#maybe i'll write a fic about it at some point. we'll see

[synonymroll648]

deep down in my soul, i know that if sophie ever introduced keefe and fitz to them, keefe would want to play uno immediately and fitz would want to play chess and sophie would look at their puppy eyes and just. relent. give in. and go screw it, i’ll play you both at the same time. and then she would either destroy them both, die of panic because brains aren’t designed to multitask well, or both. and then her boys would want to swap games over and over and she’d indulge them just for one night in a pillow fort with all their stuffed animals or something

[springwitch26]

hots for teacher (part 2) (melissa schemmenti x fem!reader)

part 1

summary: you've been infatuated with melissa schemmenti ever since you worked under her as a student teacher. what will happen when you meet again a few years later? (part 2: what happens)

warnings: smut, intensely NSFW, praise kink, age gap, squirting, d/s vibes, inexperienced!reader, minors and men please don't touch this post

notes: ask and you shall receive, beauties! thank you for all the love on part 1, it's kinda surreal to be writing my own fics but also super liberating. any feedback is welcome. idk when i'll write again but i may or may not have another little nsfw draft with a more... punishing... interpretation of mel so we'll see! also, feel free to send me asks because i'm lonely. this one goes out to whoever said melissa schemmenti loves sluts, 'cause yeah she does.

the car ride back to melissa's place felt like it would never end. you crossed your legs when you first got into the passenger seat--partly out of habit and partly to get some friction on your aching core--and were quickly reprimanded.

"tsk tsk, baby. guess i'll have to teach you manners, too. keep those pretty thighs apart for me, all the way home. you're gonna wait patiently until i get my hands on you," melissa scolded.

you whined incoherently, and she responded with a dangerous laugh. the trip was short but unbearable. she had one hand on the steering wheel, while the other drew lazy patterns on your inner thigh. you squirmed and writhed, even moaned quietly, but she remained nonchalant.

at one point, when her fingers drew oh-so close to where you needed them most, your thighs snapped shut of their own accord.

"c'mon, legs open," was all she said in response. she tried to act casual, but you could tell from her excited half-smile that she was enjoying this game more than she let on.

as soon as you got in the door, she was on you. you barely had the focus to take in your surroundings as she lavished you with kisses, working her way across your lips and face before burying herself in your neck. her house was cozy and tastefully decorated with gentle lighting. in the soft glow, her slightly disheveled hair and lustful eyes were a sight you'd never forget.

"is there anyone--oh!" you squealed as her fingers began to trace circles on your nipples through your dress. "is there anyone else here?"

"sensitive, huh?" she teased, smirking down at you. "and no, it's just me tonight."

before you had time to consider what that last word implied, she picked you up and effortlessly whisked you to her bedroom. you were dazzled by the sight of her private space--it was simple yet beautiful, adorned with shades of green and twinkling lights. you didn't expect this level of whimsy from her, and it somehow made her even sexier.

she laid you on the bed carefully, reverently. "god, look at you." she whispered, sending shivers down your spine as she positioned herself on top of you and returned to your lips.

by now you were painfully needy from all her teasing, and you just needed her to fuck you senseless. you tried to convey that with your impatient noises, but it seemed the older woman had other plans. she pulled away from your lips to take in your flushed, desperate face.

"soon, sweetheart, soon. i know you're so worked up, but i plan to make this last."

you hummed in acknowledgment, turning your attention to the buttons of her shirt. you thought maybe if you got her a bit more riled up, she would be less inclined to take her time.

melissa groaned, feeling your delicate fingers ghost over her chest, but shook her head in disapproval. she removed your hands from her shirt, grabbing your wrists with surprising force. "i'm not taking my clothes off yet. i'm in charge, and you need to learn patience."

you gave her your best pout, but you knew she wouldn't budge. this was about power, not patience. she wanted to be clothed, composed and in control while you lay naked and vulnerable underneath her.

she started to pull at the fabric of your dress. you lifted your hips, and in one fluid motion, she slipped it over your head and off of you. it was an expert move, and you shivered at the idea that she had done this many times before.

when she saw your body, she paused for a moment, her mouth slightly open and her pupils dilated. "no bra?" she asked under her breath, not looking for an answer. "you're so soft in my hands..." she mused as her hands massaged your breasts. her fingers moved to pinch and rub over your nipples.

you moaned, bucking your hips upward and seeking more contact. she took the hint and directed her attention to your core.

"nice panties, by the way," she said with a cocky laugh, tugging playfully at the soaked pink lace. "who knew little miss gothic had a colorful side?"

"please, mel, no more teasing, i need you so bad," was all you could manage.

"okay, baby, let's get these off ya." she hooked her fingers through your panties and you lifted your hips, allowing her to drag them off. she folded them neatly and tucked them into her front pocket. something cutesy to remind her of you, wet and pliant under her touch.

"mmm, such a messy girl. you must feel so embarrassed, all spread out and naked for me while i'm fully clothed, playin' with you."

you could only whimper and whine, helplessly turned on by her words but pinned to the bed and unable to move. she cooed at you and took pity, moving down your body to get closer to your core.

she placed her hands once again on the insides of your thighs, gently pulling them apart and revealing your glistening pussy. her breath stuttered upon seeing the wetness covering your core and thighs.

"jesus, hon, you're dripping. you're just aching for me, aren't ya? need me to make you feel good?"

"yes!" you finally exclaimed, regaining your voice. "yes, please, melissa, please touch me, i need you," you begged.

"well, since you asked so nicely..." she gave you a smirk and trailed a finger between your puffy lips, gathering the wetness there.

by this point you were writhing all over the bed, so she had to pin your legs down with her knees. neither of you minded, though. you enjoyed feeling completely at her mercy, and she enjoyed watching you squirm under her.

finally, after an eternity of torture, she gave in, slipping a finger into you with ease and rubbing gentle circles over your clit.

"so tight, fuck," she muttered to herself as she began to move inside you, transfixed by the feeling of you around her.

"feels so good, ohhh..." you mewled as her finger quickly found a rhythm, pumping forcefully and curling at your most sensitive spots.

"you're taking me so well, baby, my brave girl," she soothed, relishing in her ability to draw such pathetic sounds from you. "can you handle one more?"

you nodded frantically, almost too lost in the haze of pleasure to hear her.

she grinned and pushed another finger inside you, making you cry out. you were relatively inexperienced, so the stretch was a bit painful at first, but you were soon overcome by the bliss of feeling so full.

"that's new, huh? poor baby, can barely take two fingers," her thrusts got rougher, as if she was trying to break you. "don't whine now, you wanted this."

you were overwhelmed with pleasure and the slight pain of the intrusion. her fingers were long, nimble and skilled, and she seemed to know all the right spots and rhythms to make you see stars. her fingers stroked your clit with more pressure now, making you shake and moan uncontrollably. it was almost too much. you wanted to scream, but you could only produce pathetic little whimpers of "ah, ah, ah!"

she was clearly aware of what she was doing, and she revelled in your pleasure. she would ease up, return to a gentler pace, and then thrust hard into your g-spot just to hear your cries and gasps. she longed to see you lose control.

"that's a good girl, keep takin' my fingers just like that. you're close, aren't you baby? let's see how long you can last against me," she said, her voice deep and her smile mischievous. there was a competitive edge to her words, like making you fall apart was some kind of victory to her.

suddenly she pulled away completely, and you nearly sobbed. your hips bucked up into nothing. your helpless whimpers were music to the older woman's ears, and she snickered to herself as she moved down your body.

for a moment, there was silence. you stared at her, silently pleading for her touch. she cocked her head at you and raised an eyebrow, silently asking you: are you ready? you nodded intently. you weren't sure what she was going to do to you, but you sure as hell wanted to find out.

before you even had the chance to brace yourself, she was thrusting two fingers roughly inside you again, rubbing hard at that spongy spot. for the final blow, melissa leaned down and attached her lips to your clit, sucking harshly.

"not yet, sweetheart. stay with me," she said, grinning from ear to ear as she felt your walls flutter and clench around her.

with her free hand, she reached up and pressed softly on your lower abdomen. between that, the punishing thrusts, and the hot pressure on your clit, you couldn't take it anymore. the sensations overwhelmed you. the world went blank, and all you could feel was warmth. you swam through oceans of white-hot ecstasy, riding wave after wave of pleasure. and melissa was right there, coaxing you through heaven's gates.

melissa's thumbs rubbed soothing circles into your outer thighs, bringing you back down to earth. "come back to me," she whispered sweetly. you opened your eyes.

"there she is," she said, her eyes sparkling with relief.

she gave you a giddy smile and you noticed the wetness all over her face... and fingers... and sheets. you couldn't help but feel embarrassed.

melissa must have picked up on this, as she took hold of your hand and reassured you. "don't be embarrassed, angel. that was probably the hottest thing i've ever seen." she laid down next to you as she spoke.

you hummed and buried your face in the crook of her neck. she was warm and smelled like cinnamon.

"did you know you could do that, hon?" she asked.

"yeah," you giggled, still dazed. "but i didn't know you could do that."

"i'm fulla surprises, kid," she laughed, stroking your hair. "let me run us a bath, and then we'll see what kind of surprises you've got in you."

she carried you bridal-style to the bathtub, and you relaxed into the bliss. feeling the warmth of her arms around your frame. drowning in her.

[scarrletmoon]

About Powder Blue

This is going to be long. There are going to be discussions of suicide and trauma. This is going to be a bit of a jumbled mess because I can't tell a linear story to save my life. Don't feel like you need to read this, now or ever.

If you're wondering what the issues with PB were, and looking for what's next, read the indented text and skip the rest if you want!

I've had a bit of a...tumultuous relationship with the OFMD fandom. I've made close friends and lost them, made even closer friends who've very patiently reminded me of my worth when I needed that. I'm at a point where I'm still struggling, but I'm getting better. I'm still working on not being afraid. It's a bit of an uphill battle, but I'm still pushing my little boulder. I'm not alone this time, which is nice.

I entered the fandom as a nobody. I had almost 50 fics on AO3 and two had mildly popped off while I wasn't looking, but I wasn't really known for anything. I was a fandom ghost, posting my little fanfics and sharing them with the world because I just enjoyed the characters so much. Like a lot of people, I dreamed of being known for something. I thought that'd be neat.

I'm still in a state of shock and confusion that I've written anything in the past 2 years that people remember and even love. It's weird to be in a place where I never imagined myself to be. I can't stress enough how much I did not write explicit fic before this fandom; in high school, I would've welcomed a porn ban. I was afraid of my own sexuality, convinced it was some sort of monster I had to control. Convinced I was dirty. To other people my age, I was a prude, naive and childish for not being comfortable with it. So I feel for people who lash out now, who insist that attraction is actually fetishization, that if we set enough rules, maybe if we resist temptation, we'll be saved. I see you, and I feel for you. I personally don't think that's a healthy way to live, but if you'd told me that 2 years ago, I would've cussed you out. It's really a realization you have to come to (or not) on your own terms.

