#maybe I’ll just write snippets out

[kannady]

more than gold

pairing: sylus x non-mc reader

summary: you were getting flashbacks of a previous life or maybe you were just going crazy. a man lingered in your memories, plaguing your heart and mind. and who was desperately in need of your help?

a/n: where the extent of my creativity ends, @silverianni's begins. wonderful idea, but a not so great execution. im afraid i might not be able to write it in the way you anticipated. honestly, im not proud of this at all LMAO. but ill try my best. heres a snippet for now. its very basic but theres a couple more chapters to go. and once again, i cannot express how much i hate how i wrote this. but then again its 5 am. let me know your thoughts or should i even continue it?

Trudge. Trudge.

It was eleven, and you had just gotten off work. Sometimes you liked working at the local bar, but most of the time, like today, it was a pain in the ass. One drunk customer refused to leave, drowned himself in liquor, and forced you to sit through his sob story about how his wife caught him cheating and ruined his life.

Sigh.

You almost knocked some sense into him. But for what? He wouldn’t give a shit, and you’d lose your job. Not exactly a win-win situation. So you hoped you’d see him somewhere else. And maybe today was your lucky day.

“Come on, sexyyyyy! Let me take—” Hiccup. “—you ‘ome.” He flashed a grin at a young schoolgirl who had just stepped out of the academy.

“No, thank you, mister. I’m quite alright,” she replied politely, trying to step around him. But he grabbed her wrist.

“No!” he shouted, catching you off guard. “You brats ‘ave no respect for the elderly!” His grip tightened, and he started dragging her toward his car.

Time to strike.

You sprinted forward, swinging your satchel hard against his head. With a grunt, he released the girl, clutching his skull in pain. She seized the moment, darting away with a breathless “Thank you!”

“YOU! How dare you—” He tried to throw a punch, but you dodged effortlessly. “I’ll make this short.” A sharp kick to his groin sent him crumpling to the pavement, writhing and howling.

Smirking, you crouched beside him, slipping a hand into his pocket and retrieving his wallet. Your brows lifted. He was loaded. With feigned innocence, you slipped a hundred-dollar bill into your pocket. “You forgot to tip me.”

A satisfied smile spread across your face as you turned and walked toward your original destination.

“Only you and this flower… can touch me here.”

A whisper, hot breath grazing your neck. Instinctively, you clenched your fists and whirled around. “Okay, back the-” Alone. In the middle of an isolated alley. “-fuck up?” You scanned the area but found no one. Just a cat rummaging through the trash.

You frowned, confused. You’d definitely heard someone, someone who had been right behind you, whispered in your ear, then vanished. You were a bartender, but you never drank on shift. So you weren’t imagining things. Still, this wasn’t the time or place to dwell on it.

You kept walking until you reached your destination. For some reason, your friends thought a midnight get-together was the perfect way to spend the weekend. A few hours ago, you’d have agreed. But now, you were exhausted, physically and mentally. And that eerie whisper clung to your memory like a stain. You just felt… off. Shaking away your unease, you stepped into the restaurant, greeted by laughter, clinking glasses, and the familiar hum of old stories, enough to drown out your worries for a moment.

You ordered dinner, downed a drink, and reminisced about the old school days. It felt good to laugh like this after so long.

Then you froze. The air turned to ice.

There stood a man, his gaze locked on you. Silver-white hair, slicked back, with a few rebellious strands falling over his forehead. His eyes were ethereal. Crimson, like wine spilled over snow. They didn’t just look at you—they pierced you. His frown was barely perceptible as he spoke.

“Before you tried to kill me, did you consider it’d end like this?”

Suffocation. Like the oxygen had been sucked from your lungs. You gasped. “What the hell?”

“See! I told you it was a bad idea. Anyone would react like that.”

You blinked. Everything was normal again, just you and your friends, eating, drinking, laughing. No sign of the mysterious man. But the unease lingered.

You were not okay. You needed help. Now. Were you overworked? Drunk?

Questions flooded your mind. Absently, you excused yourself and headed to the restroom.

Staring into the mirror, you replayed the moment. Was it a memory? It felt familiar, like you knew him. But you couldn’t put your finger on it. The whisper in the alley, the glimpse of the stranger. What was happening to you?

You took a deep breath, turned on the tap, and splashed cold water on your face. Refreshing. Maybe you just needed sleep. That was the only explanation you’d accept. You weren’t crazy and you knew that.

Then you straightened and met your reflection.

“Please help me!”

Your head snapped around. Another voice. Female, desperate. Not a memory, but close. Too close.

[luveline]

Ahh I’m so obsessed with stripper!reader and Spencer!! Do you have any more thoughts about them you’d be willing to share, maybe just a snippet of their life together? So so in love with them and your writing in general

i got a different request for them that I lost about reader struggling to afford essentials and so I thought I’d combine them, I hope that’s ok!! <;3 fem, 1.1k

cw food insecurity/ poverty 

You attempt to save money, but the ten dollars you don't spend on shampoo and conditioner gets used on painkillers. You hide fifty dollars in a book and try to forget about it, but your shoes split open on the walk to work, and it takes all afternoon to find it again. You try so hard to stretch your paycheck and something new makes it impossible. 

So it's a cold night in late December and you spent all your money for food on the gas bill. Your stomach hurts, but at least your nose isn't that horrible stiff cold that distracts. 

It's not just that your stomach hurts, though. You feel miserable about everything, and you know you need to ask someone for help. You've thought about selling something, but you already pawned your watch, and everything else is inconsequential. 

I could sell my phone… but how would I talk to Spencer? 

It's the stupidest thought you could've had. More importantly, how would you communicate with work? How would you call your electric and gas company, or talk to your landlord? 

Spencer would be so sad if he knew you’d sold your phone to pay for food. He’d probably be upset knowing you considered it. And you won’t get paid for another three days, so unless you can somehow live off of olives and cherries from the club bar, you have to ask Spencer for money or get a loan. With your credit score, one situation is more likely than the other. 

You bring your phone across the pillow and sigh before clicking on his contact. He’s practically the only number you call. 

“Hello?” you ask. 

“Hi, Y/N.” 

“Hello, handsome,” you murmur, staging an affect of someone who couldn’t be more unbothered by the world. 

“Yeah, hi. You okay?” 

You don’t want to butter him up. It feels dishonest. You should be straight forward. “Spencer. You know I hate asking you for things.” 

“Yes, it’s the only bad thing about you.” He sounds like he’s smiling. You can imagine him on his couch reading something obscure, or watching one of his sci-fi shows, curls in his eyes, grey pyjamas too short for him riding up his calves as they tend to do.

“But I need– um. I don’t have any money?” You don’t mean to phrase it like a question. “Like. Okay, so, I promise you I am not an irresponsible person, just, my gas bill went up and I didn’t know, but it’s so cold I paid it anyways, and now I have three dollars. Um. Total. And I haven’t eaten all day and I’m sorry I’m asking, but I just need like twenty dollars until I get paid on Tuesday. Could you let me borrow twenty dollars, please?” 

“Do you want to get takeout?” 

You cringe. “No, like, twenty dollars for groceries, Spence.” 

“No, I understood. That’s fine, I’ll happily give you twenty dollars. But you said you haven’t eaten today? And I miss you, so it’s an excuse?” Now he’s the one making questions out of statements. “I can get us Thai food.” 

Your stomach pangs at the thought. No matter how much you hate this, you know he loves you enough to want to bring you dinner, and you really will pay him back, so he might as well. “Yeah, please. I’d love to see you, Dr. Reid.”

“I’ll be quick,” he promises. 

He isn’t. You wonder if he’s forgotten you and your rumbling stomach, curled into a c-shape under the sheets. It’s warm, at least, nearly too warm, the blade of your hunger threatening to drive you mad. It’s not a nice feeling, depending on the kindness of a friend to see you through, nor is it very pleasant to be this hungry. You’ve gone hungry a hundred times, and this is the only time you’ve ever had someone you trusted enough to turn to during that time to ask for help. What if Spencer’s decided he isn’t comfortable with your lending after all and he doesn’t come over tonight? 

You’d been looking forward to seeing him again. It’s almost worse than the hunger. 

Just as you’re thinking he’s decided he doesn’t want to be your friend anymore, he lets himself in. 

Your apartment is small, consisting of three rooms. The bedroom, the bathroom, and the living room kitchen combination. He lets himself into the living room with a cacophony of rustling and a called, “Hello!” followed soon by a muttered swear. 

You laugh under your breath.

“Are you coming out here, or do you want to eat dinner in bed?” he asks. 

“I haven’t decided yet.” 

It’s quiet enough besides his arrival that you’ve no need to shout.

“Well, stay there if you want. Have you been drinking anything? I brought iced tea and some stuff for you to have breakfast tomorrow.”

“Thank you.” You force yourself to sit up. One moment you’re looking at the closed door and the next you’re squinting against the light of the kitchen, Spencer in the doorway like a silhouette against it. “Hey, Spence. You’re taller than last time.” 

“I’m the same size as always.”

“You’re still wearing your shoes. That must be it.” 

Spencer takes off his shoes and crosses the short distance to you. “Hi,” he says, taking your hand as he sits down. His fingers are freezing. “Sorry I took a while.”

“Sorry for asking you for money.” 

“It’s okay. It’s not something to worry about. Everyone has to ask a favour sometime.” 

His hair is wind blown, his eyes watery. The cold weather has nipped his pert nose a rosy pink and he’s smiling at you with chapped lips, unaware of or uncaring about his own circumstances in the face of yours. “You okay?” he asks, his pretty brown eyes narrowing, eyebrows pinching together at the starts. “You can’t just not eat all day and not tell me.”

You nod tightly. It’s humiliating to be in this position. 

He softens. “Did they tell you the rate was rising? It’s illegal in Virginia–”

You take your hand from his. “They sent me a letter I didn’t open. I knew it would be bad news.” 

Spencer looks down at your knees. “I know that you’re used to doing things by yourself, but you don’t have to anymore.”

“‘Cos you look after me,” you say quietly. 

“I’m trying to.” 

You laugh and jog your joined hands to make him look up. “Okay. Look after me some more then and give me a hug. I’m too warm, and you’re freezing.” 

He hugs you tightly, quick to rub your shoulder blade with his thumb. “Stay here, okay? I’ll bring you a plate.” 

You cling to him for a few seconds, until hunger wins, and you send him off into the kitchen again. 

[revelboo]

I just want to say I absolutely love your writing, especially the Starscream pet ones. They're so cute and comforting! Please, keep up the amazing work!!

Thank you! At some point, I’ll gather up all the disjointed bits into a more coherent fic. A lot of the Soundwave x Reader and the non-Lost Light Megatron x Reader goes with the Starscream snippets. They’re just not necessarily in the right order since I’m using Tumblr to quickly jot down scenarios as they occur to me.

Everything is Alright Pt 12

Starscream x Reader- stars

• Outside. Fresh air smelling faintly of pine and green things. And, most importantly, outside. Keeping a palm pressed against the warm metal flesh of Starscream’s neck, you tip your head back fighting a grin. The moon’s just a sharp sickle, but there are so many stars overhead. Little specks of beauty amid the darkness. After staring at the four gray walls of Starscream’s quarters for who knew how many weeks, the stars are even better. Before, you’d never bothered to really look. Now you can’t tear your eyes away.

• “Stop squirming. You’re going to fall,” Starscream snaps as you just breathe and enjoy it. Because this field trip will end with you right back in Starscream’s quarters as something you’re not sure of. A friend, a pet, a captive? All three? Who knew. But right now? You’re free. Sorta.

• “Likelihood of falling: sixty-two percent,” Soundwave adds from where he’s trailing behind Starscream, having invited himself along from what you can tell. When you adjust your grip so you can lean back and glower at the other mech, he just stares impassively right back. “Seventy-four percent.”

• Resisting the urge to stick your tongue out, you know his worry isn’t exactly misplaced. When you’d pled to not be carried cupped in Starscream’s palms, you’d underestimated how hard it would be to keep your balance on a moving surface. Every time he stops you almost pitch face first off his shoulder. While you’re almost certain he’ll catch you before you hit the ground, you’d rather not find out the hard way.

