so this is a first for me (and I'm really shy and the anon option is off so it's a bit 🥹) but I really need to voice my thoughts and feelings

I just binge-read bbydaddy and I'm still sobbing so hard rn you have no idea. It's 4am rn and I have to wake up at 7 but I literally cannot stop crying. Adding to this, I did not reblog every chapter bc I didn't want to spam (don't know if I should have☹️) but I absolutely loved every single one. I did reblog jk's birthday bc it was the breaking point for me lol. After reading chapter 17 I thought that was it bc 18 was not showing on the masterlist yet so I read the next thing

When jk wishes for time as he blows the candles I immediately thought about the ending of chapter 16. Him blaming time in chapter 16... the thing he wished for... oh god I'm still crying as I write this. The fact that the thing he wished for was the thing he ended up blaming for what happened between them... heartbreaking

The way you treated the theme of time touched a very sensitive part of my poor little heart. I can relate sooo much to jk and every word that was written after his wish was just adding tears to my eyes bc I felt him so much. It's so hard to grasp the concept of time but the way you described how jk felt and thought about it was just beautiful. And then the rolex as a gift and her words promising him forever and and and 😭😭😭 honestly the best work and the best writing style I've ever seen on this app and I'm not exaggerating at all. I mean, I'm even writing this and I swear I'm so shy I have never written an ask 🥹🥹😭but you are so good I just had to

Also, jk as a dad ☹️❤️‍🩹 but jk as zion's dad ❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹☹️☹️☹️🥹🥹 must be one of my favourite portrayals of him. I also loved her so so much, both of their characters felt so real and human, their traits and even more their flaws. You really brought them to life in such a unique and heart-wrenching way. I loved how they still loved each other through their ups and downs.

The smut as well was so intimate at times I was just thinking about a tweet I've seen on here saying something like how some authors are able to write sex scenes so full of lov, and you are one of them. I love love love when writers write smut in a way that you are able to see and feel how in love the characters are

I also stalked your page a little and I might binge read something else (not rn bc it's 5am lol this took so much time to write) bc everything looks great! Adding to this, I wanted to ask if it's okay to reblog everything as I read or if you would prefer not to spam your works

Sorry for the long rant and possible mistakes, I feel all over the place rn and I think this too is all over the place. I just needed to tell you how amazed I am by your writing skills and how much I loved bbydaddy, even more bc it turned into something so mind-blowing from such a small thing. I will be waiting for the last chapters ❤️🫶

my love,, u are my entire heart

ik it’s kind of an angsty story ,, but why did u cry so much bebe 😭 and u lost sleep ?!? PLEASE !!!!

i really appreciate the way u’ve expressed ur love for the time theme i gave them 😖 i think i’ve answered it in an ask before but i think a rlly great way to describe their love (at the moment) is; timeless but untimely

dilf jk 🤝 jk as zion’s dad … “must be one of my favourite protrayals of him / u really brought them to life in such a unique and heart-wrenching way” ,,, wow. thank u so much !!!

“honestly the best work and the best writing style” is a crazy thing to say 🧘🏻‍♀️ i’m so flattered and humbled with ur words and the amount of courage u gathered to send such kind and thoughtful feedback to me ,, there are not enough words for me thank u with 💛

oh and my favourite compliment … “some authors are able to write sex scenes so full of love, and u are one of them” .;.:.’-@-“/&:!. AAAAAAAHHHH ?!? this is insane. (tmi) i’m literally untouched and write smut out of pure delusion …. this means so much to me u have no idea how intense/funny/happy ur words made me !!!

thank u for all of this,, seriously. ur words and thots have given me so much joy and reassurance. i’m glad my work is able to reach and touch hearts like urs ✨

please reblog and send in as many thots as u want !! i love seeing how active and invested readers get and i’d love to hear more from u specially 🫶🏻

all the love,

kimi