Anyway.

I know it's tacky to talk about your own success but it doesn't feel real. I go back and forth, reading other people's work -- and my god, there's some unbelievable talent in this fandom -- and thinking "shit, why would anyone read anything I've written? My stories are kindergarten finger paintings next to museum masterpieces". I am learning, slowly -- very slowly -- that I can't bully myself into a shape I like better. I'll never abuse myself into the kind of writer I think I want to be.

The first chapter of Powder Blue was written on a random day of the week after work. I was in a server -- the first fandom server I'd properly joined and talked in, watching a convo about how funnyt it would be for Ed to be a middle aged sugar baby -- when I pulled out my laptop and wrote for an hour and then posted that chapter to the server. I hadn't written for five years before OFMD. I had never finished a multi chapter fic. I posted that chapter and went to make dinner, and assumed the Google Docs link would get lost in that channel after a few likes.

That's not what happened.

The next few months were...a lot. My 7 year old Twitter account blew up from about 200 followers to 1000 in a matter of months. I was misinterpreted half a dozen times. Suddenly, people knew who I was and had Opinions. Some of those Opinions were Not Nice. I was told to grow a thick skin and get over it. So I figured my extreme reactions -- physical shaking, intense fear, a spiking heart rate, like I was being chased -- were just me being weak. I thought if I just sucked it up and laughed it off, it'd stop affecting me.

Turns out RSD is real and not an excuse I was using to be a baby, and it literally didn't get better until I was medicated! Wild

(This -- "I'm just overreacting and everyone else is secretly handling it better" -- has been a pretty consistent pattern my entire life, so figuring out I'm actually AuDHD has been mindblowing. If you've been wondering why you're so weak your whole life, I've got some screening tests you might be interested in).

Anyway my point is, a few things happened over the course of 2023 that brought me to a level of emotional pain I've never experienced.

At the start of the year, I was taking a self imposed internet break, after being forced to apologize for a tweet thread about Izzy, where I'd made the mistake of suggesting that fans of his should consider thinking about why they enjoy his character, but to only do this if they wanted to and ignore me if they didn't. This was taken as me being a hypocrite, and accusing Izzy fans of being terrible people. I apologized, vowed to never mention him again, and left Twitter for a month. Around the same time, a few things in a very close friend group went very wrong. I assumed it was entirely my fault for misbehaving, picked myself up, and tried to punish myself into a shape that would be acceptable for other people.

It didn't work.

Since I was now marked as an anti-Izzy bully, I couldn't say anything -- either on Twitter or in private -- that wouldn't be interpreted as me trying to start fights, as me being passive aggressive, as me trying to send covert messages for others to decipher so they could come and grovel for my forgiveness. Some of this is my fault -- it took a long time to learn than my private locked Twitter account isn't a diary. it took even longer for me to learn that maybe the people I was hanging out with weren't my people.

During all of this, I was posting Powder Blue after months of tears, pain, heartbreak, frustration and stress. I still don't understand why people write books for work or FUN. It was the most horrific experience of my life. It was valuable and so rewarding but jesus christ did writing PB take a lot out of me.

So as I felt less connected to my friends, as I was trying to hide how I felt because I thought I didn't deserve to be upset about anything (everything is always my fault, you see, and if I just behaved better, these things wouldn't happen to me), someone came to me and said they'd noticed some issues with Powder Blue. I'll refer to this person as the reader.

I was more than happy to hear them out. And it's true that I made some mistakes. The environment that I published PB in was not the one that I wrote it in. I didn't read any other sugar daddy/sex work fics as I was working on PB. PB was never a reaction to those fics. But because of those stories, which had handled things is harmful ways, there was suddenly a responsibility I'd never expected to have. I've never done sex work, I've just spent a lot of time listening to sex workers and trying to understand the legislation and environment as much as I can as a lay person. And since I don't have a personal experience with sex work, I shared my finished but rough draft with the reader, who did.

The problem, ultimately, is not something I could ever have fixed to their satisfaction. The fic doesn't involve dubious consent on a level that I think warrants an archive warning tag -- I tried to make it explicitly clear that Ed never does anything he doesn't want to, and that he's never coerced. The issue is that the nature of Ed and Stede's relationship is inherently uneven -- Stede is rich, and although he gives Ed money that's his to keep, Ed still isn't as obscenely wealthy as Stede is. Ed is poor and has been for a while. He's good at whatever he chooses to do, but he's struggling. That's a very uncomfortable spot to put Ed in. I also put Ed through some things that I've personally been through, as a way to work through my feelings and to try and better understand myself. If I was acting like Ed in real life, the reader is right that it would be concerning. But, importantly, Ed's not real. Nothing in this story is happening to a real person. Nothing in this story is an endorsement of any of his behaviours or unhealthy coping mechanisms.

I still believe the reader had good intentions -- the amount of effort they put into coming to me would be utterly bizarre for someone who was just looking to be cruel for no reason. But that also doesn't change the fact that being told I was having a trauma response and needed to stop working on the fic immediately, pushed me into the most suicidal period I've ever experienced.

That's not their fault. I'm sure that wasn't their intention. I've chosen to not try and find out who they are, or try to contact them again to respect their privacy. Some of the things people said to me, publicly dismissing the reader's pain, were so harrowing to read that it made me feel worse for ever writing PB in the first place. They were right to stay anonymous.

I'm sure the reader never meant for me to have such a massive breakdown that I took down the entire fic and left Twitter (and a few friend groups). It's been difficult to understand that just because someone didn't mean to hurt me, doesn't change the fact that I was hurt.

One silver lining is that I did go and find a new therapist. She's great! And she also thinks that how the reader tried to bring things up to me was wrong. As the reader obviously saw, I have a lot of Trauma, so I'm still not entirely convinced that I didn't deserve what happened to me. I'm not angry at them. I appreciate their concern. I just can't do what they asked of me. In the end, Powder Blue was not a story that was right for them. And that's okay.

My point in detailing all of this, is that I stayed quiet for a long time because I didn't think I deserved to tell my part of the story. I was scared that when people said they respected my choice to take down the fic, that they agreed I'd some something impossibly harmful. People trusted my judgement but I didn't trust myself. But people didn't know that I didn't trust myself.

Additionally, reader can't speak on this without revealing themself in some way. I'm terrified that they might read this and say something anyway. My biggest fear is becoming the kind of writer who sees negative criticism and pushes on anyway, or even blocks people who disagree with me. I don't want to hurt anyone the way I've been hurt.

BUT I've been holding onto this for months. I cannot write a perfect fic that will never trigger anyone. I will never write a meaningful story that won't hurt someone, no matter my intentions. There IS a way to admit you fucked up, or a way to listen and disagree, without turning into a raging asshole. I'm struggling to find that line. I'm hoping I'm making the right choice here.

And honestly, I'm just soft. I am so fucking soft. I talk a big game but I am so soft that a single person poking at my trauma caused me to break down so severely that my partner was legitimately afraid for me. I am learning that this softness doesn't mean I should become a crueler person to cope. But it's hard. There are going to be people who see this post and think I'm being a whiny crybaby looking for attention and pity. And I just have to deal with that.

Anyway. All previous chapters of PB will be up soon. Read them or don't. I will do my best to add more detailed trigger warnings. And I would personally suggest that if you're worried about any of the content in the fic, to run these worries past a friend who's read the fic, because they'll know you better than I ever will. Please don't read Powder Blue if you think it'll harm you. I would rather have fewer readers than triggered ones.

If there's anything I've missed that you think I need to address, know that my inbox is open, that anon is on, and that I'm not in the business of retaliating against people who come to me with an issue, even if they're a dick to me while they're doing it. I'm not going to dismiss someone because they weren't nice to me while they were upset. I'm a bitch but I'm not that kind of bitch.

So. Thank you for waiting for this fic. Thank you for waiting for me. We've got something like 16 chapters to go, and I can't tell you when they'll be up, or if they'll be up soon. But thank you for loving this story. I can't tell you how much that means to me, especially now.

Love,

Scarr

[imaginespazzi]

It's very late, I'm a tiny bit tipsy but I definitely won't have time tomorrow, and if my inbox is anything to go by, y'all really want your pazzi crumbs so here y'all go (I might do a proper recap about the game later but we'll see)

Also I know I said I lowkey wanted Paige to leave but you guys seeing the way gampel loves her (like IT WAS LOUD and lowkey didn't even hear her say the "I'm coming back" part because everyone was screaming already) and seeing the way she loves them back, ugh I'm just so happy she gets that again for one more year and I just hope it's everything she wants.

Anyways onto what you're here for:

The scream I screamed when Azzi came out in the #5 jersey like I think I scared some people (read: the girl next to me even though she should be used to my bullshit by now). But when I tell y'all it was a MOMENT, for me and for Paige. I'm sure she knew it was happening but I have no idea if she'd seen Azzi in that jersey before the moment. But girlie's eyes were glued for a good minute. Like they were doing their warmups and stuff they do, and Azzi was walking around the court saying hi to people and Paige was distracted as hell. Then Azzi finally got to her and bruh the smirk on this bitch's face like WE GET IT. That's your girl, in your jersey. She definitely made some smartass comment cause Azzi rolled her eyes. Like you guys I wish I had videoed this interaction, even if it would have come out blurry as fuck, because I swear it's better than anything I can ever write, literally straight out of a fic vibes.

KK also definitely made some smartass comment cause Azzi full just shoved her at some point. Princess was getting teased by everyone today I think because she was blushing and rolling her eyes a lot and whoever was around her was laughing with teasing eyes.

They gravitate to each other so much, like so much it's kinda insane. Especially before the game, like as soon as Azzi was out of the tunnel (injured players come out a couple of minutes after the other players), even when they're not really even interacting each other, they're in each other's orbiit. Y'all like it's kinda ridiculous. And I was at the Texas game last year (was not as invested back then so maybe that's why) but I swear they weren't this attached yet.

Also seeing Azzi so happy and carefree pregame, I already knew Paige was definitely staying.

Small moment during the foul with Amari that was being reviewed, the non-injured players were huddled and the injured players were still on the bench. And Paige just kept looking back at Azzi and at some point Aaliyah like elbowed her and gave her a knowing look before also turning back and looking at Azzi.

Also I swear when they're slapping hands, both of them tend to linger just a second longer than they do with other people.

Speaking of people teasing Azzi, Paige's mom gave her the biggest smirk when she saw her after the game. Like she looked at the jersey and then like titled her head a little bit and then they hugged and it was so sweet. Before that she was messing around with all of Paige's siblings. You can just tell the comfort level is different because at this point, everyone's close to everyone's families to an extent, but it's just different with Azzi and Paige's family.