• Primus, but you can’t be still? Denta grinding, Starscream slows to a stop, hand lifting in case you almost slide off. Again. The overlook is far enough out they won’t be spotted by humans or Autobots, a secluded place he’d discovered completely by accident and a place he visits while on patrol. Where he can just be without the war looming or being on guard. Normally. Venting as Soundwave looks around, he toys idly with the idea of trying to shove the other mech off the cliff.

• Your little hand is warm and soft on the protoarmor of his neck distracting him as you slowly stand up on his shoulder. He watches you, your face tipped up toward the night sky, skin limned in ruddy light from his optics. “Where I lived in town, there were streetlights,” you say, soft voice drifting over him. “I couldn’t really see the stars.”

• There’s a wistfulness in your words, that stings. Makes him wonder if under all those smiles you give so freely, you resent him for keeping you. If the tables were turned, he’d idle away his time in plans of escape and revenge. “Yes, well,” he murmurs, aware of Soundwave nearby listening. Looking for weakness he can exploit, no doubt. “Good behavior should be rewarded.”

• Ah, there it is. Those gruff words make your smile falter. He hasn’t brought you here because it was a nice thing to do, but because he’s reinforcing good behavior. It shouldn’t still hurt, but it does. Because maybe you were thinking of him as a friend. That just maybe he thought a bit more of you than just a pet. Or a bargaining chip. And there goes your heart, racing even as it cracks just a bit. How were you so stupid? Of course you’re not friends. How could you be?

• Venting softly, Starscream almost misses the soft sound of your breathing change. You’re still staring at the stars, but you’re leaking now, moisture streaming silently from your eyes. Lost, he glances at Soundwave, because this is new. And he doesn’t like it at all.

Previous Next

[sanakimohara]

My friend just introduced me to a new thing

Bully I.N, he’s just super mean to you, pushes you around, pulls your hair, slaps and gropes you. But then when people are around he’s super nice and the compete opposite of what he just did to you.

And he’s only mean to you, no one else. He’d just randomly slap you or when sitting down just puts his hands in your pants, and duh don’t forget the degrading.

I think it plays into people seeing him as innocent and nice when in reality he’s kinky and fucked up

Just an idea for you if you want 🧡🥰

“TEAR YOU APART” Y. J.

You and your friend are masterminds, love. 🖤 Now I want to do a series based on this idea! :) but I’ll settle with writing a snippet prequel for the time being… 🖤

[ MDNI ]

++++++

Bully Jeongin starts his campaign against you with name calling -and not the cliche creative kind that people can laugh at. No, he prefers to label you with his own perversions. Taking every chance he can get to whisper in your ear, “How’s my little bitch doing today, hm?..” “Is my slut sad already?…” “You’re such an attention whore. It’s pathetic..” “Where do you think you’re going dumb bunny…” At first you snap back insults but overtime his consistent belittling makes you less angry and increasingly compliant. You’d never admit to him that your resentment was slowly twisting into a form of pining. Your pride wouldn’t allow it…

Bully Jeongin elevates to blackmailing you when the opportunity arises. Pictures and videos of you changing, texts or risqué pictures between you and your previous crush that he’s miraculously gotten his hands on, and maybe even a voice note of you touching yourself that he coerced you into making as ‘punishment’ for even thinking about another guy. “You wouldn’t want him to find out about all these inappropriate pictures you took for me, right?” He had you cornered, faking concern as he held up his phone for you to see. You face paled as pictures of you undressing showed on the screen. How’d he even get those? Why did he have them? “J-Jeongin I never took those! N-not for you, anyway…and you know that!” You try to defend yourself but panic starts to set in as you consider what Jeongin would do to keep you under his heel. He grins, shutting his phone off before slipping it into his pocket as he leans in closer to you. His eyes bare into yours, swirling with mischief as he taunts you, “Who do you think people will believe? Me? Or some whiny little slut who can’t keep her legs closed?…” Your heart sinks as his threat echoes in your brain. “You wouldn’t…” “Oh, you know I would. Don’t act so surprised dumb bunny…”

Bully Jeongin knows you go to your classes/meetings early, follows you there when he can, and uses every minute alone with you to do his worst. No one thinks to come check on you. No one even considers the notion that you’re being groped and slapped around endlessly -up against a wall, on his lap, or bent over a desk. You try to scream or cry but Jeongin learns how to silence you rather quickly. Sinking his fingers into your mouth works best in his opinion, but he’s a fan of gagging you with your own panties too. Either way you’re left panting and nearly in tears as he takes advantage of you. He’s careful not to slap you hard enough to leave a noticeable mark, all the while cooing vulgar praises in your ear as you whine from the stinging pain that sears your cheek, and inevitably your ass gets the same treatment. “What’d I tell you about wearing anything under your skirt, little slut?” He slaps your backside again, harder than before, and you whine into his hand that’s clasped over your mouth, shivering as he snakes his free hand under your skirt to rip the lace fabric off your lower half. The cold air hitting your dripping cunt makes you groan softly and you pray he doesn’t notice the effect his torture has on you, but Jeongin knows…he’s known for a while. That’s why he has no remorse for what he does to you, feels no sympathy as he tucks your panties into his pocket, and is all smiles when he finally lets you go the moment people gradually start to fill the room.

Bully Jeongin is incredibly sweet to everyone but you. Greeting them with the kindest smile -one you’ve never experienced in earnest. His charm resonates through each interaction he has with the staff and close friends. It amazes you how cruel he can be behind closed doors but deep down you wait for those moments….secretly craving them. In those fleeting pockets of time he’s true to his darkest tendencies, fully himself, and in some sick way you begin to believe he only feels comfortable around you to be just that….his truest self. That’s the cynical logic keeping you from snapping, admitting defeat, and openly confessing your crush on him. He’d probably laugh at your stupidity if you did…

Bully Jeongin claims you’re one of his ‘sweetest’ friends when someone asks about your connection to him. He’ll flash a smile your way, placing a firm hand on your lower back to bring you close to his side, and stare down into your soul. He’s daring you to tell the truth, playing with your psyche without even trying, and he’ll win the game so easily that it makes your head spin. Everybody loves him, wants to be with him, but little do they know he’s got you to play with. Why would he pay any mind to anyone else when you were such a familiar, willing, and easy target? You don’t deny him when slips a hand into your panties under the desk/table. You stand obediently when he reaches between your thighs to cup your mound, playing with your soaked folds as you try to focus on doing your job/homework. You moan so timidly into his ear every-time he ruts his hardened cock against your ass, which unconsciously pushes back into him for more, and he’ll let you until you’re interrupted or he comes undone in his pants. The push and pull between you two is finite. He likes it that way and so it’ll stay that way.

Bully Jeongin gets paired/assigned with you for projects/comeback prep more often than you think is possible. You can’t fathom how you end up partners on almost every project/task. Even if you are assigned to work with someone else/another member he still weasels his way in. Sometimes you’re sure he threatens/bribes your current partners off to have your full attention -which is true but you don’t need to know that, now do you…Jeongin surprisingly has morals when it comes to anyone else speaking badly about you. He hates it and will put a stop to it as soon as it starts. Why? He’s the only one allowed to treat you the way he does. That’s why. “….don’t say another fucking word about Y/n. She’s mine. Understand?”

Bully Jeongin loves to make you ride his thigh when you’re supposed to be studying/working. He doesn’t care that someone might hear or see you. He cares even less that you’d rather focus without being horny. “I didn’t ask what you preferred to do…” he mumbles against your lips, one hand on your hip to control how fast you pass your bare cunt over his leg, and the other keeping his phone steady as he records the whole time. You beg him not to, blushing in embarrassment as you hear his camera shutter, “Jeongin….d-don’t..” you half whine half moan as he snaps another picture. “I’ll do what I want. You just keep riding me like a good cumslut…” “M’ not…a cumslut…” you scowl in disapproval at the pet name but the expression fades to a dazed one as his hand on your hips travels down to your ass. He grasps it tight, giving the tender flesh a harsh slap in response to your defiance, “It’s cute that you think that. If you weren’t you wouldn’t be making a mess on my thigh right now and moaning like one..” his smile doesn’t match the darkness in his tone and you swallow a whimper at the contrasting factors. The heat in your core begins to unravel with every disgusting insult his gentle voice spills. “Getting off like this is all you deserve dumb bunny.” “Feels so much better than touching yourself, doesn’t it?” “Why don’t you smile at the camera when you cum. Yeah, just like that. Show ‘em’ how bad you want my cock..” He laughs softly as his words bring tears to your eyes, little droplets trickling down your cheeks as you come undone on his thigh, and try your best to smile through the riveting sensation.

‘click’ he snaps another picture of you, making sure to play with your clit to drag out your high as he does, and your smile morphs into the perfect expression of pleasure.

“Look at you being such a pretty whore for me…” Jeongin smirks, rubbing your clit faster to draw more reactions from you, and succeeding much to your dismay.

‘click’

“Picture perfect slut…”

++++++++

This was quick and sweet but like I said…I’m considering making it into a mini series. 🖤 (I literally have like 4 currently going on rn…omg…)

[ BONUS CONTENT + ]

I wanna lick the longest, sloppiest, sluttiest stripe up his abs/tummy. Like the urge is so real rn… 🖤 Credits to creator 🖤

[oonajaeadira]

Patricio Keeps a Journal, Pt. 1: Winter

Good. Things. Take. Time. is a series that grew out of prompts–the whisper of a character, the asks of readers. And now, to get myself back into PATS’s head, the prompts are coming from @fanfticionoverload’s Seasons of Life challenge.

What you’re about to read are some excerpts from Patricio’s journal. Heads up they probably won't make much sense if you haven't read the ongoing series.

Each excerpt is just that–snippets that pertain to the story, taken from his presumed wider journal, each notated where it lands in the series and follows the chronology of the series.

The rules of the challenge ask for 250 words per prompt. I thought it would be a little less forced if I didn’t worry so much about that, so some may fall short of that number. And I’ll say that these aren’t heavily edited nor are they anything other than basic reactions, precisely because I wanted them to feel like the unfiltered thoughts one writes in a journal.

Let’s say that it was Shell’s orders for him to keep a journal in the first place. If his practice is his way of dealing with his demons, if he’s not going to go to traditional therapy, then “the least you can do is just offload before bed, and not the kind of offloading you do with your dick. I’m not gonna read it, but I’ll want to see words on those pages. Write a fucking play for all I care, write a manifesto about your love of pasta, I don’t give a shit what. Just write.”

I don’t have anything to write. I’m not a fucking poet. Shell says use the pen, get the words out of your head, just write anything. Anything. Anything. Tables have turned. Now I’m the one practicing letting it all out. Trying not to think too hard.  Anything.

EXCERPT 1: SNOW

TIMELINE: a few days before Good. Things. Take. Time.

…

#39 gifted me four tickets to the game at her last session. It’s Neils’ birthday. I’ll surprise him and Dan with a guy’s night out.

Got a new client coming in on Thursday. #48. I wasn’t going to approve her. Nothing in her application hints at any lingering trauma that she can’t just get treated at a legit clinic. But Shell was pushy about this one. She's got a knack for these things and hasn’t been wrong yet. Official referral diagnosis: pain is psychological tension from a recent(?) divorce. I guess it’s worth a shot. If nothing else, divorcees are usually just in need of a good fuck so it’s an easy fix. Good photo. I like her style. She’s going to make pretty faces.

Thinking about taking some time off after that. Rare confluence of three clients ending their run at the same time, it’s slow season at the office and the guys can handle a week without me, I should get out of town. Someplace quiet. Or fuck, I don’t know, someplace distracting where I can get out of my head. Maybe I should book a massage. Look at me, I’m hilarious. Who massages the masseuse? I’ll have Shell find me something. Keep it interesting. Place yer bets: seedy and cheap or golden toilets and happy endings? As long as it’s somewhere warm.

Renee posted the pictures from her honeymoon. Skiing in the Alps. She always used to hate the snow. Guess people change. Change can be a good thing. 

She’s better off. 

___

EXCERPT 2: SCARF

TIMELINE: The night of Good. Things. Take. Time.