Back to gravitating, as soon as Paige was done with the SNY interview and interacting with fans, she was back in Azzi's orbit. Like they don't really touch and stuff because they're clearly aware there's so many people, but you can see they kinda want to? But they were just talking after. They're so tethered, like I know and y'all know, but when you see it in person it's kinda insane to observe.

Alright that's all I can remember right now but I'll see if I can remember more. But man it was just such an emotional night and ugh I love this senior class so much and seeing them get the love they deserve made me so happy. They deserve everything.

[loganlermanstanaccount]

I went feral for Touch and I've seen your post about some possible future Spiderman 2099 projects, so.... would you mind dropping some hints? Give us something to look forward to? Please? <3 (I really go absolutely feral when he speaks in Spanish so bonus points from those moments in Touch)

(Edit: Part 2 to Touch is up!)

AHHHH I'm gonna scream, I'm so glad someone asked!!!

current Miguel wips include:

- Miguel o'hara x secretary!reader

(this was an ask, I do read them, it just takes some time for me to get round to it)

Miguel is your boss who's weirdly closed off, constantly high strung, makes you do a ton of last minute projects. He asks you to work overtime again, and when you're leaving the building you get approached by some unsavory types... cue spiderman who swoops in to save you! he insists on keeping an eye on you every night you work overtime, and you build a little friendship that blossoms into something more.....

- camboy!Miguel x reader

You're a top subscriber to your favourite camboy, w3bhe4dd, who streams every Thursday and Saturday without fail. He's everything you'd ever want in a partner; funny and charismatic and hot asf, even though you never see his face. His hands are your favourite part; big, rough palms with a spider tattoo at its base. As a college student who works and studies basically fulltime, it's one of the only times you get to relax. Your usual routine is interrupted when your usual professor for Organic Chem quits suddenly, and is replaced by none other than Mr O'hara - a PhD student trying to fill his teaching hours. He's rude and snarky, you don't make the best first impression and you're already failing his class. But when you spot a spider tattoo at the base of his palm, exactly like a certain favourite streamer of yours, it clicks. But is it well-timed leverage or more trouble than its worth...?

- HCs and little drabbles

things like dating HCs, some fluff and some smut. I'm open to requests if anyone wants me to write a drabble!!

I'm just under 400 subs (thank you, everyone!), so maybe I'll do a subscriber event/thank you when I hit 500? Or whatever milestone. I'm thinking 7 days of Miguel O'hara fics, ngl. But we'll see.

Thanks for the ask anon, hope this was helpful <33

[differenteagletragedy]

Did I write a smutty little Derek story based entirely on this moment in Step 3 after you flirt with him and tell him he's probably super toned?

Yes, I did, and I'm not sorry about it.

This is smut-lite, I'd say, a little racier than the similar-ish Baxter fic I wrote but nothing super crazy. It also may be OOC for Derek but give the man something, OK.

If someone had asked you when you were 13 who you saw yourself with in the future, without a doubt you would have answered "Derek Suarez." He was the boy you were going to marry. There was no doubt in your mind.

Back then, you liked him so much it hurt. Sometimes he'd say and do things that made you think he might feel the same way, but he never said anything. Well, he did ask you to marry him, but only if you were both single in 10 years. And when you tried to point out that if you liked each other, maybe you could just start dating now, he shut it down so fast that you were forced to accept that your crush must have been one-sided.

That was five years ago. A lot had changed since then -- you were still friends with Derek and you definitely still had a soft spot for him, but it had been a long time since you'd realized he didn't return your affections. You'd long since stopped hoping for anything to happen with him.

But during a call towards the end of summer, just before he was leaving for college, he made a remark. Just one little comment, nothing even particularly notable, at least not to the casual observer.

After that, it was on.

During your chat, you'd exchanged updates on how your summers had been going, and you made some offhanded comment about how much more toned he must be after all the training you knew he'd been doing to get ready for college. It was flirty, sure, but nothing crazy.

His response was what had surprised you. He had flirted back.

You could still hear it. His voice had gone low and quiet as he confirmed that he was even more toned that he was the last time you'd seen him, and then, with a smirk instead of his trademark wide smile, he'd said "I hope you can see it in person sometime."

It wasn't likely -- whether it was because of his busy schedule or just by his own design, he was rarely free for a visit. But because he was leaving so soon, Cove had begged and pleaded with him to come to Sunset Bird for one last beach day before adulthood officially began, and he'd agreed.

That's how you found yourself sitting on the shore between your two best friends, holding a fruit tray on your lap as they steadily demolished it.

"What are we going to do next?" Derek asked, grabbing another piece of pineapple. "We already hit up the playground and the grocery store, now we're eating fruit on the beach."

It was a Nostalgia Day -- the three of you were doing things you'd done during that first summer together.

"I don't think we have time to go to the mall," Cove said. "I'll have to be at work before we would get back."

"I think that knocks the pool at Derek's apartment building out too," you said.

"We did pick up the lemons and water balloons," Derek offered. "We'll definitely have time for that."

You and Cove nodded in agreement. You spent the next half hour or so picking at the fruit tray, talking about what was ahead for each of you, then decided it was time for the next activity.

The lemonade was made in Cove's kitchen just as it had been five years before -- except with no knife wounds. It tasted as sweet as it did then, and when you were done with your glasses Cove went back into the house and came out with an empty laundry basket.

"Let's load it up," he said, his tone turning serious.

You and Derek worked together filling the water balloons, and Cove placed them safely in the basket. When you'd made enough to fill it, you carried it out to the street. The three of you stood around it, looking at each other.

Just as you were about to suggest some terms for the battle, Cove struck. He quickly stuck his hand into the basket, pulled out a balloon and hurled it at Derek.

When you were 13, Cove's strategy was to stay by the ammunition, not caring if he got hit so long as he had easy access to hit others, and it hadn't changed. You and Derek grabbed your own balloons as you could, darting away from Cove, but in the end, there was a clear winner, and the sopping wet clothes you and Derek wore were proof.

"No mercy, huh, Cove?" Derek asked. Nonchalantly, he pulled his shirt over his head and wrung it out on the street.

You tried not to stare, but you didn't exactly succeed. Feeling your eyes on him, he turned to you, starting to say something, but he stopped. Your own shirt was soaked and clung to your chest -- it was his turn to stare. He let himself look for just a second before he turned away.

He and Cove started picking up the little broken pieces of the balloons that littered the street, and you joined them. By the time everything was said and done, Cove announced that it was time for him to get ready for work. He gave Derek a hug -- his friend would be leaving soon, and he knew this was goodbye for a while.

Cove retreated inside his house, and Derek looked to you, smiling.

"We can keep hanging out if you want," you told him. "I don't have anything to do."

"Me neither," he replied. "Or at least nothing I would like to do more."

You'd had enough outdoor fun for the day, so you decided to hang out in your room, another familiar activity from back when you were younger. This time, you were in a different room, having taken over Liz's bigger one after she left for school herself, and Derek looked around as you went to your closet to pull out a new shirt.

"Don't turn around," you told him, seeing his back was to you as he looked at the photos on your wall. He gave you a thumbs up, and you quickly switched your wet shirt for a dry one.

When you were done, you went to stand beside him and looked at him, then to your wall. His eyes, you could tell, were on one specific picture: one your moms had took of the two of you at the summer soiree.

"We were so little," you told him, trying to focus on the photo and not the warmth that was radiating off his body, so close to yours. He still hadn't put his shirt back on, and you were trying not to think about that either.

"I know," he said. "It was the perfect night. I thought my little 13-year-old heart would explode."

"What do you mean?"

"It was life or death, remember?" he asked. You did -- he had said that that night.

"My very first date, a fancy party with you," he said wistfully. "I wish I could go back and tell myself how good I had it then."

You studied his face then, determined to figure out what he was getting at. He had a similar kind of tone that he'd had during that flirty conversation on the phone the week before, but there was something else there too. Something deeper.

He turned to face you then, moving his body to face you as well. You mirrored him, and you stood close together, neither of you saying anything.

"I really did, you know?" Derek said finally. "Have it good, I mean. I got to spend so much time with you."

"Growing up is hard," you shrugged, trying to keep your cool. "Things get busy."

"I shouldn't have let it get so busy that I stopped being so close to you."

Taking a steadying breath, you said, "We're close now."

He looked at you for a bit, and you could practically see a war going on in his mind. You imagined him imagining what you meant, what he thought was right, what you could do together here in your room while you were home alone. What he needed and what he thought he deserved.

It was tough to see him battling with himself. He'd been doing it for years, and you wanted to help him stop, if only for a little bit.

You raised a hand that you hoped didn't look as shaky as it felt and placed it on his shoulder. His muscles tensed under your touch. He looked down at your hand there, then to your face. You weren't sure how to tell him that it was ok, that he could be with you if he wanted, so you tried to convey the message with your eyes.

His flirty tone that had been on your mind all week couldn't have possibly been from this man that stood in front of you. Over the phone he's been assertive, forward, but now that you were actually in front of each other he couldn't make a move.

"Derek?" you prompted, stroking a thumb over his shoulder.

He inhaled deeply, then stiffly brought his hands up to your waist. He gripped you, testing the waters a bit, and you stepped closer to him and placed your other hand on the back of his neck.

"We are," he said. "Close now."

With a painful slowness, he brought his mouth closer to yours. He paused then, bringing his eyes from your lips to see if you were all right. You nodded, and he leaned the rest of the way in.

His kiss was, as you'd imagined, soft and gentle, like he was. It was careful and unassuming, and so sweet. You enjoyed it for a moment, taking in the fact that you were actually, finally kissing him. You pressed it into your memory.

But then you wanted more.

You pulled him in closer, deepening the kiss, and as timid as he was about this, he readily responded. His hands dipped a little lower, the tips of his fingers grazing over the curve of your hips before he moved them back up. With a little grunt of protest against his lips, you grabbed his hands and placed them where they'd wanted to go.

He laughed, and while normally you would delight in the sound, it wasn't what you were going for now, so you caught his lips in another kiss.

Slowly, he loosed up a little. He had more fun with kissing you, exploring your mouth for the first time. His hands freely roamed along your hips, down to your thighs and around to your back. A moan slipped from your mouth to his, and he pulled back.

"Is this ok?" he asked.

"Yeah. Is it ok with you?"

He smiled, placing another kiss on your forehead, and said, "I'm managing."

At some point, he slid his hands under the the bottom hem of your shirt, caressing the bare skin there. Figuring that it wasn't fair that he was the only one without a shirt, you hastily threw yours over your head and off to the side. It was his turn to moan.

Figuring that being the initiator here had played in your favor so far, you eventually started leading him over to your bed. You sat first, pulling him down with you, then you laid down on your back, hoping he'd fall into place.

With an ease that made you proud, he gently grabbed one of your knees and pulled it to the side so he could fit between your legs. He lowered himself down over you, letting your bodies touch while he still held his weight up himself. Instead of going back to your mouth, he trailed kisses all along your neck, across your collarbone and slowly -- always slowly, giving you plenty of room to pull back if you wanted -- down your chest.

You thought about how much you'd thought about having him here, exactly like this. It was better than you'd imagined, but of course it was -- actually being able to feel his warmth, see the sparkle in his pretty green eyes whenever he took a second to look up at you wasn't something you could duplicate in your dreams.

Then an unwelcome thought came -- he'd be leaving soon. In a matter of days, he'd be gone and who knows exactly when he'd come back, or when you'd get a chance to be like this again? Or if you ever would get the chance?

The thought made you a bit desperate, and you raised your hips to connect with his. His hands, which had been holding onto your hips as he kissed his way down your stomach, clenched. His breath was shallow against your skin.

"You would tell me if you wanted to stop, right?" he asked, almost bashfully. You assured him that you would, of course you would, and added, a bit bashful yourself, that you were a long ways from wanting to stop.

He slid his fingers just under the waistband of your shorts and looked up at you, wanting to be certain before he proceeded. Once again, you nodded, and he stripped you down to your underwear.

"I never thought this would happen," he murmured, coming back up to your lips. Between kisses, he said, "I wanted this for so long. Is that weird to say?"

"No," you said, "I have too. So if it's weird then at least we're both weird."

"I can live with that."

His hand started roaming again, but this time he found his way into your underwear and got to work.

As your sighs and groans grew louder and more frequent, so did his, although you weren't touching him, not yet. He kept kissing your cheek, your jawline, your temple -- anywhere he could get as he focused on moving his hand in the ways that seemed to please you most. You gripped onto his arm to steady yourself, feeling your release coming, and before he could misinterpret it you told him, "Please don't stop."

The gentleman that he was, he obliged.

When you were done -- when he was sure you were done -- he dragged his hand back up your body, confident enough now to touch you wherever he wanted. But, you'd decided, it was his turn. You nudged his shoulder, guiding him to lie down, then sat up and started pulling on his gym shorts. You took a page out of his book, going slow enough so he'd have time to tell you if he wanted you to stop.

Instead, he said, "You don't have to."

"I want to," you told him. "Is that ok?"

He thought about it, then nodded, shy again. But when you slid down his shorts, his underwear with them, and took him in your hand, the shyness was gone.

You knew Derek, and you know that he very rarely indulged himself. He always took care of everyone else and got uneasy when anyone tried to do the same for him. So you took your time.

Thankfully, he seemed to enjoy himself immensely. As you moved your hand, you started talking to him a low voice not unlike the one he'd used in that phone call that started all of this. You told him how good he was, how beautiful, as soon as a compliment popped in your head you showered it down on him, and it was impossible to come up short with words of praise when it came to him. His cheeks became as flushed as his chest, he was grunting and gasping and jerking, but when you moved to put your mouth over him, he put a firm hand on your shoulder.

"No," he said. "Don't, I didn't do that for you."

"It's not a contest," you told him with a laugh.

"Maybe not. But if it is, I want to win."

You hummed in thought, rubbing your free hand down his thigh, and after he was done with that particular moan, you said, "What if this is just the second quarter? Not even to halftime yet, plenty of chances to take the lead."

He grinned. "I can work with that, I think."

After he had finished ... well, it didn't seem like he was finished. With a passion he didn't have before, he pushed you back down to the bed and kissed you hard. His hand found its way back to your underwear, and this time you quickly took them off before letting him wrap you in his arms and pull you tight against him.

He was making the sweetest sounds, and you were breathless as he put his hand between your legs again. This time he was working quicker -- he was a fast learner. You felt him against your thigh, getting hard again already, and you found yourself trying to remember where you'd put those condoms your moms had given you, "just in case."

Before you could place them, there was a flurry of noise downstairs. Your family was home, and they weren't being quiet about it.

Derek froze and looked at you, starting to panic. Understanding that things couldn't go as far as you wanted them to put not willing to be done just yet, you started rocking your hips against his hand. He buried his face in the crook of your neck to hide the noise that move had brought out of him.

Once again, he brought you to climax, and it was your turn to muffle your cries again him. When your breathing slowed, he gave you a slow, easy kiss, then said, "We better get dressed."

You moaned, but it wasn't as fun as when you'd done it earlier.

"Come on," he said, giving you another peck before hopping out of your bed. "I'm not about to be caught in your room naked."

You watched as he quickly got dressed, and you felt his eyes on you as you did the same. Before, he wouldn't have dared to check you out like this. Now he was drinking it in shamelessly.

When you were both presentable, you saw his smile fade a bit. You raised your eyebrows, and he said, "I wish this wasn't over. I wish we had more time."

You could tell he wasn't just talking about this afternoon.

"Well, just remember what I said," you told him, stepping closer and gripping his arms for the pep talk. "This is halftime. The game's not over yet."

He smirked at your attempt at a sports metaphor, then surprised you by moving a hand down to squeeze your ass.

"Oh, it's not over by a long shot."

[yanderes-galore]

Could I Request a yandere arkhamverse harley quinn concept? -🎂

Sure! Writing Harley Quinn could be fun :) This felt a bit everywhere but most of my fics are me just letting my thoughts flow without planning so I hope you enjoy ^^

Yandere! Arkham! Harley Quinn Concept

(Primarily Arkham Knight)

Pairing: Platonic -> Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Stalking, Violence, Manipulation, Anger issues, Grief, Kidnapping, Drugging/Gassing, Breaking and entering, Forced companionship, Delusional behavior, Clingy behavior.

Harley could work as a romantic or platonic.

Like... as a platonic she seems like she'd be really bubbly and act like a friend.

A psychotic friend but... somewhat of a friend.

As a romantic she'd be about as obsessive with you as she would be with Joker.

One thing that Arkham/Injustice Harley share with each other is their independence from Joker.

It's just that they deal with it differently.

Injustice Harley becomes a hero after the death of Joker.

While Arkham Harley commits to crime in the name of Joker.

This version of Harley actually gets more insane at the passing of Joker instead of better.

Harley would be a very dangerous yandere in general, but this universe may just make her worse.

Her obsession with someone new most likely starts sometime around Arkham Knight if she sees you in a romantic sense.

If she sees you in a platonic sense I imagine it could be whenever but for now I'll focus on Arkham Knight.

Harley is a yandere who feels she needs to be dependent on her darling.

If she sees you as a friend/ally then she sticks around you as she feels you'll ease her through her grief.

Which is strange as if anyone else tries to ease her grief she snaps at them.

Here's some backstory between you, up until Arkham Knight.

The friend route would make more sense if you "knew" her when Joker was alive.

Harley no doubt first had platonic feelings towards you, that's how her yandere traits would start due to her being with Joker.

She stalks you for a bit then breaks into your home.

She acts like you two are friends and is really bubbly and overly excited towards you.

While you barely know anything about the crazed woman who keeps breaking into your home, she feels she knows everything about you from just watching you.

No doubt spills about you towards the Joker.

She tells him she's found a new friend and that they simply must be involved with their plans.

Your "friendship" with Harley is very one-sided.

She somehow manages to find you and even drags you with her places.

At least once you've been a hostage for one of her and Joker's plans.

The entire time she's acting like it's a fun thing for you two to do.

"Mr. J said I could bring you to meet him~ I bet we'll have so much fun!"

You did not.

Despite your fear and forced compliance, she trusts you and soon you may even get used to being a target of her strange obsession.

Hell, maybe soon you convince her you'll be her "friend" if she just visits and doesn't pull you into any of Joker's plans.

She agrees... and never leaves you alone.

You and Joker are the ones she loves the most.

So when she loses Joker, her beloved, she only has one other person to cling to.

While you contact the police and Batman of Harley's obsession towards you, Harley realizes she needs the comfort of her beloved friend.

It's at this point Harley can stay a platonic yandere or split into a romantic yandere.

Harley would hunt you down, even if you moved.

When she does? She'll send her goons to pick you up and drag her to her little base she's made for herself.

It disappoints her that you may no longer be in your old home, but she'll find you.

You don't need to hide from her!

The moment your conscious you look so confused.

Only to see Harley staring with a grin.

"Hey there! Been awhile, hasn't it? Safe to say I think I've missed you...."

Harley would use her darling as a coping mechanism.

Like an old friend, one you never wanted, she sobs and rants about the loss of Joker.

The whole time you're tied to a chair and hoping Batman comes fast enough.

Then over time she'd shift the topic of her rants to you.

She rambles to you about how you've always been there and how much fun you two have had in the past.

Then maybe the conversation dips into romantic territory... her mentioning how she feels things for you without even meaning to say it.

The idea of her having romantic feelings towards you strikes fear in your gut.

Unfortunately, it's not your say if she has romantic intentions with you or not.

If Harley continues to just see you as a friend then she plans on making you her second in command.

Even if she liked you as a crush she'd take a similar route, although it changes over time.

She's physically clingy and often wants her darling beside her.

Harley would also find some sort of "fun" nickname to call you all the time, smiling the whole time.

If Harley held romantic feelings towards you... imagine if she tried to make you her new "Joker" in this universe?

She may try to get her hands on Joker blood, gas, or even some chemicals to force you into her new love.

Oh, Puddin'... you may be unwilling now, but she'll show you that you can be wonderful for each other.

Harley in this universe truly can't forget about her Joker.

She also adores you.

Why should she have to choose between the two of you?

Why doesn't she just have both?

Harley in this universe definitely seems like she'd brainwash and drug you into the next Joker.

The moment she sees traits of him in you melded with your normal personality, she's in love.

Ohhh, now she has you both!

She's never been happier!

While you're panicking as your personality feels split due to Joker... Harley is holding you and kissing you with happy giggles.

"Oh you're everything and everyone I love! Now I have you both once again... we... I can be happy again!"

By this point something is telling you to reciprocate the affection but you struggle with what to do.

Harley becomes fully dependent on you after this, simply happy she has her two loves in one.

Maybe you'll even let the whole Joker personality take over?

Then you'll be a ruler of crime.

This isn't a life you wanted.

But as the Joker's presence within you grows... you begin to enjoy it.

Then maybe you'll begin to reciprocate Harley's feelings.

Then you'll be everything she's ever wanted.

"I love you, Puddin'...!"

[tsukimefuku]

Right, wrong and the in-between (Part 1)

Previous chapter | Next chapter

You and Higuruma were assigned to investigate the disappearance of women around Shinjuku. This led to a dicey situation regarding what place Jujutsu sorcerers occupy in this world and what is their role to play when non-sorcerers get involved.