…

Shell hit the jackpot on this one. Perfect plaything. She’s like I custom ordered a client. Recurring cluster knots all down her starboard teres major, needs a hand getting in under the port shoulder blade…can’t do it alone. Needs my hands. She needs me. Follows directions, trusts completely. Has a good imagination. That will open up more in time. I expect a challenge out of this one. Surprised the shit out of me with the beautiful thing though. Maybe shouldn’t have let her have that. Maybe shouldn’t have gone down on her. It’s fine. She’s clean. Tastes good smells good ass for days. I can get a good handful. Everywhere.

And perfect inside. Tight but not too tight, good control with the right assistance, takes direction like a dream. I’ll be able to get her to sing if she keeps listening. Mierda, her skin. My hands want to eat it. Oil it up and map it out and scarf it down. Her muscle structure is    -just-    amazing. I haven’t been this amped in months. This one hits the spot.

Giving her Thursday across the board might have come off too eager. Well, if that didn’t, offering up extra days on call probably did. Jackass.

Not gonna worry about that tonight. Bowling with the guys tomorrow night. Hope they’re ready to eat their damn balls. I’m fucking invincible.

She called me beautiful. She’s [sentence scratched out] 

Forgot to note in her file–she said she hasn’t had anyone make her come in over a year even though info says she’s only been divorced a few months. What kind of an asshole just walks away from that her? How could anyone share a bed or a house or anything with that and resist for a year? She deserves to get fucked every day. Why wouldn’t you want someone that just falls into you so willingly and fucks so pretty? Great. Now I’m angry. Not my concern. Just my gain.

___

EXCERPT 3: COZY 

TIMELINE: weekend evening, after installment #2, relieving period cramps

…

Keep thinking about Thursday. It’s not about the blood. It is and it isn’t. It’s obviously that she needed relief. It’s good to see her trusting. That can be tricky for some women. Beaten into them that they have to hide what their body does. It’s a body. It’s a unique mechanism. It has shit and blood and needs a good release now and then. Or every day for some people...another truth for some of us that the world wants hidden away.

The blood’s messy. It’s primal. It’s brutal and nobody blinks an eye if it comes from a punch to the face or a slice of the thumb. But the minute it comes from the minute it shows you what  a woman’s body is capable of… But it’s also the harshness of the color, a signal that if there’s pain then it’s real. It’s a helpful focus.

She just LETS me. There's beauty in that pliability. She trusts, she follows, she heals. The way her face just relaxes when the knots are gone. It’s almost as good as the orgasm itself. Beautiful.

Got her all warmed up in the bath, all cozy in bed. Fell asleep like a worn-out kitten and I had an urge to kiss her forehead. Poor thing just needed it today. Successful session.

___

EXCERPT 4: FIREPLACE 

TIMELINE: a couple of weeks later, evening, after installment #3, the treatment for migraine and anxiety AND includes this six sentence ficlet

…

Well shit. There’s a coincidence. She wouldn’t believe me if I told her.

Thursday came in tonight tight as a screw, migraine a good 7 or 8. I had to take it slow. Asked her to focus on some bright spots in her life, like her favorite things. I might have guessed the animals and reading, but the fanfiction was a surprise. Cute. It was best not to talk about what was causing the stress because

Her family coming to stay.

Fuck if I don’t sympathize. 

Mama got here two days ago and all she can do is complain about her hotel and American food and how everyone speaks too fast for her to keep up. It’s cold here. The hotel should have a fireplace. Why don’t you take time off Patricio? You have an extra bedroom, why can’t your mama sleep there?

I love her. But I get it. There are just some boundaries that are hard. I get you, Thursday.

Preciosa.

Fucked her five ways til Sunday. She fucked ME five ways till Sunday.. She drew blood. Didn’t even care. Mark me up, girl. Glad I could help, but damn that might have been more mutually beneficial than I’d originally planned.

___

EXCERPT 5: HOT CHOCOLATE 

TIMELINE: night of installment #4, with the undergarment ripping and the thigh-highs

…

I didn’t expect to get to play this much. I’m usually so focused on the pain and making sure the client can come in their condition that there’s not a lot of room for fun and surprises. I got to take Shell out last weekend and might have bought her too many beers and pull-tabs. It took her about three bottles to get profound. She wants to know who "therapies the therapist" and told me I should remember that it’s okay to put my own priorities first sometime. She said that people in the industry of care need to be taken care of too. She said it’s okay to have a client that gives as good as she gets. Then she went home and threw up and texted me the next day that she’s drinking nothing but hot chocolate from now on. Haha

Shit. Thursday feels good when she walks out of here. She looks like a million bucks. I did that. I DO that. THAT’s what I need. So yeah. Why shouldn’t I enjoy that? Cute tonight. She wanted me to rip her panties. All she had to do was ask, but I think she was embarrassed to?

So the new diagnosis is lack of confidence and the treatment is for her to speak up for what she wants. We’re going to get her to a place where she can ask–or demand what she needs. We’ll work on her trusting that I’ll give her anything she wants–anything. 

She’ll be able to walk out of here and conquer the world when I’m done with her.

___

EXCERPT 6: FREEZING 

TIMELINE: a couple of weeks after the previous entry

...

[….] and Niels can go to hell though because I don’t care how low key it is or how good the whiskey is, I’m not giving up my Thursdays to fill in the hole in his poker night. His basement is freezing and I have warmer places to be.

Although speaking of, Thursday canceled again. It’s been a couple of weeks. Crunch time at work for her I guess. Her portal messages seem pretty stressed. She’s apologetic about missing sessions. I can tell her she doesn’t need to apologize, I’m getting paid whether she shows or not. And honestly, it just means we’re going to have to work that much harder to get her malleable again and I can hardly complain about that. A build up’s a hell of a thing. As long as she doesn’t mess up her rhombs again. We were just making headway on that. I should ask her about her desk chair.

But I’d be lying if I said that I gave a shit about the pay. I’m allowed to enjoy my clients and be disappointed when I don’t get to see them.

At least Jean’s back on Friday. It will be nice to see her again. Now that her latest surgery’s all healed up, we can find her some good positions for her to take home. I know her partner’s skittish about the discovery phase. But she’s almost done and when the reconstruction’s over, he’ll thank me for it. He SHOULD thank me for it, she’s got a good laugh and good tits.

Jean’s a perfect example of learning to speak up for herself. I can do the same for Preciosa. Lucky for her she doesn’t have Jean’s level of pain to work through. But she’s gotta show. up. for. it. Come on, girl. I got you.

___

EXCERPT 7: MARSHMALLOW

TIMELINE: directly after installment #5, all pent up and feral

…

Now THAT. Was a successful fuck. We’re making headway here. Little slapping, little biting, she got a good few hair yanks in there. She’s learning that not only am I not a marshmallow…neither is she. Good girl. Pretty high praise response, but she’s also got a little fight in her. She’s a switch and doesn’t even know it. She will. 

There were some real emotions tonight, real anger, real tears. But when she let go I nearly wept myself. It was beautiful. She’s working too hard and she knows it. But she also knows I’ve got her when she does. Hopefully that will preempt some of the stress next time. Not even upset about that shoulder blade. We’ll just start from the beginning on that.

[....]

Just reminded me of Renee nagging about working too hard. I just remembered that I had a dream about her a few nights ago. Not really about her. She was in the background somewhere and not even angry that I didn’t stop to say hello. Then she picked up her purse and left. The light kind of shifted like, I don’t know. Felt like it was the last time I’d see her. Not in a bad way. 

It’s good. Like a door really closing.

Maybe I do work too hard. But I like it. It’s who I am. It’s my choice.

____

PATS in winter by @d4rm4nd4

SERIES MASTERLIST

[swordsandholly]

def need more ditzy reader with mechanic 141- the only thing that tops my love for military men is blue collar boys <333

make sure to take care of yourself tho lovie!! don’t burn urself out :))

I for sure want to write more of her. Hopefully after this insane week at work I’ll be able to really sit down and crank out some writing. For now I’m battling my way through Ch 3 of Across the Way

But pls enjoy this little not proofread experimental snippet I wrote for ditzy reader

“Look.” Your landlord sighs loudly. Like you’re the one inconveniencing him. “I’ll send someone out.”

“That’s what you said two days ago! And three days before that!” You stomp your foot at no one just to get some of the anger out.

“I’ll get to it when I get to it.”

“Why can’t you-“ The line cuts before you can finish. The jerk hung up on you! What the hell!

You pout, plopping down into your desk chair and sighing. What are you supposed to do? You’re not allowed to call a handyman according to the lease and you don’t have a boyfriend right now. You can’t keep washing pans in the bathroom. It’s gross.

You huff.

“Alright?” Simon asks and you whirl in your chair. How does he walk so quietly?

“Yeah…” You pout harder under his steady gaze, slipping down further into the chair.

“You’re a terrible liar, luv.” His eyes crinkle in corners with a smile.

“Well…” You shrug, twiddling your thumbs in your lap. “My kitchen sink has been broken for a whole week and the landlord won’t do anything about it! I called and called and he just keeps saying he’ll send someone and then doesn’t!” Your voice pitches at the end, real annoyance bleeding through into the edges of your words. You fist your hands in your skirt.

“That’s all?” He raises an eyebrow. “Why didn’t you just ask one of us?”

You blink twice, staring up at him. Your face heats and you look away bashfully - not wanting to admit you didn’t think to ask for their help. Stupid. “I don’t want to be a bother…”

“I’ll come by after work.”

“You don’t have to-“

“I’ll be there.” He nods before marching back into the garage. You just blink after him as he goes.

True to his word, Simon shows up at your door with a massive tool box in hand. Really, he still can’t believe you live in such a shit complex. Price pays you well enough. The locks might as well be paper-mache. Simon lowers his mask before knocking. He trusts you with his face - hell you probably forget it every time you look away - but he also wants you to trust him too. For whatever reason.

You’re staring when you open the door. Big doe eyes looking up at him and blinking slowly. He wonders what goes on behind those blank eyes of yours - if it’s nothing at all or such a chaotic dialogue that you can’t process it enough to pay attention.

All or nothing.

“Gonna let me in, doll?” He asks. You startle, not realizing how intensely you zoned out.

“Oh! Yes!” You jump out of the way, letting him into your small studio apartment. Every time he thinks your shorts can’t get smaller he’s proven wrong.

Simon takes a look around, huffing at the net full of stuffies hanging on the wall. Everything about your home is soft - soft colors, soft fabrics. It smells like vanilla, just like you always do when you come into the shop. His eyes lock briefly on a well-loved sewing machine covered in stickers with a project still under the needle. You must have been working on it before he got here.

Did you mean to leave your bra hanging on the back of that chair right by the kitchen? Lacy and lilac. He’ll have to remember that for some other time. Maybe your birthday.

“Let’s ‘ave a look.” He sighs, knees popping as he crouches in front of the sink. It’s a fucking mess, that’s for sure. At least you figured out how to turn the water off.

“Pipe’s busted.” He says. “I can seal it but it’ll take a sec.”

“Okay.” You murmur.

Simon sighs as he turns onto his back to get a better look. He doesn’t miss the way you stare blatantly at his midsection as his shirt rides up. He might adjust some to expose just a bit more.

You really are the least subtle thing in the planet, aren’t you?

“Can you come hold the light f’me, luv?” He points to the toolbox.

“This one?” You ask, as if it isn’t the only flashlight in the box.

“Yeah.”

“Like this?”

“Yup.” At first he expects you to sit silently so he can concentrate, but he quickly realizes that was far too presumptuous.

“Do you have a girlfriend, Si?” You ask quietly.

He huffs. “No.”

“Oh.” You chew your lip. “You seem like the kind of guy that would.”

Simon has never heard a bigger misread in his damn life but he’ll take it as a compliment, he supposes. “Why do you ask?”

“Cause this is boyfriend work and you’re good at it.”

Simon tries to see your logic - he really does - but he just has no clue how those things are even remotely related. Sure, guys fix things for their girlfriends but calling it ‘boyfriend work’ when anybody with two cents could do it is a bit silly. More than, if he’s honest. He just grunts in response, at a total loss for how to respond.