This is part of my "Jujutsu Partners Canon Divergence AU". There is currently a sequence of short stories and random drabbles for a fic I'll eventually write (eventually). To see the ever-growing list of one-shots, please visit my masterlist :)  The "Right, wrong and the in-between" will be a 4 (maybe 3) part short-story set in this AU. This is the first part, I hope you enjoy! The tags below will be applicable to every chapter.

Tags: oc/f!reader, soft/implied Higuruma x reader, soft/implied Nanami x reader, slow burn, mentions of violence and non-con/abuse among side characters, canon typical violence, some angst, some fluff, just characters being themselves driving the plot (and me) insane. Some philosophical debate will be in place.

WC: 1.7k

"Well, this looks like a one-man job." Higuruma said, with his small gavel resting lazily on the side of his forehead. You were both seated at the backseat of a Jujutsu Tech's car, and Ijichi was driving.

"Oh, it sure is," you replied, "but you can't be going on solo missions until further notice. So you're stuck with me for the time being."

"Oh, no. I'm definitely not complaining of 'being stuck' with you." He replied, looking at you. "I just think that there's probably a better way of using such scarce resources, like jujutsu sorcerers. This parole should've been over already, that's my point. I already commited myself with atoning for my crimes and fight alongside Jujutsu High."

"Higuruma, it could be worse. You could've been executed." You said, as you put the side of your forehead on the car's window and closed your eyes. "The higher ups are awful like that, I know it firsthand. I just hope they'll all die or go to hell soon enough."

That caught his attention, and made a small bead of sweat appear in Ijichi's temple as he looked at you through the rearview mirror. "You have told me to have your issues with them, but never clarified what they were. I mean, you don't strike me as the type to do something that would render you at risk of getting a death sentence, or anything of the sort." Higuruma pondered, now curious. "So how would you know?"

"Oh, how would you know that about me, now? We've been working together for only three weeks, smart-ass" you said as you looked at him, scoffed and smiled. "If you behave today and I don't get bedridden for whatever reason, maybe I'll tell you over some drinks at HQ, since you're still on a leash. I will get us some beer, and we'll bash on the established power right under their roof. How's that sound?"

He smiled. "Fine. We have a deal. But I get pretty argumentative when I drink, just a heads-up."

You chuckled. "Wouldn't expect any less from you." Even if you were working alongside Higuruma for a short amount of time, you actually appreciated the guy's company — when he wasn't being a risky maniac on the battlefield —, and could totally get behind his disdain for Jujutsu High. You felt that way about them yourself, and with good reason.

After the bantering, you started to mentally go over the mission you were both assigned. 

Many women were going missing in an area of Shinjuku, Tokyo's red-light district, for the past few weeks. It wouldn't be something to be dealt by Jujutsu High if it weren't for the cursed energy traces left around the places these women were going missing from. The disappearances were undoubtedly due to cursed activity, so Higuruma and you were sent out to investigate.

"Ijichi, is there any indication this could be due to a curse user?" You asked.

"No, Ms. Why do you ask?"

You went over some pictures they had sent to you on your phone. "There is no blood, guts, or anything like that in any of these places. I mean, curses are often related to disappearances, sure, but it's not a very curse-like behavior to kidnap people in so many different places through such a large area."

"So a curse user with criminal intent is the most likely scenario?" Higuruma completed.

"Yes. It would make more sense. And considering the area of Kabukicho, it's possible these women..." Your stomach turned on itself before you could finish your sentence. You were all silent at that moment, for you all knew what that meant.

Higuruma sighed. "Yes, it makes sense."

"Oh. Hey, Ijichi, what is Nanami up to? Haven't seen him in some days." You asked. Since getting promoted to a Grade 1 sorcerer, you stopped going on missions with Nanami and were mostly taking on tasks alone until you were assigned to shepherd Higuruma. 

"He's actually working on another mission around Shinjuku too." Ijichi replied.

"Oh, he is?" The excitement in your voice was clear as day, as you said that with a smile. Higuruma looked at you seemingly a little dissatisfied, but said nothing.

"Yes. But he's on the opposite side of Shinjuku, currently."

"Oh." You deflated a little. "Well, drink night with the sorcerers is almost up the corner. See you both there, Ijichi."

He smiled as his face blushed slightly. "See you there."

You looked at Higuruma. "And I hope you're liberated from your leash soon enough, so you can join us too. I'd be happy to see you there."

He was a little surprised as he looked back at you. "Oh. Okay." Was all he managed to answer.

After 6 minutes, you arrived at your destination. The street was covered with signage and neon lights over the buildings, which were all crammed together, in a tight and claustrophobic pack. Since it was still afternoon, there was not much effervescence, given that this part of Shinjuku would become more lively during nighttime.

"Ijichi, we will go looking around to see if we find anything. When we do, I'll cast a veil myself, okay? Wait for us here." You told him, as you and Higuruma started to make your way down the street.

"So, we're looking for cursed energy traces that could lead us to our culprit?" Higuruma asked you.

"Precisely. Be it a curse or curse user, this was sloppy as hell. They left remains in every scene." You replied. "Shouldn't be so hard to track them down."

"Fine, then. Let's get this over with."

***

After some walking around, you both stood in the front of a building that seemed to have some cursed energy traces over the door. They were very faint, but were definitely there. The club was closed, and would only open after 6PM. 

"Well, do you want to look around while we wait for it?" You asked Higuruma.

"Anything to be out of headquarters. I thought I knew what being arrested felt like, but it's so much worse than I thought. Not having the freedom to come and go to places... It's dreadful." He replied, his body trembling unconsciously.

"Oh, really?" You said. "I thought you’d be used to that. I mean… You were a criminal defense lawyer."

He sighed. "Yes. But then I wasn't. It's a matter of will, you see, fighting a broken system from within." He put his gavel away, deducing you both wouldn't be facing any harm anytime soon. "There is no way to win a game when you're bound by the constraints of the game's unfair rules."

"Was breaking free worth it?" You asked.

***

When you were assigned Higuruma's case, to hunt him down, you were briefed on his situation. A curse user that was a lawyer and had awoken his abilities right after a trial, killing the prosecutor and the judge in the process. After that, he basically remained hidden for a few weeks before Jujutsu High located him. He expanded his domain on you and confiscated your cursed technique, but as you both started brawling, a curse attacked, lured in by the cursed energy you were both emanating. In a split second, you told Higuruma to run, and that you would face the grade 1 curse alone. You just felt, right then, that this man wasn't deserving of death. He had killed two people, of course, but nobody actually knew why that happened or even bothered to investigate it adequately. You wanted to hear what he had to say about it.

"You have no cursed technique anymore!" Higuruma shouted.

"Just fucking go! Run! I'll handle this!" You answered, charging to punch the curse with cursed energy. It had multiple arms, like a spider, and it took only one swing to send you all the way across the place, having you hit concrete and spit blood.

Shit. Higuruma felt it would be unfair to let you tackle this by yourself, with no cursed technique, after he was the one who removed it from you. He'd be indirectly responsible for your death, and this was completely different from fighting you and defeating you himself. This miniscule spark of morals coming back to him felt... Strange.

He took his gavel and proceeded to exorcize the curse as you watched mesmerized at how well this guy could fight in a such short amount of time. You texted Gojo asking for help without Higuruma noticing, because in that state, you wouldn't be much use defeating this man. After Higuruma was done, before he could leave, Gojo appeared, and you shouted for him not to kill the guy. Gojo knocked him out rather quickly, and you proceeded to explain everything that had happened, while also requesting his assistance to suspend Higuruma's sentence.

"He's strong. He exorcized this grade 1 curse without my help, and he awakened his abilities a week ago or so." You said. "I think this guy has potential. I talked to him, and he seems... misguided."

Gojo pondered for a moment with Higuruma over his shoulder. "Are you sure? I mean, he's the one that put you in this situation in the first place."

"I'm sure." You said. "Gojo, you saved me from the claws of the higher ups. They're arbitrary bigots, you know that. Please, trust me. Take this as a request from a friend." You felt indebted for that man, guilty or not, had just saved your life.

Gojo sighed and smiled at you, giving you a thumbs up. "I'll do my best. But you'll owe me another bag of kikufuku."

You smiled back at him. "Of course."

***

"I don't know." He answered earnestly, looking at you. "I'm still deciding while I atone for my crimes. After all, I left one broken system and ended up entangled in another. People seem to be terrible wherever I go."

You laughed. "Well, that's for sure."

"Aren't you going to try to dissuade me from that stance?" Higuruma asked. "That people are terrible?"

You scoffed. "Me? Hell no. We're a duo of cynical people. Can't promise to give you back any sense of ideal or anything of the sort. You'll have to find it for yourself."

He smiled at you. "You think of yourself in a curious way. I wouldn't say you're cynical." He replied.

"Oh, really? What am I, then?" You retorted.

At that moment, you heard two voices in the street around the corner. They were indistinguishable, but sounded female. You both approached quietly, and saw a woman in her late fifties, wearing a velvety crimson robe, guiding a lady — who must've been no more than over twenty-years-old — inside the building through a back door.

"Well, that was suspicious. That woman looked like a pimp" you said.

"You're someone that sees things for what they are" he concluded.

[dykeomania]

𝒎𝒊𝒂'𝒔 𝒔𝒎𝒖𝒕 𝒃𝒍𝒖𝒓𝒃𝒔: parenthood (3).

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: parenthood means stress, and endurance, and exhaustion, and learning curves, and ... sometimes, really, really, really good sex?

𝐚/𝐧: this is my Parenthood (Thought) Piece because i understand that i am mentally 30 but i llloooooooooooveeee a good domesticity concept i eat that shit up nnomnomnonmonmnom. i needed to talk about early parenthood with ellie and i needed to talk about some of the ... Alternate Consequences ... of early parenting .. if you will. this was fun. this was also composed between the hours of like, 2-4am. i think it's pretty literate, and kind of alright. you may have a fun time reading it. if you don't, sorry i'll venmo you a dollar. not ssssure if i really have anything else to say, honestly. proofread (at a very early hour, mind you) but i always make mistakes, i'll always edit over time.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: i understand these tags are like super weird and i always preface my fics like "fuck around and find out," but just to be clear, this fic does not sexualize children in any way. any way. just to really make that clear. mentions of you and ellie being engaged. joel's technically alive. mentions of children. parental uncertainty. stress. a little bit of sub bottom!ellie. we're dipping our toes in. also dom top!ellie. mentions of oral (both receiving), mentions of vaginal penetration (reader receiving). both ellie and the reader being milfs / ellie thinking its really hot how you are a good mom (there are still so many things in this category that i could've hit that im probably not even thinking of, so if y'all like this and wanna talk about them, Please talk to me) i write in past tense for literally all of it and this is just a me thing, but that's not really my style, so things may be .. off. or maybe it's just me. maybe i'm tripping. we'll see. it's like, 4am. so.

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 4.1k, just about (i did too much).

.   .   .   .

you both lived on the farm. it was a quiet, proud little life that you lead. a picturesque actualization of all of the little thoughts and dreams that you and ellie have had about living together, about having a family. though, parenthood was new, and difficult. there were some nights that the baby wouldn't stop crying, and both of you would take turns feeling like shit -- one usually at a grander magnitude than the other --  because neither of you would know what to do. what, am i like, a bad mom? does he hate me? you spent time convincing each other that that is simply not the case, and that this was all part of the process. that you were both new, and learning, and that it's okay.

if you knew nothing else, whether that be due to not having experienced parenthood before or the delirium accompanying the heavy set bags and dark circled ruminating under both of your eyes, then you did know that there were a few things for certain: he will suck his thumb. his cries will turn to wails which will turn to sniffles, which will turn to sighs. he will get tired. he will roll over, and coo, and will go to sleep.... eventually.

granted, while this mentality in general made things easier throughout the early days of raising your newborn son, there was still no doubt that it was.. exhausting. in every way. parenting was a constant learning curve, and it took tolls on both of you in different ways. for ellie, she'd get quiet. snippy, even, and gain a little bit too much audacity at times. a snarky remark or demonstration of blatant impatience towards something minuscule, but still hurtful. her frustration would always point toward some deeper issue that she often struggled met with annoyance first, and words second. one of the first things that ellie learned while parenting was that she was really bad at communicating. she'd find herself throughout the first three, maybe even six months, constantly finding ways to say sorry.. even without saying really having said it. like, slipping into bed when after you'd finally went to sleep, and pressing kisses to your temple. or making sure the dishrack was completely empty, so you'd have one less thing to work about. albeit she struggled to verbally explain that while she understood you were too, she was just.. a little tired.

maybe it was the sleep deprivation, or her willingness to take up most of the tasks that required attention in areas other than just the inside of the home. which.. you did have to admit, were a little bit more intense than cleaning and washing dishes. no one asked her to do all of that. she took it upon herself to do extraneous tasks, like fix the fucking roof, during the peak of summer. and you'd always offer to help, truly. but it was always no, i've got it. you've got other stuff to do. you just go play with him, and i'll be in to take over in a little, okay?

you would, at times, have to sit her down and remind her to take it slow. that the roof isn't really bothering either of you, right now, and it won't until .. october, probably. that it's okay to swap out, if need be. she can do dishes, cook if she wants (burn down the house, if she wants), clean up while you go fix the wiring of the fence, tend to the horses, whatever the fuck she feels the need to do, on top of having to do already.

you would have to remind her, that she just can't do everything all at once. and that's okay. but that's also neither of your faults.

both you and parenthood alike would teach her to .. slow down, take it easy, and to talk.

ellie would have to teach you something similar, believe it or not. your back hurt. your tits wouldn't stop fucking leaking, and ever since you gave birth, you wouldn't stop getting these aching migraines that made your ears ring. you quite literally found yourself bending over backwards, trying to do everything all at once all of the time (sound familiar?), because you knew that it was as much of your job as it was ellie's. you can change the diapers, you can pump the breastmilk, you can clean the house, you can stop him from crying, you can read him books (that he couldn't understand, yet, technically), you could do everything. and theoretically, you could. and you would, until it made you frayed, and unhealthy.

that would be enough to make ellie to step in, put her hand on your shoulder, and advise you in a tone that was about as gentle as it was stern:

hey, let maria take him for a couple of days. you're tense -- i can feel you from across the house.

despite the anxiety and the frustration and the sleep deprivation and the exhaustion, you really would feel grateful to be experiencing this trying time together. there were some patterns characterizing it that were obviously stressful, and anxiety-inducing. but there were some consistencies throughout it that were be sweet, and tender. like, running each other warm baths. sitting – either in the bath, with the other, or on the toilet, or the side of the bath – and talking in low volume, not really out of fear of waking the baby, but just to kind of relish in the pocket of peace that existed between the two of you in that moment. the affection never died between the two of you. you were always snuggling close to each other when it came time for bed. always pressing tender kisses to each other's shoulders, holding each other's hands, circling your thumbs and indexes over each other's engagement rings.

… But!

you know... i'm a whore. so honestly, what really spurred this whole thought, is the fact that .. during parenthood your sex lives would practically be nonexistent. and it's not something that either of you really notice, until one of you explicitly brought it up. raising a child -- especially raising one in an environment that you both worked to keep safe, secured, and comfortable -- is a lot of work.

it wouldn't dawn upon either of you until you both were eating one night at the table - another tradition that you did not forfeit. you managed to dance around the subject due to something entirely tangential, and then it hit you, and you said – out of pure realization, ellie, we haven't had sex in .. like, months.

and just like that, the consequences of at least 98 days of involuntarily celibacy hit you both like a fucking truck.

for you, it came in the form of .. the simple reminder that your soon-to-be-wife is really... really fucking physically flawless. you'd notice this everytime she'd wear short-sleeves, or shirts no sleeves, which was really only.. every once in a while, as jackson got colder, or whenever you both woke up. sometimes you'd find yourself looking at ellie's back profile as she sat upright on the bed, adjacent and turned from you, stretching a big, grand stretch, and you'd feel a specific heat beginning to tickle the insides of your thighs. you found it harder to keep your gazes to yourself as ellie exited the shower, muscles apparent, and glistening. her whole body was littered with scars, and yet she was still so gorgeous. it was hard to believe that even for a second you failed to recall – or be conscious of – the fact that as much of a teddy-bear as she was, you were practically dating a fucking sculpture.

naturally, you would act on your desires first. and frankly, ellie would be so willing to lean into them. 

she'd be lying if she said sometimes she didn't wake feeling a bit restless, and like there was only one thing that soothe her. she craved it, sometimes – your hands, on her. all she needed were some quick rubs against her clit and kisses against her skin to motivate her to get out of bed and feed the animals. and she was so, so fortunate to have a fiancée good enough to her to give her just that.

she dared, shame on her, to forget how good you could make her feel. ellie never really let anyone touch her, before she met you. before she met you, she was honestly convinced a lot of the parts "down there" didn't work. she could hardly achieve making herself cum. it’d take so long. ellie hardly masturbated because she’d get impatient in any ordeal that wasn’t some needy, feral 3am occurrence that left her stirring, sweaty, and overwhelmed. it was a lot of buildup for what she saw as, in the end, very little payoff. and as far as other people making her cum went? well, no one had ever gotten that far. frankly, she didn’t think anyone would get that far.

that was until she met you.

it definitely wasn’t easy. there were a lot of tired wrists and upper biceps, and your jaw did get pretty sore. her pussy was gorgeously messy. but her clit liked to hide sometimes underneath the extra skin. when you found it, you learned that it was usually, extremely sensitive. but you told her that that was okay. you could make that work.

you spent a lot of time learning all of the technicalities. what was too much, what wasn’t enough. what to say to her; how fast to rub her.

it paid off, because about a month into dating, you showed her that it — and frankly, anything — was possible. just takes a little bit of time, and patience, kisses and whispers of affirmation how about how good she feels. how good she’s doing. takes some listening, intently, to what she needs. to what her body needs. 

can feel you twitching. you want my finger right here?

fuck, yeah. right there. just like that, baby -- please don't fuckin' stop.

and once you got good at it (and you got so fucking good at it), ellie couldn’t get enough. she jokes, regularly, that that’s one of the reasons why she’s going to marry you.

ellie's voice in the mornings would breathless and empty. all bostonian accent, rasp, and nothing else. they were vulnerable. whenever she'd let you between her thighs and you placed those kitten licks across her clit transitioning into these longer, learned drags, her moans would break, like glass. her hips would shuffle. sometimes, you’d have to hold her still.

no no, fucking running. it’s okay. just let me. can you let me? can you let me take care of you, baby?

fuck. yes. yes, yes, fuck. s— sorry just – oh, fuck.

it would mostly just be wake-me-ups. but ellie's back would always be arching by the middle of it. she'd find herself gasping, and sighing, and fucking -- against your tongue, against your finger -- and gripping onto whatever, all while mumbling to gods she didn't believe in.

that feels so, so so fucking – g–good.

so fucking good to me; feels so good, babe, thinki'mgonnacum–

ellie's orgasms hit her the same way every time. hard. ridiculously hard. leaving her breathing heavy, and screwing her eyes shut while she grasped at your hand, or your hair. her thighs would tense -- sometimes scramble -- and then collapse, after a while. she became this perfect amalgamation of tinted cheeks, chapped pink lips, messy brown hair, and sticky skin. 

she was such a fucking .. painting. she's so incredible.

the plan, as she wrote it, often was to immediately get out of bed after you made her cum. but oftentimes, she couldn't do anything for the first couple of minutes except lie there, body just a sack of bones and jello. her head would rest instead of pressing into yours, or would nuzzle its way deep into your neck. both occasions a precursor to her finally catching her breath. when she moves her head to kiss you, capturing your lips in something thankful, and sweet, it is almost always grounding for the both of you.

better?

so much better. holy shit, babe.

and that's not to say that ellie would never act on her desires. she was always just a little more calculated.

for ellie, her frustrations would creep up on her in the weirdest ways. it would be.. small things. things that were, actually, probably mutual. watching you wash the dishes, even when you’re not bent in a particularly promiscuous way. watching you cook, even when she wasn't really watching you, 'cause she was keeping the baby busy. but what really did her in was watching how you handled your son. something about seeing you have him on your hip, cooing at him or laughing with him, or playing with him, or smothering his cheek in big kisses that elicited these big, big giggles from him, drove her.. a very, questionable? kind of crazy? it was pure. it was so sweet, and most of the time, it was just that. but you were so, good with him. after so many months, despite all of the struggle, you really did blossom into a beautiful, capable mother, who still held the glow and all of the weight from the pregnancy and just–

ellie would realize how good it all looked on you. she would feel.. really proud.

and it made her feel like you ..  deserved something.

you both remember the first night she’d acted on her desires like it was yesterday. it was on the night that you two had hosted a dinner party for all of your mutual close friends and people who you called family. the dinner was a 3-week-long process of grocery picking, tablecloth finding, invitation designing, and recipe collecting. it honestly stressed you out more than it did ellie because, to be honest, she was kind of just there for moral support. it was your idea, after having had maria over for dinner once. and it was a great idea. but it left you drained – defeated from the final week of preparations, which was especially hectic. when you bathed that night, you bathed alone, a little overstimulated from the day. but you’d let ellie run the bath, though. only because she insisted on doing so. 