Simon looks down at you. The way you kneel as your cleaving spills out of your tiny tank top - one of many you insist on wearing so often. He can give into temptation just a little bit, right? “Gonna need you to get closer, doll.”

“Oh!” You scoot forward until your knees brush his side. So ready to listen. Cute.

“Can you lean in a bit?”

“Like this?” You lean forward, chest pressing against him while your hand splays over his midsection for balance. Fucking hell.

“Perfect. Good girl.”

It’s bold and a bit uncoordinated even for him. Something Johnny would try. The purposeful choice of words seems to go right over your head. Instead you blush and smile, shifting your hips just a bit. Your chest pushes further into him. So soft.

Fuck.

You’ll be the death of him. Thank god you’re too unobservant to notice that he’s rock fucking hard.

He’s already done with the sink by the time of this little exchange, but he pretends to tighten some useless bolts anyway just to keep you against him a little longer before shooing you away. It’s cute, the way you scramble to get out of the way. Simon turns the water back on before standing, and gesturing toward the sink.

“Give it a try, luv.”

A little furrow forms in your brow as you step forward to turn it on, crouching and standing to make sure the leak has stopped. You turn the faucet off and whip your head around with a grin.

He’s pretty sure you burst an eardrum with the pitch of the squeal you let out, bouncing over and tightly wrapping your arms around his waist. “Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!”

“It’s no pro-“ he cuts off as you push up onto your tip toes and press a kiss to his cheek. He can’t help but bark out a laugh. Little minx.

“Oh, I got some lipstick-“ You reach up to smudge it off but he bats your hand away. He’ll wear it back to the garage and show off the kiss he got. Johnny’s going to absolutely fume.

[blackknight-kai]

Any headcanons for Sun Wukong and the Destined One [separate] catching female reader masturbating while crying out their name?

GOING BRAINROT FERAL HERE!

Ahem….

Thank you for feeding us with your delicious posts;)

Sending you lots of love and blessings, sincere and heartfelt health wishes too🩷🩷🩷

Okay okay I’ll give this a shot 😏 I personally feel like it might depend on the mood and where they are in the relationship. BUT I’ll give a crack at this one! This will be a specific scenario as I work better like that - in this you are in a relationship with them but haven’t progressed to the next level yet and you are a bit pent up. There will be a little rushed snippet and then the bullet point notes :) WARNING: I went more NSFW in this than previous asks. This is Fem reader! MINOR DNI

(Note after finishing: I got carried away…..after writing this I realized I kinda made two fics so….its a bit long sorry not sorry :))))))))))) (I’ll be turning these into mini fics I think on AO3 since i basically wrote them already 💀)

(Read under the cut 😘)

Destined One

He’d left you alone to scout the area around your near and camp as he does every night for any possible danger or trouble that might happen upon you while resting. You’d decided to take a little personal time while he was away, something you wouldn’t normally do but you guys had found a little cozy cave to rest in for the night. Knowing it would be a while before he came back you set about quickly setting up your furs and bed rolls, your body already revving up in anticipation for what youre going to do. You’re happy being with him, finally having confessed mutually and sneaking a few kisses here or there between your travels but watching him day in and day out fight with such focus and strength has culminated in a prominent need.

A need to have his hands on you for more than just guiding you or helping you stand, to feel his fur brush against your naked skin, to deepen those tantalizing kisses. You just WANT. And he hasn’t made any moves to show you that he wants more besides maybe what you think is a disappointed look in his eye when you both pull back from your kisses and go about your day or whatever task is at hand. He’s not very expressive as it is, you were lucky to manage getting a slight flush on his cheeks and a firm head nod when you guys decided to be a couple. He’s good at masking his emotions and so while you want him, youre a bit nervous to tell him what you need. You have no doubts he’d fulfill it especially if it’s something he wants too. But getting the courage up to ask is another thing entirely, part of you wishes he would just DO something.

So instead of communicating your need you decide to take advantage of this prime opportunity while he is away, its been too long since you had any real privacy and you can already feel yourself pulse as you finish setting up for the night

Just in case you listen closely for a moment to see if there is anyone close by but hearing nothing you settle down on to your back on your bed roll. Your breath picks up as excitement washes over you and against your better judgment you slip your clothes off. Goose bumps ripple over your skin as the warm breeze gently flows through the cave. Your heart races and as you skim your fingers across your breasts and nipples you sigh as you close your eyes and imagine familiar claw tipped hands replacing your own. You picture him above you, his determined frown focused on you as he explores your skin. As your imagination takes hold you continue your perusal of your body sliding your fingers down trying not to rush too much in your need as you spread your thighs.

- [ ] His patrol doesnt take quite as long as it usually does tonight

- [ ] At first he takes his time heading back just enjoying not having to be in a rush for once

- [ ] But as his too sharp hearing picks up the distant sound of your voice, what sounds like a pained cry, he immediately goes tense and is off running back towards your cave his staff gripped tightly in hand

- [ ] As he quickly grows closer he notes a distinct difference in your voice, something about it makes him slow down

- [ ] Your sounds are not what he usually associates with your fear or pain

- [ ] Instead as the next sound carries through the forest for his expert hearing, the breathy tone of your voice instantly sends a ripple through him and makes his fur feel like its standing on end

- [ ] He’d heard these sounds before, just not from you. The other monkey’s from home would occasionally sneak off with each other and he’d have the pleasure of hearing their activities even being quite a ways away.

- [ ] This though doesnt give him the same grossed out feeling

- [ ] Oh no. It sends a tidal wave of heat straight to gut

- [ ] You are being pleasured and by the sounds of it youre enjoying yourself

- [ ] A flash of possessive anger rushes through him wondering who could be touching you in such a way that wasnt him

- [ ] But as he stalks closer and steps between the trees he freezes

- [ ] Relief washes over him, youre alone

- [ ] But thats quickly replaced by instant hot desire as his mouth goes dry and his length starts to harden just from that first glimpse

- [ ] You’re in the shallow cave NAKED and on your back, knees up and thighs spread.

- [ ] His mouth slowly falls open as his expression goes slack as it becomes very clear what you’re doing by the wet slick sound coming from between your legs where your hand disappears from his view

- [ ] He cant even blink nor look away completely and utterly locked on to your flushed skin and the needy pinch of your brow as you pant making soft little moans

- [ ] As you arch your back, a louder cry leaving your mouth as you shift your hips desperately, he feels his cock throb painfully bringing him back to reality for a moment

- [ ] Shame courses through him, he should NOT be watching this, you obviously waited until hed been gone to take your pleasure he should definitely grant you your privacy. While you are a couple he wasnt one to push past your boundaries not wanting to make you do something youre not ready for no matter how much he struggles to not touch you every damn day

- [ ] But he cant seem to move, not as your breasts jiggle softly from your body’s movements your peaked nipples drawing his attention.

- [ ] He licks his lips, tail twitching with jerky movements behind him as he feels his cock leak and wet the front of his pants from your display, fuck does he want you

- [ ] Clenching his fists hard, digging his claws into his skin he tries to come back to himself and just as he’s about to turn away from you your fingers seem to speed up and then he hears it

- [ ] It being HIS name being ripped out of your mouth in the most breathy needy tone he has ever heard, the name youd given him.

- [ ] He has to grip himself HARD to stop himself from cumming on the spot and he shudders as the wet sounds your fingers are making is driving him fucking insane

- [ ] He forgets himself completely and unable to help it steps towards you as his own desire to be the one to make you cry for him like that over takes him

- [ ] He practically pants, his breath coming in short bursts as he takes in your sweat slick skin and the red flush

- [ ] His body thrums with heat as the sounds of your moans and the wet easy slide of your fingers is all he can focus on as he steps onto your bedroll, his dick is hard as hell and twitches with every sound you make.

- [ ] And your scent, fuck he can smell your ecstasy and need. It makes his knees weak and his mouth water

- [ ] You dont seem to notice him right away, not until he’s dropping to his knees hard right beside you fully taking in how wet your thighs are and how slick your fingers look as they disappear inside you

- [ ] As you register his sudden presence though your eyes fly open and your movements freeze, he cant help but track the movement of your breasts as you lie there panting and surprised

- [ ] He doesnt give you even a moment to freak out or whatever it is you might do

- [ ] No, instead he places a shaky hand on your arm, the one you stretched down between your thighs as you took your gorgeous pleasure

- [ ] “Can I?” He asks lowly, voice rough with disuse and filled with thick desire. “Please?”

- [ ] You seem to still at his request your eyes widening and he holds his own breath waiting to see what you’d do. He hopes with every fiber of his being you say yes

- [ ] When you nod shyly and begin to retract your hand he slides his gently down your arm and shivers as his claw tipped fingers meet with your slick warm ones. His eyes never leave yours as much as he wants to look down, he doesnt want to miss the expression on your face.

- [ ] He doesnt hold your hand though, instead he continues his gently descent until he meets your soaked warm pussy lips

- [ ] It’s then that he finally lets out the breath shaky he was holding as you arch up into his touch pushing his fingers to slide further against your slick core

- [ ] His cock jerks painfully at how hot and wet you feel as his fingers tenderly explore. As you close your eyes reaching up to grip his shirt with your still slick fingers he lets his own gaze slide down your body watching as you shyly shift your hips against his long fingers

- [ ] When you let out a little breathy sound as he brushes against your little nub he knows hes a fucking goner

- [ ] “You’re so beautiful,” He’d mumble raspy and heated

- [ ] And when he finally slides a finger in you another immediately follows. with you so slick and ready for him causing him to groan deeply

- [ ] He has made it his mission from here on, this is how you will spend every night from now on. You wont need to take things into your own hands, not if he can help it.

Wukong

He is away doing whatever it is that Wukong does every day. Be it fighting something, pissing someone off, or just getting into something he probably definitely absolutely should not get into. You’d been hurt, twisted your ankle of all things, so you were stuck back at camp. You’d found a little shallow cave two days ago to recover at, not wanting Wukong to carry you everywhere. On the surface that sounds nice and he would definitely do it as you either fed his ego or told him he was too weak to do it. He’s easy like that. But what isnt easy to deal with is how much fun he has tossing you up and down or making you almost sick as he bounces you as he walks just because he thinks its funny to make you squawk with annoyance at him. So it’s easier to just rest and enjoy a little peace while he gallivants off to cause whatever mischief that doesnt have to do with you for once as you are his usual victim. Apparently having mutual feelings and being mates does not quell his need for chaos. In fact it amplifies it you think.

The only downside to having his attention on you even more now is that the mischievous little (he’s taller than you but thats besides the point) asshole doesnt seem to have a horny bone in his body. It’s been months of simple hand holding, if you can get him to sit still long enough, and literal stolen kisses. He apparently enjoys his little surprise attacks as they fluster you but not because youre too shy or because it scares you, no. It’s because you need more than a simple kiss or his soft fuzzy tail wrapping around your waist or arm keeping you close to him as you walk. You’d even tried once to time changing your clothes so they were partly off when he would be arriving back to camp after doing a quick patrol only for him to immediately start ranting and raving about some slippery little creature he’d happened across as he poked at the fire and began cooking that nights dinner over the flames. He didn’t even spare you a glance and his posture was relaxed as can be. Not even as the sound of your clothes rustling seemed to catch his attention as he drooled over the cooking food.

And so, your frustration escalated. You know at some point you’ll have to talk to him but thats a problem for future you because you just KNOW it’s going to be an ordeal. Nothing can ever be easy with him especially when it comes to his damn ego which no doubt will be stroked heavily knowing you want him, that is unless he doesnt have an inclination towards such intimacies.

Today he had been especially restless and so had you. You had decided that while he was gone you were going to pamper yourself a little and relieve the sexual tension you’d built up inside yourself. Watching his ever present shows of strength and that cocky attitude of his always sends a stirring in you and it doesnt help when he walks around sometimes with his shirt off showing his rippling muscles under all that soft looking fur. When he finally grew too impatient with sitting around, he didn’t like having to wait for you to heal but agreed to it nonetheless knowing you aren’t built like him, he stood abruptly and told you he was going on an adventure. You waved him off trying to be nonchalant as excitement tickled down your back knowing what you had planned for yourself for the day.