the soak cured some of the ache that settled deep into your joints, muscles, and bones.. but not all of it. after you'd set the tub to drain, brushed your teeth, and wrapped a towel around your body, you entered the room with an expected level of silence. you slathered moisturizer on your face, over your arms, over your stretch marks. when it came time to take off your jewlery, the rings – except the prized one – came off easily. but when it came to your necklace, your hands were simply too slippery. you sucked your teeth. you always did this. 

you eventually sighed, filling your lungs to call:

hey, bug. can you come help me take this necklace off, please?

ellie eventually would appear behind you, probably shuffling off of the bed or rounding some corner after changing and becoming into her own definition of comfortable. if she seriously complained, you didn’t hear it. you only felt her, how her hand placed itself on your shoulder just to let you know that she was behind you.

some things never change, move your hair over.

you do as asked, and hang your head. ellie's fingers brush against your skin with a kind of delicacy that makes shivers run down your spine. you lift your eyes, catching ellie's in the mirror before you. yours, heavier than hers.

you watched as she fought a smile, or a smirk. either was a given with her, honestly — in retrospect, it was most likely the latter. you couldn’t really tell, though. she’d dipped her head, eyes fixated on her fingers that fiddled with your necklace clasp.

you did a really nice job on the dinner, tonight.

suddenly, you were the one fighting the smile. you watched her, still.

yeah?

oh, you like.. completely knocked it out of the park. you did great. it was really, really really nice.

you didnt know if ellie was referring to the food, or the setup, or the wine choices – whichever. but something about the appraisal made your head buzz, like you were coming down off a two glasses of champagne (which.. maybe you were). ellie successfully removed your necklace, and yet didn’t back away. instead, she pressed herself closer to your back, and tilted her head so that she could speak just above the top of your ear,

you looked really nice, too.

been waiting for you to settle down, a bit. so i could tell you.

you probably hummed something in response, something that was probably suggestive but also thankful at the same time. it gets lost, though. because ellie bent down, and placed these slow, unassuming, appreciative kisses down your neck, and against the plateau of your shoulder. between those words and the way her hands lingered over your skin, the way she was breathing you in and drinking up the moment, and your scent, made you melt into her way too easily. like butter in a warm pan.

you exhale, like you've been meaning to for .. you don't even know how long.

el..

mhm?

you realize though, that the house is quiet. too quiet. there is a stillness to it that makes the pit of your stomach twist, and anxiety and guilt bubble in the base of it before you could even stop it.

...where's our baby?

you felt ellie grin against your shoulder. she masked it with a peck,

he’s at joel’s.

and then you felt her tongue drag across your skin. a long, open-mouthed kiss across the midpoint of your neck. she presses the padding of her tongue against tender flesh, sucks hard enough for blood to make the skin bloom, and almost -- against your own will -- makes your eyes roll shut.

the simple act -- acts rather, of ellie coordinating behind your back to have the baby taken off your hands (you knew it for a few days –  it's always a few days). she thought she was so slick. it was odd, how much relief those three words gave you,

but at the same time, you kind of wanted to be mad at her.

it was hard to, though. but you couldn't think straight, with how her hands were moving over you, over your towel. with her pelvis pressed against your ass, and her lips on your neck.

you tried,

he was fine here. everything was .. fine, ellie.

but she was so..

i never said everything wasn't fine.

i just think... you've had a really long, stressful week.

you hate how your body reacts to ellie's hands smoothing up your towel. your whole body broke out into goosebumps, seemingly trying to fit into the pores of ellie's palm, 

and i think i wanna make it better.

ellie's breath was hot on your ear, and you didn’t realize it, but your head was already tilted. your eyes had begun to flutter closed. you felt yourself, almost swaying against her. your mouth hung as her teeth grazed over sensitive flesh. her tongue pressed against familiar spots that had been untouched -- like the rest of you -- for so, so long. it was too activating.

in your best effort of defense, you spun yourself to turn around to face her. ellie’s head was tilted, her eyes were low. her breath spanned over your mouth while your palm laid flat against her chest. you stalled – shivering, shaking, suddenly caught in a rapture of toiling emotion that you hadn't felt that strongly in .. god knows how long.

her head dipped back into your neck. she pressed her cotton-clad hips against your towel-covered ones, and it just wasn’t enough. it was a lot, and yet, not enough.

your hand snaked over the nape of her neck as you breathed against your cheek, whole body feeling heavy and compliant. your knees were jelly. you could feel your clit. pulsing, and pleading. it ached as you feel ellie's hand slip over the backs of your thighs, inching under the cusps of your ass.

you needed something. you needed anything. you like to think that you had no idea what necessity meant before this moment, because you had never felt it so strongly. it knocked the wind out of you, only leading you to ask – to plead, without pleading,

e... ellie?

and she understood.

ellie’s head lifted from the crook of your neck she crashed her lips upon yours. the kiss was heavy, and deep. your knees buckled, and where you swore you may fall, she made sure you didn’t. you were shuddering, a hand suddenly possessive around the back her neck. her hands suddenly possessive and stabilizing with the grips she held on your ass. months worth of unknown tension relinquished itself in the pushes and pulls you demanded from each other's bodies while teeth clattered and bit into chapped flesh, turned glossy. moans and breaths circumvented between the two of you, and suddenly, the whole room felt like it was on fire.

she delivered a verbal command, teeth tugging at your lower lip as she half-way parted from it, 

jump.

you’d used whatever remainder of your energy to follow the simple instruction, your legs wrapping around ellie's waist like she was your lifeline. they remained around her as your back fell against the duvet, and as she kissed you so deep, your head ran dizzy and your body was left no choice but to arch into her.

you remember your hand smoothing over her abdomen, and reaching up to grab her chest. you remember sighing into her mouth over the fact that you could. you relished in the moan she released your mouth, and only returned it halfway. 

you remember gripping her and massaging her and bucking your bare hips up against her in hopes of making her make that noise again, louder. you remember how she bucked her hips into you in hopes of the same sentiment, her waistband grazing against your bair clit cauisng her to succeed far quicker than you. 

the night was filled with mind-blurring, fuck-until-the-sun-rises kind of sex. sex that you had no idea your body had needed until ellie had given it to you. your body reeled with every kiss that she'd placed over your skin – you’d watched as she peeled back your towel, and replaced bits and segments of the fabric with her lips in soft, attentive kisses.  it was hard to believe that they would transpire into messy, sloppy things. wet, tantilizing things that would trek down the axis of your body. that would hold your body hostage as her tongue and her lips worked on your clit to bring you closer and closer to your third orgasm of the hour. 

your body wasn’t used to it. any of it. it was, however, too used to and hyperaware of having a tiny human in the house that you simply couldn’t wake at this time of night.

you were shuffling, at one point, scrambling to put a hand on your mouth, or to bite your own knuckle.  when that didn’t work, you let your head fall over to a pillow while you fucked up against ellie’s tongue and bit the fabric, trying so hard not to moan. but you felt yourself cracking. 

you’ll never forget how ellie looked up at you. eyes a deep, pointed shade of green as she shook her head – mouth still attached to your clit – which in and of itself had almost made you cry. when she pulled away, it was the only time you let yourself make a noise. only because the whine that was ripped out of you was entirely unanticipated, just like her action.

her breath rippled over your the nerves as she ran her fingertip up, and down your hole. you whimpered, hips shifting up relfexivley, cunt tightening just from the invitation. nearly gushing from the feeling of her beginning to small rub circles against it, instead.

i’ve missed you so fucking much.

she dipped a finger inside of you with such ease, and no warning. a long, slender digit bottomed out inside your cunt, before she pushed in another, and made your jaw go slack. her eyes hung on yours – glossed over with lust and a bit narrow as a result of the devious smile that’d begun to overtake her expression.

she’d begun pumping her fingers.

he’s not here, baby.

it’s just us.

her fingers were so fucking long, you swore to god, you would never want a life without them in it. couldn’t bear another 3, 4, 5 months without having them in you. jesus fuck.

wanna hear you. 

wanna hear you be as loud as you fuckin’ want.

ellie emphasized her words by proceeding to fuck you faster. her tongue latched back onto your clit, rolling over and slurping at the nerves, rolling beads of saliva and your juices into and against the bundle. the sound of your cunt was so encompassing, it was hard to believe that it became the backdrop for the moans that ellie had ripped out of you. that made it into, and mostly out of, the pillow, amidst a sea of praise and bucking hips.

the next morning was luxuriuosly unproductive. ellie had only woke to feed the animals and returned to bed and slept with you until noon. she was always affectionate, come mornings. but especially riding off of the honeymoon buzz of the night prior, she made the morning after memorably tender, often pressing kisses to your forehead, and your shoulder, regardless of how awake both you or she was. she’d whisper sweet nothings into your ear, promises of how much she loved you. how she’s really glad this is how she gets to spend her life, as long as it’s with you. all of the sugary things that eventually caramelize into jokes and giggles and laughter, and that how you’d know it was time to get up.

it’s safe to say that parenthood brought you and ellie both very interesting things. it brought you challenges, and it brought you lows. it brought you highs, and photographs, and moments where you did feel like all of your hard-work was paying off, even when it didn’t seem that way. having a family meant having the opportunity to open your house up to people you who you loved. having a family meant having traditions, and things to fall back on – things that you would develop over time, as you learned more and discovered more of what you wanted. and having a family with ellie meant that you could fall back on each other, no matter how tough things got.

.. it also just meant sometimes having really.. really good sex. 

(whenever you remembered that that was something that the two of you could actually do, that is.)

[amethystfairy1]

hi I'm back again already lol, bc u really ought to know all the great things about ttsbc that I was too lazy to write out last time lmao.

Also! totally fine that ur not doing skizzpulse, you should write what inspires/motivates you (personally very motivated by them xD I've written ~90k words of skizzpulse myself rip)

Anyways, good things! You! you're the good things! I honestly can't remember when I last sent an ask in for the lil guys, so I'm just gonna say something I loved about each of their recent arcs.