And so as his furry tail flicked out of view you waited a handful of minutes giving him time to get some distance away before you couldnt take it anymore. You’d gotten a nice body oil from a village youd passed by a week or so ago, it smelled lovely and reminded you of peaches. You hadn’t used it yet, but figured if it had a fragrance Wukong’s sensitive nose wouldn’t be too disturbed if it smelled like his favorite snack. Acting quickly you hurry to wash your skin and body in a near by spring. You might have taken your time normally but you didn’t want to put this off any longer. After youre done you make your way to back to the shallow cave and sit on your bed roll and fur blankets that Wukong had gifted you. Your skin is still a little damp and the afternoon breeze makes goosebumps ripple across your naked skin. With a small content hum you grab your sweet scented oil and being applying it to your skin slowly, gently, enjoying the sensation as your body starts to warm up from your ministrations.

As your breath starts to quicken you lie back on the furs and using both hands you glide your hands across your soft oil slick skin sensually. It’s not long before you close your eyes and start to lose yourself in a fantasy, imagining a hard but softly furred body rolling against yours and curious fingers possessively mapping out your skin as teasing fangs nip from your neck to your breasts.

- [ ] Wukong had grown bored VERY quickly after he left you at camp. There was NOTHING around for him to do no one to fight and no distractions from his ever growing need to be closer to you - which he will NEVER show.

- [ ] He doesnt know if youre doing it on purpose, probably not, but the way you sometimes look at him makes him twitchy and hot. He’s not some impulsive boy unable to control his more primal urges but you test his control daily

- [ ] He’s not sure if you’ve been using a new scented lotion or perfume but the scent coming off of you at random times the last several weeks has been making him need to grind his teeth to keep from reaching out and pulling your body tightly against his

- [ ] Thankfully he’s learned self discipline and finds it relatively easy to keep an air of innocence around you, not wanting to scare you off with his ever present and growing desire to lick you from your cute little toes to your sweet sweet mouth.

- [ ] Sitting around camp with you today was testing his patience. He’d noticed that slight flush on your cheeks assumed you may just be a bit warm as the day was a little hotter than usual. Unfortunately the sight of your reddened cheeks did nothing but fuel his imagination.

- [ ] If hes honest with himself desires like this were new, not in regards to you, but in general. So getting away from you for a while was always the best bet, he keeps an ear out in case you need him of course but fighting something always helps relieve the tension he builds up being in your presence

- [ ] Unfortunately the area surrounding your little temporary home was quiet. Too damn quiet. He almost thinks about going a little further out but quickly decides against it, not wanting to get too far from you in case something DID happen

- [ ] Which is why, as he’s hopping through the large forest trees, he ends up circling back towards the shallow cave

- [ ] His pace is fairly lax, enjoying the warm air and the calm familiar sounds of the woods

- [ ] Wukongs mind wanders a little to what lies ahead on your little journey as he makes his way back. He’s quite lost in thought so it takes him a moment to realize that something is amiss as he gets closer

- [ ] His sharp ears pick up the sound of your voice but it’s not something he’s heard before, or well he has, kind of. Only when youd eaten something really really good and you make a happy little noise that always makes his old heart skip a beat

- [ ] Well now he’s just curious, what did you find to eat? Were you hiding it from him to keep it all to yourself? How had he not known? Or smelled it?

- [ ] With a huff he picks up his pace racing through the trees determined to give you shit for trying to hide some wonderful little treat from him

- [ ] He can hear you better now that he’s close and just before he breaks through the trees he stops with a smirk deciding to sneak up on you as punishment

- [ ] But in his haste he missed a crucial detail - one he now is acutely aware of as he pauses just as the little camp comes into view

- [ ] He freezes, going completely still as he takes in the sight before him and the very obvious soft squelching sound echoing a little in the shallow cave. His keen hearing amplifying the sound.

- [ ] Hot HOT desire ripples through his strong frame causing every single hair on his body to stand on end like he’d been hit by lightning as he takes in your naked body, hips shifting just so as your hand is going to work between your thighs as you moan

- [ ] His simian nostrils flare as your scent hits him like a boulder almost knocking him off his feet, well at least now he knows where that heady scent you sometimes carry comes from. He salivates at the thought of tasting your nectar. There’s another scent mixed with your pleasure, faintly it smells almost like peaches but not quite.

- [ ] Your soft sounds wash over him causing a full on shudder to go through him. His cock hardening in an instant as you then whine HIS fucking name

- [ ] Something inside him almost snaps - later youd tell him it was his arrogance and ego swelling to the size of 5 mountains

- [ ] You are touching yourself wanting HIM, Wukong, and that sends a possessive growl rumbling through his chest, his claw tipped fingers flexing with the need to reach out and grab you, to touch you, to run his claws gently down your skin and watch you shiver and squirm

- [ ] You dont hear it of course too lost in stuffing your needy hole but by the sounds of it, its not quite enough for you

- [ ] Wukong keeps himself in place for a moment longer as he watches you tend to yourself, one of your hands slides up the side of your breast and pinches a nipple and he licks his lips at the sight, wanting to know what they taste like

- [ ] His tail flicks with pent up energy behind him as he finally stalks forward, a predator about to pounce on his prey

- [ ] But he has no intentions of helping you as he strips himself of his shirt letting it fall to the ground not caring where

- [ ] His furry chest is rapidly expanding with his quickened breaths, he breathes purposely through his nose wanting to capture every moment of your scent and commit it to memory

- [ ] Finally sensing you’re not alone you open your eyes and still with a sharp shocked breath. He watches as your cheeks redden further with surprise and embarrassment

- [ ] Quick as a whip before you can even pull your fingers away from your soaked pussy he’s between your knees bullying his way through with one hand holding you open by his grip on your thigh and his tail wrapping around the other. Spreading you open for his heated gaze

- [ ] He has ahold of your wrist preventing you from pulling back and before you can even think of protesting he pulls on your wrist, gently but firmly, you gasp as your fingers slip out of your pussy, the wet sound sending a tingle of embarrassment through you

- [ ] Instantly he has your dripping fingers pressed against his nose and mouth as he huffs in your scent before licking at them

- [ ] Feeling you tremble in his strong hold and your little shocked gasp he locks eyes with you and smirks as he licks your fingers completely clean as though he was starving for the taste

- [ ] He can tell you dont know what to do, that your torn between embarrassment and want. But he doesnt mind, he’s made the decision for you

- [ ] Wukong nips your fingers teasingly before he lowers your hand and places it back against your pussy, he uses his fingers to press yours pointedly against your slick lower lips and the little wet sound that accompanies the movement makes you both shiver.

- [ ] He slips his fingers in between yours, teasingly touching you for a moment as his fingers glide through your slick

- [ ] A light growl/groan rumbles through his chest as he looks at you with half lidded eyes filled with naked desire

- [ ] Slowly and deliberately he lets go of your hand, pleased when you keep your hand right where he’d placed it, and begins undoing his pants

- [ ] His puffs his furry chest out a little and chuckles, the sound husky as he watches your expression turn needy as he dips his hand into his pants and brings his throbbing dick out, enjoying how heavily your breathing gets and how your eyes seem to be unable to look away as he spreads your juices over his cock

- [ ] Scooting forward so that his cock presses against the back of your knuckles he smirks down at you

- [ ] “Since you decided to take your pleasure for yourself, give us a show my sweet peach.” He demands like the king he is with no room for arguments, wanting you to resume touching yourself while he watches and takes himself in hand. Punishing you a little for taking a special privilege away from him

[zomtart]

Chapter 1: Morphine and Lavender (Frank Castle x Fem!Reader)

okay this is terrifying but hi I am going to share some of my writing! this is just a snippet I wrote cause Frank is always on the brain. thank you tuna team for the encouragement <3

content warnings: hospital, canon-typical violence/gore, mentions of needles, language

word count: 1.1k

Frank was beginning to think they had left him in there to die when he heard a knock. You opened the door with a huff, brushing your hair out of your face before giving Frank a curt nod.

“Alright, hi, sorry, I know I’m not your assigned nurse but everyone in my unit decided to take lunch at the same time, so you are stuck with me at the moment.” you mumbled, barely looking up at Frank as you wheeled your computer stand to his side. You stayed outside of the duct-taped line, but it didn’t seem to bother you much. In fact, you didn’t seem bothered at all. Frank’s eyebrows furrowed together as you pulled up his medical profile, searching for his name.

“Okay, you are Mr…Castle?” you asked, the sound of your mouse clicking echoing in the small hospital room.

He blinked, dumbfounded. “...yes ma’am.”

You nodded, your relaxed (but rather exhausted) expression staying constant even as you said the name that was headlining every newspaper in New York. 

“Mr. Castle, could you give me a pain rating on a scale of 1-10?”

He blinked again. He felt like he had fallen into some sort of alternate universe. His assigned nurse hadn’t talked to him in the few days he’d been here, much less give him treatment he’d give another patient. An innocent patient. 

“Mr. Castle?” you repeated. 

“Right--uh…five.” he said quietly.

At that, you raised an eyebrow, looking him up and down slowly. You eyed the numerous bruises, cuts, and scars he was no doubt covered in, and asked, “That your final answer?” 

Something like a smile itched at his lips, but he forced it down. “...yes.” 

You shrugged, typing something into your computer. “Alright, well at least the painkillers are doing something. I’ll make sure to get a refill for that--” you paused as you looked at the full IV bag of morphine, following the IV down to…the floor.

You grabbed at the IV, looking at the wire and then back to Frank. “Did you yank this out?”

“No, ma’am.”

“The fuck?” you murmured, before understanding seemed to dawn on you. The cuffs, the bright red line of tape, the bruises on his face. Frank waited for disgust, for you to become terrified, for you to spit in his face. Instead, you stubbornly set your jaw and walked back to your computer. 

“Who the hell is your nurse?” you sounded furious, but it didn’t seem aimed at him.

Frank, through his confusion, could only shrug.

You rapidly typed at the keyboard, eyes running up and down the screen. Then you stopped scrolling, eyes narrowing. “Did he have blonde hair? Eagle tattoo on his forearm?”

Frank vaguely remembered the eyes of an eagle staring back at him as he faded in and out consciousness from the pain, a man with blonde hair sneering down at him. He nodded. 

“...motherfucker.” you all but growled, and the sound turned into a jagged laugh. You threw your hands up. “Aaron. Of course it--god fucking…damnit--”

Frank felt he was obligated to ask, or maybe his curiosity got the best of him. “Ma’am, are you alright?”

You laughed humorlessly again, words tumbling out of your mouth. “Oh yeah. I’m just peachy. I haven’t slept in two days, haven’t been in my own bed in almost a week, and all because I need to take extra shifts. Why do I need to take extra shifts? Oh, I don’t know, maybe because I decided to move to New York fucking City where an apartment room costs more than an arm and a leg! And just when I think--oh just when I think I’m gonna get that promotion? No. No, I lose it to Aaron, who won’t even do his goddamn job correctly!” you finished with a burst of gusto, before collapsing down into a chair.

You just sat there for a minute, face buried in your hands, and Frank wasn’t quite sure what to do besides give you the grace of silence. 

The absence of noise was quickly interrupted by your pager going off, and you reluctantly held it up to your vision before sighing and putting it back at your hip. It seemed to snap you back into reality, and you stood up and smoothed down your hair.

“I’m…very sorry about that Mr…” you glanced up at the computer again. “...Castle. I’m--that was unprofessional, it has just been a…very long week.”

Frank’s eyebrows furrowed. “...you really don’t know who I am?” 

You grabbed some gloves from the table and snapped them on. “Someone very humble, I see.”

That got him to laugh, a low rumble that made its way out of his throat. He…couldn’t remember the last time he had laughed. It felt nice. Familiar, even after all this time. 

You shook your head with a small smile, grabbing the IV and sterilizing it. “No, I do not. I’m not even sure what day it is, to be honest.”

He nodded, stretching out his arm for you and making a fist. “But you…I mean they told you…somethin’, right? A warning?”

“I vaguely recall being told to stay behind the red line besides when absolutely necessary, yes.” you said, readying the needle. “Small pinch.” 

He stared, barely registering the sensation of the IV. “...so you…then why would you…?” He tried to find the answer in your face, but all he could see was concentration onyourtask. 

“Why would I…?” you repeated, waiting for him to continue. With the IV in his arm you took your gloves off, typing something on your computer.

“...I don’t know, you’re just being awfully kind.”

You pursed your lips, a hand going to your hip. “I’m not being kind, I’m doing my job. I took an oath to help people, no matter who they were, and that’s what I’m doing. Simple as that.” 

He grunted absentmindedly, his eyes flitting to the window. Ten stories down, New York raged on, lights flashing like fireworks. “Doesn’t seem simple.”

You shrugged. “It is to me.” you started wheeling out your computer. “I’ll be back to check on you in a couple hours. Hopefully that IV will help. If that dipshit comes in here again, you tell him about nurse malpractice. You have constitutional rights, even if you are off robbing banks or whatnot.”

With that, you were gone, the faint scent of lavender left in your wake.

Frank blinked. “...robbing banks,” he mumbled before closing his eyes, letting the numb feeling of morphine finally lull him into sleep.

[kiwriteswords]

Can you do Hotch and reader's first kiss but reader's glasses gets in the way and is fogged up and Hotch is a charming tease about it?

Another night, can’t sleep…so here’s a Drabble!!

—

The BAU office was quiet, the soft hum of computers the only sound filling the space. You leaned back in your chair, rubbing your eyes beneath your glasses as you squinted at the screen. The case had been long and grueling, but there was still more paperwork to get through.

A familiar presence appeared beside you—Hotch. His quiet steps and calm demeanor always managed to draw your attention, even when you were buried in work.

“You’ve been at this for hours,” he observed, his voice soft yet commanding.

You glanced up at him, the fog from exhaustion clouding your mind.

Hotch looked down at you, his gaze steady. “You should take a break.”

You huffed out a small laugh, pushing your glasses up the bridge of your nose. “You know as well as I do that the work never ends.”

“True,” he acknowledged, “but you still need to take care of yourself.”

He reached out, his hand hovering near your shoulder. “Come on, just a few minutes away from the desk.”

You stood up reluctantly, and as you moved, your glasses fogged up from the sudden change in temperature between the office and the hallway. You fumbled, trying to take them off, and Hotch’s low chuckle rumbled in your ears.

“Trouble seeing?” he teased, a rare smile playing on his lips.

You huffed, half-laughing. “Yeah, it happens.”

Before you could clean your glasses, Hotch gently took them from your hands, his fingers brushing yours. “Let me help,” he said, his voice a touch lower than usual.

Your breath caught as he carefully wiped the lenses on the sleeve of his suit jacket, his movements slow and deliberate. The small smile on his face remained as he held them out to you. You could feel the warmth radiating between you two, the air heavy with unspoken tension.

“Thanks,” you murmured, reaching to take them back. But as you did, Hotch took a step closer, and suddenly the space between you felt almost nonexistent.

“You know,” he said, his voice dropping to a murmur, “I’ve noticed something about you.”

Your heart raced. “What’s that?”

His eyes flickered to your lips for just a second before meeting yours again, and in that moment, you realized just how close he was. “You always look so focused when you're working. But now… you’re a little distracted.”

You blinked, the warmth of his nearness making your skin tingle. “You’re distracting.”

He chuckled softly, his hand coming up to brush a strand of hair from your face. “Maybe that’s my goal.”

Before you could reply, he leaned in, his lips brushing against yours. It was soft at first, tentative, as if he was testing the waters. But when you sighed into the kiss, he deepened it, one hand gently cupping your cheek.

Except, your glasses—now perched awkwardly on your face—bumped against him, causing a soft clink.

You both pulled back, and you could feel your cheeks heat up with embarrassment. “My glasses…” you started, fumbling to take them off again.

Hotch laughed, a low, rich sound. “You’ve got to stop letting these things get in the way.”

He gently took them off for you, his smile teasing. “I’ll hold onto these for now,” he said, slipping them into his pocket.

You couldn’t help but laugh, shaking your head. “You’re impossible.”

“Maybe,” he agreed, leaning in once more, his lips finding yours again—this time, without anything in the way.

—-

I can’t sleep, so send me stuff to write for a Drabble or snippet of a one shot!

[milktrician]

For the wip game, "Your shadow beckons me" ?

This one covers two wips I have but they both center around Shen Yuan being a clone of Shen Jiu, being cloned while he was in Qiu Manor. I might write both of these ideas out someday? This first one covers the idea while in the Qing generation's disciple era:

Shen Yuan wakes to that same young man from before staring at his face. His handsome face is covered in tears, the skin under his eyes flushed and nose rubbed red.

“A-Apologies. Visiting hours are over but Mu-shidi allowed me to stay.” The guy states as he cleans his face with a handkerchief. He takes in a long deep breath before he is able to look at Shen Yuan once more, “I don’t believe we’ve been properly introduced. This one is named Yue Qingyuan by his Shizun.”

“…I look like your friend. Don’t I? That’s why you’re here?”

Honestly he just wants this guy to not cry over him. Seriously, huh? Don’t grieve over him, grieve somewhere else man!

Yue Qingyuan lets out a defeated laugh,

“I suppose so.”

He sits up, noticing the book across his blankets he probably passed out reading.

“Don’t compare me. I don’t think that’s good for your head.”

Yue Qingyuan takes a sharp breath, “Sorry.”

He sighs, “I suppose I should be thanking you though. Aren’t you the one who led them to me?”

“Not to you directly. I was looking for someone else.” Yue Qingyuan seems to frown.

He shrugs at the phrasing, “Hey, you’re still the reason I’m here. You basically saved me, huh? I’d probably be rotting in that plant pod thing and maybe never developed some consciousness. I’m alive because you got to me in time.”

He smiles, because it feels like the right thing to do.

Yue Qingyuan only seems to stare at him, newly formed tears streaming down his cheeks. What the hell he thought he was doing a good thing! Dude, stop crying!

“Hey—don’t cry. Why are you crying?”

He grabs the discarded handkerchief and pushes Yue Qingyuan’s hands out of the way to wipe the man’s face like you would do for a young kid. The guy accepts his touch, visibly slumping in his seat. It takes a few minutes for him to calm down, before he stands and collects himself.

Yue Qingyuan opens the door, turning behind him and muttering, “Apologies for bothering you. I’ll leave you be.” 

“…Okay? Uh, see you later, I guess?”

Yue Qingyuan bites his lip, but leaves nonetheless.

Next snippet is from the other wip of this idea, probably a little bit before pre-canon:

Shen Qingqiu didn’t know what he was doing when he accepted a mission in this city. Perhaps it was the way Yue Qingyuan looked at him during the meeting. Or the way that brute taunted him, or the way Shang Qinghua tried to take the mission off him instead. Who knows why that coward would try his hand at investigating this mess.

But said mess had been dealt with by his senior disciples, and they had a night at the inn to recuperate before heading back to the sect in the morning.

And here he was. Only a short flight away from what used to be a sprawling manor outside the city.

Lazy bastards never even cleaned up the burnt mess, instead it seemed picked clean by animals and looters. The wood that’s left has rotted, and flora have taken the rest of the space for themselves to conquer.

The smell of ash still somehow permeates as he walks along the remains, leaving a mental note to clean all this off of his robes before daylight. What’s left of the structure of the rooms and hallways all seems so small now. Standing tall amongst its remains.

And then his boots press onto metal, a soft clang that alerts him to a hatch hidden under debris. A place possibly untouched after all these years.

He remembers a hatch like this. Briefly.

He was drugged, his vision going in and out as he was carried someplace else. He remembers it smelled musty. Like the earth after it rains. Afterwards all he could feel was a burning sensation in what he now knows is his spiritual veins.

In a fluid motion he clears the debris with qi and throws the hatch open, not caring for the way it dirties his robes as he climbs down. He finds more overgrowth, weeds and plants similar to those outside. They’re different from the local flora he realizes, and must have spread out of this man-made cave.

He feels the massive pool of spiritual energy first before Xiu Ya glows to light the cavern. There, he sees its source. A large plant pod, bigger than any flower or fruit he has ever seen. It’s filled with a mass of spiritual energy, almost as if this plant has cultivated itself on its own. Its roots have spread all across the room and dug through the ground and stone to reach the surface to gather more nutrients.

He moves closer. The qi signature feels so familiar. He closes his eyes as he places a hand on the pod, and the qi begins entering and cleansing his system without resistance.

It feels like…

Him.

Focusing on cycling his qi back into the plant he almost freezes when it enters a system of spiritual veins. When he feels soft breathing through the pod. A heart beat.

His hands tear open the pod, fighting against the sticky substance that’s been holding it together for more than a decade. It spills out onto the floor, viscous, and all of a sudden his arms have encased the figure falling out of its prison.

There’s a young child in his arms, only slightly older than his youngest disciples. His hair only barely touches his back, limbs thin, and uncovered by cloth in this time are the ribs poking through his skin.

The same scars echo on this child's back.

The branding is clear as day.

This is him.

[princecharmingwinks]

Thank you for tag, lovely @noyzinerd !! The snippet you provided on your post was brilliant! I have a few little fics on the go but this one is probably the closest to finished. Not named yet but it is a 5+1 Sterek where Stiles working at a bookstore slowly meets different members of Derek's pack who know Stiles is the perfect match for Derek.

It was a quiet Tuesday afternoon at Alpha Books, Stiles the only staff on while the bosses were away on their 2 year anniversary trip. He was happily humming along to the radio, reshelving when the bell jingled announcing a new customer. 

Stiles popped his head out of the aisle and smiled, “Welcome to Alpha Books, can I help you find anything today?” The new customer was a girl, maybe a few years younger than him and small in stature but her whole presence radiated Tough, with a capital T.

“What do you get your older idiot brother to distract him from the ridiculousness of his life?”

Stiles tried not to grin at the exasperated tone but it must not have worked because the girl’s eyebrows crinkled into a judgemental frown.

“Sorry,” He offered in apology before completely stepping out of the aisle. “What does your brother like to read?”

She huffed out an annoyed sound but Stiles wasn’t completely convinced it was aimed at him. “I have no bloody clue. How do you work out someone’s tastes?”

“Well, what’s he like? Maybe we can work it out together?” Stiles was getting excited now, he loved a good book hunt.

She nodded, taking a moment to think. “He’s one of those crazy morning people who actually enjoys jogging before 7am. But it also means he’s in bed like an old grandma by sundown. He doesn’t like anything too horror-y or gore-y. I guess maybe some kind of adventure series?”

Stiles lit up with excitement, this brother sounded like he may enjoy one of Stiles’ personal favourite series. “Has he ever read the Bean and Pennywise series?”

The girl frowned again, “Been what?”

Stiles held up his hand and ducked down another aisle, returning in a flurry with the first book in the series in hand. He offered it to the girl and gave her time to inspect both front and back covers, including the blurb.

“This Bean guy sounds just like his type.” She gave a small smile and Stiles had a feeling it was a rare sight he was beholding. 

He also had to fight against the blush that was probably forming when he realised he was about to admit that he related way too much to Bean. This girl was super pretty, if not also intimidating, and Stiles was sure her brother would be too. And based on her description, her brother sounded like someone Stiles would swoon over. Stating he was like the lead character in the novel who was apparently her brother's type was way too forward. 

“Awesome! I’ll ring it up for you.” Stiles took the book back and headed over to the counter, slipping the store’s bookmark that doubled as marketing for his blog inside the front cover.

Hope you liked this snippet! Tagging some mutuals since I'm not sure who has been writing lately or not. No pressure of course :) @fairytales-and-folklore @breakingjen @elisela @haletostilinski

[thesmollestsnek]

Death echoes

So a while ago, i found this dp x dc post that had a really interesting lore headcanon for Danny’s ghostly wail. Idk if I’ll be able to find it again, I’ll link it here if I do, but essentially it posited that every ghost has something called a “death echo”, which is an ability unique to them based heavily on their deaths. These echoes are the most powerful move in a ghost’s moveset, but they’re also extremely volatile and draining, typically damaging the ghost in some way when used, with Danny’s being his Wail because he died screaming. The original post then went on to some really cool halfa!Jason ideas based on these death echoes, but for this lil snippet with an extremely long intro I’d like to focus on Danny a bit more.

Edit: Apparently I may have extrapolated a lot of the actual lore behind these death echos myself? The inspiration post was a lot longer in my memories. Or I might've mushed multiple posts into one mental box and then forgot lol. So a lot of the actual detail from this point on is seemingly mostly original material? I think? Idk man, sometimes my brain spits out information without giving me any clues as to where it got that information. Anyway, this post got kinda long and since I'm... decently sure this is where I shifted from summarizing @ailithnight's post to writing all my own thoughts I figured here would be a good place to throw the cut lol.

So! with all of the context-for-the-context out of the way, let’s move on to the actual context for what I’m writing cause I can’t be bothered with writing an intro XD

Essentially, this is an au where Danny is an established member of the Justice League, or maybe one of the teen hero teams? I’m a slut for eternal teenager Danny, but maybe he’s enough of a powerhouse to be on the main team despite him both looking and acting like the dumbass fourteen year old he died as. Either way, he’s on a League/League-sanctioned mission and things go bad. Like, everyone-almost-dies bad. And so as a final desperation attack, Danny uses his Wail, a power he’s never told anyone on the league he even has. And it works, and they make it out, but after the fact everyone has. Questions. And because in this au death echoes are deeply personal, Danny dodges those questions, but the league coughbatmancough isn’t satisfied with that. So they push for answers. Answers Danny’s not willing to give, because. In my mind death echoes aren’t just based on how a person died, but also their experience of that death. What their last thoughts were. When Danny died the only thing that he could process beyond just an all-encompassing painpainpainpainpain was the sound of someone screaming. His screaming. And so his death echo is the sound of a fourteen year old child screaming in deathly pain and terror weaponized, which definitely gave the league Even More Questions than they would’ve had already. Which finally brings us to the actual snippet, which is a conversation between John Constantine, who was brought in for his experience with the supernatural once it became clear Danny wasn’t going to talk, and Danny himself. 

~~~~~~~

“So, kid. Batsy tells me you’ve been hiding some of your abilities, wanna tell me what's up with that? Call it an occultist's intuition, but somethin’ tells me you’re not just being stubborn for the hell of it.”

“It’s... complicated. And not anyone’s business, either!”

“Kid...”

“Why does it even matter?! It’s not something I want to or am even able to do on a regular basis! I saved the mission, can’t they just accept that and move on???”

Sighing, Constantine reached up to start massaging his brow. “Kid, you and I both know that ain’t gonna be enough. Now I know that some things are better left alone, but the rest of these idiots? They can’t accept that, Batsy especially. That man’s never left bloody well enough alone in his life”

He looked up just in time to see the otherworldly teen shrink into himself, looking every bit the child he was. “I know but... why? Why do they need to keep asking questions? And why do they only ask the ones that hurt to answer?”

A sharp glance. “The fuck kinda questions are they asking? Batman was speaking in more grunt than word, so I didn’t really catch all the details of what this power you’re supposedly hiding even is.”

Phantom shrinks even more into himself at that, and responds in a voice so small it’s more sigh than speech. “I... I can scream. And it breaks things and pushes people back. But it, it sounds. Bad. And it brings up bad memories and I don’t like to do it or listentoitoreventhinkaboutitandtheywon’tletmeforgetand-”

“Breathe kid. I know you don’t need to but just take a deep breath with me. Don’t you go getting lost in your own head on me now., Constantine reassured the kid automatically, the sheer hopelessness prompting action long before the words themselves could be understood. Then the rest of him caught up, and he had to pause. Looked up at the kid, saw just how distressed he was. A picture was starting to form in the back of his head, and Constantine didn’t like what he saw one bit. A last-resort power that the normally open Phantom was strangely reticent about. A scream so horrible sounding the rest of the league would not to stop asking questions about it. Terrible memories to match said scream. And one truly miserable child who couldn’t bear to even think about any of it. 

“Phantom... is that your Echo? Screaming?”

A miserable nod is his only response, the tears that had been welling up in the kid’s eyes finally starting to fall. Cursing softly to himself, Constantine stood to leave, bracing himself for the Bat’s inevitable questioning. “Well then you just take all the time you need love, and leave the rest to me. I’ll make sure the rest of those idiots know not to ask you about this ever again.”  And with that Constantine turned and strode towards the door, leaving the quietly sobbing child to collect himself in privacy.

~~~~~

I had a whole-ass lore dump conversation between Constantine and Batman planned here, explaining how death echoes are deeply personal, and asking about one is a taboo on par with, potentially even worse than, asking a ghost about their death outright. Because they are formed from an amalgamation of how a ghost died, their last thoughts, and their final emotions, in some ways asking a ghost about their Echo is like asking them to describe their death in painstaking detail. But uhhh... inspiration bug left. So yea. Side note, I’d like to apologize if my depiction of Constantine’s accent was Bad, I’m but a lowly USAmerican whose only exposure to British accents is through tv ^-^’

[monsoon-of-art]

another small megamer writing snippet, again, to try and shake off the writing dust. This one is very sweet, you've been warned

Roll pushed open the door to the Medical Room, then leaned back to grab the handle of her little doctor kit with her teeth before wiggling inside.

Rock was out at sea, trying to calm their rampaging brothers, and Dad was out there with him, leaving Roll all alone in the lab.

Well. Not quite alone.

No, one of her brothers was in the Medical Room, in the very very large tank pressed up against the back wall.

She remembered Dad and a few of his drones carrying him in. Dad was frantic, seeing his son injured and unresponsive. Saying that the colors were dull and how his scales were starting to flake away.

(Roll was just surprised at how large her brother was….she knew Rock and herself weren't very big, but seeing him from the safety of her small tank, and how he barely fit through the door …was she going to grow up to be that big one day?)

Dad couldn't stay long. He wanted to, but the others needed him and Rock, so he gave Roll a kiss on the forehead and ran out the door.

She didn't have Rock’s copy ability. Nor did she have his bravery. But Roll wasn't about to sit around and do nothing.

So she dragged in her little doctor kit into the Medical Room, staring at the large tank and the grey lump inside. Said lump was connected to a plethora of wires and tubes, a faint heart monitor beeping somewhere in the room.

Roll did not share her twin’s dislike of the Medical Room. In all honesty, she found it rather fascinating. All of these devices had a purpose, the purpose of making others feel better. Maybe she could learn how they worked, and she could make others better too!

Roll pressed her cheek against the glass, looking at the flowing orange fins and the red scales running down his body. She thought back to pictures Dad had shown her of her older brothers. If memory served…

“You’re…DLN-006? No, 007? Fire?”

The lump stirred, emitting a low, mournful whine.

“Oh, sorry!” she whispered. “One second-”

Roll briefly left the tank, grabbing some boxes and whatever was laying around the room to build a rough staircase. Once completed, she grabbed her little kit and clambered up, splashing inside the tank with little grace.

Immediately she could practically taste all the medicine that had been mixed into the water. Fire must be very sick, more than she anticipated. Could she even help?

No, she had to try.

Swimming down, she took a moment just to look. Roll was meeting one of her big brothers for the first time…ever! She and Rock had been so excited to meet them, she just didn’t expect it to be like…this.

With an excited trill, she nuzzled against his arm. (He was so warm!)

Fire blearily cracked open an eye, gazing in her general direction.

Roll beamed at this. “Hi! Hi hi!! I'm Roll! I'm your little sister! It's so nice to finally meet you!”

All she got in reply was an ear twitch. His gaze seemed distant, and overall he just looked so…so tired. 

“I’ll make you feel better. I promise.” She said, voice full of determination as she nuzzled his arm once more.

While hesitant to leave his side, Roll swam around to see if he had any lingering injuries. And he did, but they were already bandaged and covered with gauze. So much for using her little doctor kit here.

She tried to think of what Dad did whenever she or Rock got sick. Unfortunately, she wasn’t allowed to use the stove, so making her brother some soup wasn’t an option.

(Even though she totally could. She could totally make soup if Dad would let her. And she'd be so good at it.)

Roll thought harder, thinking of what else they did when someone fell ill. Soup, rest, making them comfy…

Wait. She knew what to do!

She swam back, a soft purr in her throat as she wiggled a bit closer to him, settling on his back. Once settled, she nuzzled her cheek against his back, starting to gently knead on him.

She was trying not to be rough, and trying not to use her claws.

Roll couldn't make him soup, or bring him toys, or bandage him up more than he already was. But she could try to make him comfy, try and show he was safe and loved and cared for. That she was right here, and that he wasn't alone.

After a minute of her purring as much as she could, she felt Fire stir underneath her paws. He met her purring with a deep rumbling from his chest, the tension and stress slowly leaving him.

It was working! It was working!! Roll could feel him relaxing, and sure he still seemed tired, but at least he was finally settling down-

Something tugged at her tail. Then tugged harder. Then she was dragged off his back and onto the tank floor.

Fire had grabbed her by the tail, and was now staring at her with a half-exhausted, half-apologetic expression. With a half-hearted chuff, he brought her close again, almost tucking her under his chin.

Then, he sighed, satisfied.

Roll had no idea how to react to any of this. She knew (hoped anyway) that Fire wouldn’t hurt her. But now here she was, curled up under him. Was this normal? Was this because he felt sick?

Fire started to rumble-purr again, and she could practically feel it in her bones with her so close to his throat and chest now.

Was he…trying to comfort her now?

…Because it was kinda working?

Something deep down reassured her that this was nice. This was good, even. Fire was warm and would keep her safe, his rumbling purr lulling her into a relaxed doze.

And as she wiggled closer, nuzzling against his chin and closing her eyes, she purred with him.

[revelboo]

Rambles/ clarification of my nonsense

• I just wanted to go ahead and clarify something before you guys make the connection between the TF One Megatron fic and the latest Thundercracker bit and start asking. First off, I have a fated mate series I write. I do love that trope, but I have an issue with how it’s handled sometimes so I will gently poke fun at it from time to time.

• I don’t like the insta-love eyes meeting across a room and falling hopelessly in love that some novels incorporate. I prefer love/affection to be earned over time through actions. Insta-love always comes across to me as losing a piece of yourself to another person, losing free will. Instant attraction or lust? I can work with that, tie it to a sense of belonging that keeps dragging you into that person’s gravity whether you want to be there or not. Just because it’s fated doesn’t mean it’s perfect or easy. I want the characters to clash, to fight that sense of need and maybe even resent that bond at first. Slowly building up trust and getting to know each other.

• If I write more TF One characters, I’ll probably use fated mates in that universe because I’m a gremlin and I like writing conflict. I wouldn’t mind writing that version of Starscream, B127, or Optimus Prime at some point.

• This blog started as a venting space. I needed to work on manuscripts, but I was so burnt out and my usual tactic of just swapping to a different project wasn’t working. I’d open the documents and just stare at the screen in dread. So, I wrote a silly little Starscream snippet, because I used to write fanfiction on FFN years ago under a different handle. And I missed writing silly, self indulgent nonsense that didn’t have to be perfect. The quick bullet point snippets I do are actually how I quickly get scenes down to expand later.

• I only meant to make a few characters and scenarios and then go back and start fleshing them out like a properly formatted story. Then you guys started asking questions, asking about different characters. So I just kept going, because I honestly missed writing for fun, for myself. Nothing serious, just telling a story to amuse myself. I needed an outlet for the stress and this is it.

• So, thank you guys so much. I’ll keep these going as long as folks want to read them, because I really did miss the Transformers community. There’s a sense that when you swap to professionally writing, you’re not supposed to keep doing the fanfiction stuff. You’re supposed to grow up and just write novels, nothing else. And that’s why I stopped ten years ago, but this makes me happy. I can do both and it’s not like I follow normal writing rules anyway. I’ve been told my writing can be too visceral, too much like a stream of consciousness instead of a literary work. That used to bother me, but that ship’s not only sailed, it caught on fire and sank with no survivors. Never been great at following rules anyway.

• And maybe someone else needs to hear that. You don’t have to stop what you enjoy because it’s ’unprofessional.’ Keep it separate, but keep doing it if it makes you happy. It shouldn’t be a trade off.

[its-all-papaya]

okay for the prompt ask game: landoscar, the most cliche thing: only one bed, and getting together - go!

only one bedddd MY LOVE. I ADORE making the boys CUDDLE.

tell me what you wish I'd write

I will set the scene: Lando and Oscar are in their second year as teammates, now, and they’re proper friends, right? Much closer than they were the year before. Time to…. meet the family?

snippet enclosed at the end under the break just fyi :,)

Meddling Nicole. We know now that she will canon throw her son under the bus and expose him for a little laugh. She also knows that Oscar has been maybe a little obsessed with Lando for years, and getting to know him as a teammate has not dulled Lando’s shine for Oscar at all. He’s actually worse. Tries to be really lowkey about it, not bringing up Lando too often, only mentioning him when he feels it’s relevant, but Nicole can tell by the change in his voice when he talks about Lando, the way he edges Lando into conversations he doesn’t really NEED to be in. Anyway. A few weeks ahead of the Australian GP she’s on a call with Oscar and is like “You should bring Lando round when he’s here, honey. Have him stay a night, we’d love to meet him properly.” And Oscar is like… oh. uh. Yeah. Sure.

In what world is Lando going to say no to Oscar on that when Oscar’s got his soft Lando Smile on and he’s like “just for a night, my mom really wants you to”?

The day after the race perhaps? Because Lando podiums and Carlos wins so they go out and Lando is perhaps a little hungover and cranky when he arrives, but immediately goes soft for Oscar. He’s headachy and tired and reaches for Osc as soon as he’s in the doorway, wrapping his free arm around Oscar’s back and resting in the hug for a long, long second. They’re speaking in soft little private voices to one another and giggling and Oscar is smiling his hopeless, besotted smile, and Lando’s eyes are sparkling even through the hangover exhaustion. And then “Lando, so glad you could make it!” and they spring apart and Lando rubs at his cheek with his palm and Oscar rolls his eyes at his mum and gives Lando a little squeeze around the wrist as apology.

“Let me take your bags, Oscar can show you around a bit and you can get some lunch in you.”

They’d hang out all day, maybe with Oscar’s sisters (who love Lando obviously bc they can all team up on Oscar together), perhaps kicking around outside or whatever.

Dinner has Meet the Family (tm) vibes where Oscar’s parents are quizzing Lando about his own family and racing and how Oscar is at work. And maybe there’s some food Lando doesn’t eat and he feels really bad and is stressed but Oscar is like “you don’t have to eat that. Mum, I told you Lando doesn’t eat seafood.” Very Romantic. Very Domestic.

Afterwards, they all convene in the living room to play a game or something and Lando doesn’t understand the rules and doesn’t have the attention span to learn so he’s like “I’ll just be on a team with Oscar.” Except he’s really just leaning into Oscar’s side, looking at the cards but mostly just Oscar’s hands, and watching Oscar play. Eventually he kind of catches the gist and makes a suggestion about something right at Oscar’s ear, lips brushing skin, and the move… works? And Oscar is like “thanks, mate” all soft and Lando is like “I’d say we make pretty good teammates, yeah? someone should hire us that way” and yawns and smirks at the way it makes everyone giggle.

Eventually Lando starts nodding off against Osc’s shoulder, everyone’s talking and laughter warm around him. After it sticks, Lando’s cheek smushed against Oscar’s bicep, Oscar’s hand curled around Lando’s knee, Nicole goes “you should take that one to bed, honey, he looks exhausted.” And Oscar is like… simply why would you phrase it like that? but “okay, is he staying in the guest room?” and Nicole is like “oh! did I not tell you? we’ve got your grandmother there. huh. could have sworn I told you this. I figured Lando could just bunk with you, hope that’s alright!” and Oscar is like... well. I’m not going to make him sleep on the COUCH 24 hours after a race.

So he wakes Lando up sooooo gently and Lando blinks soft and sleepy and a little frowny because he was cozy there, actually. And everyone else feels like they’re intruding, as is prone to happen around Lando and Oscar.

Oscar apologetic explaining the situation, but Lando just shrugs and stretches and follows him up the stairs, because it won’t be the first time he’s fallen asleep in the same bed as a teammate, probably.

Oscar’s childhood bedroom hasn’t changed much since he left for boarding school, and Lando perks up once they get there so he can poke fun of Oscar about the posters and the knickknacks on his desk. And Oscar’s blushy and laughing and a little defensive, but mostly just fond fond fond having Lando in this part of his life.

They brush their teeth side by side, elbows knocking, and it’s… so domestic. Overwhelming. Oscar is scared of how easily they move around each other, Lando’s hand on the small of his back as he sneaks by to grab his face wash from the bedroom where he’d forgotten it, Oscar handing over a towel to dry Lando’s face before Lando can even ask.

Oscar’s stressed that it’s going to be awkward when it comes time to actually get in bed, but Lando just tucks himself in against the wall and curls up on Oscar’s pillow. Oscar dilly dallies a bit, but Lando huffs and pats the bed and goes “Oscar,” drawing out the last syllable, “turn off the light and come to bed, I’m tired.”

Which. Does THINGS to Oscar. But Lando asked nicely, so he flips the switch and crawls in next to Lando.

They don’t touch at first. And Oscar’s bed is only a full, so it’s like… intentional. And that lasts a few minutes. But Lando whines and pats at Oscar’s side until Oscar says “what“ and Lando’s eyes are big and soft even in the dark and he says “‘m not very comfy” with a small little smile and Oscar is… only a man. So he lifts his arm up and lets Lando crawl happily under and settle against his chest with a contented sigh. And from there it’s easy to pet Lando’s hair and let Lando practically purr into his chest about it. SOFT. CUDDLY.

Lando falls asleep almost immediately because he’s still recovering from the night before. Oscar watches his eyelashes flutter prettily and toys with his curls and strokes the side of his cheek and just. Yearns. Because Lando fits so easily here in Oscar’s life. Everything felt so natural and right. Feels even more right now, with Lando in his bed, in his arms. So Oscar presses a little self-indulgent kiss to Lando’s forehead. Except the skin wrinkles beneath his lips and Lando’s fingers flex where they’re tucked against Oscar’s waist. Lando’s eyes crack open and he looks. so! soft! but Oscar’s heart is racing because he just really, really thought Lando was fast asleep.

SNIPPET‼️

Lando doesn’t look mad, but he doesn’t really look anything discernible at all in the dim light filtering through Oscar's window. Mostly he just looks sleepy. From a distance, Oscar hears the familiar sound of the air-con kicking on.

“‘s nice,” Lando says after too long, eyes fluttering back closed. There's a little smile turning the corners of his lips up and his nose twitches a little where it's rested above the collar of Oscar's loose pajama shirt. He doesn't normally wear one, but he'd figured, given the circumstances, that it would be best to.

Emboldened again, Oscar places another light kiss, just to the left of the first. Lando's smile grows with it, and he turns his face into Oscar's chest, like he's bashful about it. Oscar wonders, if he turned his bedside lamp on, whether Lando's cheeks would be pink with his attention.

"Keep going," Lando says. Mostly breath, eyes still shut.

"Yeah?" Oscar's not sure what they're doing, where they're going with it, but it's been 18 months and he hasn't learned how to say no to Lando yet, so he puts his lips next to Lando's eyebrow, on the bridge of his nose. He pauses after that, and when he breathes in, he swears he can taste his own toothpaste on Lando's exhale.

"Os-car," Lando sing-songs. Oscar doesn't think it's fair, how Lando gets to hide behind his eyelids while they do this. Whatever it is.

"Lando," he gives Lando a scratch between the shoulder blades, "look at me."

It's bolder than he normally is, bolder than he feels, still, but it gets Lando to crack his eyes open. Lando's still smiling, but it's a little tighter again.

Oscar's heart is beating hard. He remembers suddenly, absurdly out of place, that he'd lost his virginity in this bed. He thinks that was easier.

"Are we doing this?"

Lando's fingers twitch at his side. Oscar can't tell whether they're curling into his side or into Lando's own palm.

"I mean," he's at least properly awake again, "yeah. If you want to. I want to."

Oscar's pulse hasn't slowed down. It feels like a final flying lap, one shot to get everything just right.

"I want to," Oscar confirms, "But not just to do it."

"Like how?" Lando says. He props himself up on his arm so he's looking down at Oscar. Oscar's hand falls to the small of his back. Keeping him close.

"Like not just to kiss, or whatever. Like I want to because I like you. And you're important to me. So I don't want to make things weird if it's not like that for you."

Something changes in Lando's gaze, and Oscar thinks it should probably be a look he hasn't seen before, but instead it's familiar, the way it settles over both of them.

"Os-car," Lando says in that same tone from before, "I'm in your fucking twin bed. Your sisters added me to a group chat while you were at the bathroom this afternoon. I learned a card game for you." He lifts his free hand to run a thumb under Oscar's eye, "It's weirder that I've done all that before we got here."

Oscar thinks that's a yes, but he has to be sure, so he catches Lando's fingers in his hand and brushes his lips over them.

"So?" Oscar says.

"So," says Lando, "your mum is going to be so happy when you tell her."

Like qualifying on pole. Like coming home. Lando kisses him.

And then every member of Oscar's family teases them endlessly and it's sooooo fluffy and cute and domestic xoxo the end

[mythmerth]

from my February and March readings, I’ve collected a few more merlin fic recs for the people…

ive been primarily rereading in March so I’d have to change up the style anyways xoxo here’s both!

For favorite long (80k+) fic I’m absolutely choosing The Scroll and the Sword by Elizabeth. The modern-with-magic and haters-to-maybe-you’re-not-bad-shit-I’m-in-love adventure of it all, I was thoroughly enjoying this one from start to finish. The plot hooks you, the romance gets you kicking and screaming, what else is needed ykwim. It also captures the brilliant merthur idiocy, really a gem!

For favorite mid length (30k-80k) fic I’m going with A Language With No Words by neptunesyellowsands! It’s a really great canon era post finale Arthur survives fic. The gradual acceptance of magic and grappling arthur does is just *chefs kiss*. It also has a sequel which was really great as well- just a really enjoyable series!

For favorite short fic (<30k) I’ll choose And He’s Still Left With His Hands by witchmd13! It was so beautifully written and I love the detail of focusing on hands in various scenarios throughout the story. It’s canon era, very soft and such a pleasant read plspsls check it out

since I’ve been rereading so much, I’m gonna do a shorter list of rapid fire novel reads and then another one of favorite rereads~

novel-

At the end of the world by b92morgan was a unique take on omegaverse soulmatism with a lot of lore and plot to back it up. not really canon era, not really modern, somewhere in the middle!

If you like your ouchie fucked up fics, Shackled by Obsessionist may fit the bill. It’s canon era and painful and pay attention to the tags cause it definitely keeps getting worse before it gets better, but still a good read!

rereads-

Following the beast by Footloose is following the fucked up trend in a different way. you just don’t get this kind of fucked up BAMF merthur often, morality is a bit lost here. Modern era with lots going on, and watch the tags cause even though Arthur’s the actual antichrist and earns the title in every respect he still has quite the age gap with merlin

My way home is through you by evaelisaa and Leandra is another great modern-turned-canon era fic. I love the transformation merlin especially goes through as he realizes where he belongs. the first kiss scene gets me screaming every time

The Dragon Rises by Footloose is an all-time favorite. It scratches the canon era itch but technically isn’t. Unique plot, incredible lore, the merthur in it is pure excellence, I’d recommend it to damn near anyone

Though Love Like Light Can Flee by horsecrazy is a wonderful modern era read. like these idiots, absolutely incredible the way they dance around each other Ten Million stars out of five

that’s it for now! sorry for the format switch but I hope it still works <3 god I’ve been busy and offline and this has been in my drafts but tehe I’m still hereeee!

psa I’ve been getting the itch to write again and it’s been distracting me like crazy… if I posted snippets of original work would that be welcome? 👀 let me know! I love to do more writing too but it slows down my reading… hmmm…

see you later for next months lists!!!

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