First, Treebark. There's been so many identity reveals but I think this has been my favorite thus far. Ren going all protective boyfriend and fighting over Martyn was SO GOOD, plus soft kisses and they can just hold hands now without Ren being afraid he'll figure it out. Also loved Martyn seducing his entire family while being terrified out of his mind by big dog people with knives, like, I'd be a little out of it too. but the fam doesn't even notice but Ren did and is all supportive and comforts him, offers to take him home. I love how well they can read each other, like they're just in tune. they're soulmates, your honor. and, AND this means we can have double dates where they all know now! so excited :)))))

Zedango. this is what started me reading your stuff (the first fic I ever wrote was actually my own tt zedango ficlet, btw. that feels like an eternity ago now) I love how they've simultaneously progressed and devolved into slightly unhealthy relationship territory. something about not everything being perfect all the time just adds so much depth and realism to their relationship, as well as keeping the plot tense without feeling like you're making up problems just to have something to write about. AND THEN Tango doing the blazeborn courtship rituals was just so aaaaaaaa (THEY"RE SO ADORBSABLEEE) Tango setting aside his disgust with his claws to take care of Zed even tho its uncomfortable for him, and then Zed recognizing that and having all the warm fuzzy fondness for his bf was so sweet. Doc's notes about the rituals were on point, with how he reassures Tango that they're normal, healthy things and saying he's always open to having a conversation about it. (tho, i doubt Tango's ever taken him up on that offer lmao)

The other fic that's been in my head is ur most recent one, Handshakes and Headaches. I highly doubt we'll get a cub reveal in this next chapter, but ig we'll see soon enough. I loved how Cub just knew instantly that Grian was a hybrid and was just going in spirals putting it together that he was cuteguy, then him coming to the wrong conclusion about whether Scar knew, too, was just perfect. Tho, if he did think Scar knew and was cool with it, I wonder what he'd do first? Tell Scar his own secret, guess Grian's secret in front of them? I feel like he would think the safe thing would be to confront Scar about Grian being Cuteguy, and then if/when Scar admits it and says he's cool with it, Cub would feel safe(r) revealing his own identity. Maybe not right away, but sometime. Also, that would mean everyone in Hot Cave knows about hybrids and undercity, so he wouldn't have to glamor while he works (tho, that would also require revealing to Zed... they don't seem super close, but it's kinda obvious that Zed's chill w/ the undercity people, considering he's dating Tango and Cub knows that).

Also! now that Hypno knows G and Scar are safe, I really wanna see him revealing to Scar and Scar being all supportive and stuff :)))) Hypno wasn't someone I knew I needed in this world, but I'd die for him now. (ALSO the casual mention that his scales are dry and flaky rather than smooth and taken care of??? Hello?????? Someone get him some proper self-care ASAP, maybe take him swimming at a private pool or something idk. I feel like the moment Scar knows, he's going to be on it with the cookies and love and support. so excited hehehe)

anyways, I'm probably forgetting something, but whatever. I'll be back with more art soon (maybe I draw Hypno, since I've never done that before and electric eel hybrid sounds cool. Actually, I've decided, I'm gonna do it now. remind me what that looks like pls? or I go reread, whichever happens faster lol)

Ok that's all, have a good day!

I LOVE THE RAMBLESSSSS

Petition to get Hypno a private pool 😆

I'm so glad you love the slightly unhealthy but also very loving Zedango situation we have going on!

I LOVED YOUR TT ZEDANGO FIC! I'M STILL WAITING FOR THE SEQUEL!!!! 😭 /j you don't have to write one if you don't wanna BUT KNOW THAT I LOVED IT!

Ren being a protective boyfriend is all I need sometimes! It's just good fun! Thank you so much for telling all about everything!!!

I would actually LOVE to see how you would design Hypno if you do feel like drawing him! That sounds amazing! Electric Eel hybrid time!!!! 💖

[for-a-longlongtime]

Songs and musings in the Key of Peña-Rockford

(Those gun holsters have me all fucked up. Seriously.)

I warned y'all about how obsessive my hyperfocus can get, right? Damn ADHD. The choke hold (all the puns intended) that this fic idea has on me is unreal, haha. But all of your comments and encouragements about this Rockford Pena WIP are making me so happy and relieving some of the stress I feel about writing it - thank you! I don't have another snippet to share just yet (so I hope this post isn't too much of a cock tease), but since I always love to read about character thots and writing processes (e.g. the extra posts by @mysterious-moonstruck-musings about her Destiny & Deliverance series, and @gracieispunk with her White Lotus posts), I figured I'd post a little update with some musings and songs I'm associating with this fic.

My Spotify currently is curated by @sin-djarin, who somehow knew just the right songs that relate to this WIP. Particularly these three tracks are on constant repeat. Going back and forth with her about little things that come up, or question ‘why this and not’ has been so much fun really. It makes me giddy because it turns the fic into something collaborative rather than just something from the inside of my brain, you know?

Whisper - Morphine

I included this track the other day already with the WIP snippet; it’s sexy and slow and that bass line really gets to me, then the saxophone ups it even more. @sin-djarin sent me several Morphine songs (I have to admit that somehow I wasn’t familiar with them) but this one stands out. The push and pull that’s happening in the lyrics is also delicious, and a lot of it feels like it’s coming from Rockford’s POV about Javi - that’s all I’ll say about it for now.

A Perfect Twist - Mike Patton

This song has an exuberant, rather bombastic vibe to it that I would’ve never associated with anything related to Peña. Although, those lyrics... they are definitely about brat taming.

I'll bend you over my knee Let's see what you can take You're never gonna break

And I'll squeeze that noose a little tighter Breathing like a snake How much can you take? You're never gonna break

And I'll turn those screws a little tighter You can hardly wait You're never gonna break

Just one more twist of the pliers Got you on the brink How much can you take? You're never gonna break

There’s something about the dizzying tune and pace that somehow evokes the noir-like Rockford vibes in the Merge Mansion clips, laced with liquor and cigarette smoke and things spinning kinda out of control.

Wait who said Masquerade Mansion? 🎭

In relation to these two?

Shhhh let’s pretend you didn’t see that. Keep your eyes wide shut. 🎭

Broad Daylight - Gabriel Rios

This is the only song that suddenly came to me re: this fic, and I was all… the fuck is this. I like the song, it's catchy, but it just didn’t make any sense to me with regard to Javi and Tim. The only thing I could think of in relation to the track was maybe a vague reference of Peña getting caught up with Los Pepes, things that were done in the dark and shouldn't come out in the daylight:

Back in the old days, tight like a fight Used to hang with the devil in the broad daylight

But still, it puzzled me. I think something in one of the Morphine songs musically led me to Broad Daylight, weird as that may sound. After way too many replays of that song (and @sin-djarin joking about 'what are those Polaroids Tim has on Javi?', since the song mentions polaroids), the relevance of the song finally clicked with me;

Look at you shaking you can't find his plight Got you scared of ghosts in the dead of night While you're making up stories trying to make it ok He'll be bringing them in to let them out and play In the broad daylight

We'll see how it goes from there.

At some point, there's also going to be a bit of Marcus Pike in the fic (pancakes!). I have to be honest - I don’t really read a lot of Marcus!fic, so I’ve been trying to figure out how he fits in and some of his character traits etc. But the wonderful @secretelephanttattoo was very quick to offer me some insights about Marcus that I needed! Go read it here.

TBH, I had absolutely not planned to write anything about Peña any time soon, because why I love him in canon and in the many fics I've read, I didn't exactly feel like I had a good enough handle on writing something about him that has some plot rather than just fucking. But then this fic idea popped up. If there's anyone who knows him really well, it's @goodwithcheese (you'd better be reading her incredible new story Paranoid Heart about Javi!). So I dropped some questions and fortunately she was totally up for some character chat right here, which is really helping me figure out some things. Thank you babe, and I hope more people will contribute thots to your 1K Celebration Confessional about their sins!

Also, I've been trying to put a time and place to the fic, but I've decided to not get too hung up about that because it's really not literature but Fic/Porn With Plot. It doesn't all have to make sense. But in case you're curious, I'm leaning towards this taking place in the US in recent enough times that smartphones are a thing.

Age wise, I'm seeing Tim Rockford as being 48/50 years old probably. Javier is about 40, 41 years old - just to give you an idea of 'which Javi' I'm looking at, I've got a sense of him as he is in Narcos S2 around episode 4-9, after Carillo is murdered, and Berna takes him to see Judy Moncada.

Reader insert (I know, I haven't spoken a lot about her yet!) is probably about 40 years old too. And finally, Marcus Pike is give r take about 37 years old, which corresponds with his Mentalist appearance.

BTW, I came across an edit that had all of the Tim Rockford bits from the ads without the additional stuff. A whopping total of 48 seconds. Man, I hope that Pedro is aware of how fucked up he has us about Rockford with less than a minute of his acting. Even my wife said 'I would totally watch a show or movie based on this character' when I played the Merge Mansion ads for her.

Finally, here's a video of Pedro talking about "real fantasy fullfillment in terms of getting to immerse yourself in an experience" and how he "loves being a detective, that's fantasy fullfilment for me" re: the Merge Mansion event day.

*hits replay*

Say 'fantasy fullfillment' one more time? Respectfully.

Like I said, I hope he knows how fucked up he has us all about Rockford. I sure am glad he did these ads and whatever he got paid, it sure wasn't enough.

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

Updated tag list (comment if you want to be added, or if I added you by accident!) based on folks who commented/reblogged on the prev posts:

@sin-djarin @legendary-pink-dot @imalrightllama @secretelephanttattoo @rhoorl @mysterious-moonstruck-musings @trulybetty @goodwithcheese @linzels-blog @rifflovesjoey @maggiemayhemnj @magpiepills @youandmeand5bucks @morallyinept @5oh5 @missredherring @avastrasposts @anavatazes @imaswellkid @pedrit0-pascalit0 @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @survivingandenduring @boliv-jenta @prolix-yuy @sheepdogchick3 @inept-the-magnificent @northernwindd @alltheglitterandtheroar @readingiskeepingmegoing @txlady37 @rebel-held @alwaysmicado @heareball @clawdee @covetyou @bellsbluebrd @alltheglitterandtheroar @axshadows @casa-boiardi @bastardmandennis @stealyourblorbos @chronically-ghosted @katw474 @beabliss @nerdieforpedro

I don't know why some usernames don't seem to link when I try to tag them, btw. Does anyone have any suggestions on how to fix this?

[rems-writing]

An encounter with a Moon Knight

Pairing: Apollo!Hongjoong × MoonKnight!reader (platonic)

Warning(s): It starts out so well and then it gets depressing at the end

Genre: Fluff with an angsty ending

Nets: @blossomnet @mirohs-aurora-society

Context: Apollo is the god of music and the sun. He has a twin sister named Artemis, who is the goddess of the hunt and the moon.

Side note: ok originally I was gonna put the reader as a demigod. However, due to the fact that I didn't finish the PJO series on Disney Plus, I had to improvise

Once I catch up on the PJO series, maybe I'll write this trope again. But we'll see! Anyways

Includes: Yunho as Thor, Yeosang as Ptah, San as Hercules, Wooyoung as Loki, and Jongho as Sekhmet. There will be a tiny mention of Seonghwa as Anubis, but other than that, the ancient Egyptian god of the dead is completely gone. In addition, Mingi will not be in this as well. If you want to know where Seonghwa and Mingi have gone, you may read this so you can find them.

Thank you to @bunnliix for helping me decide the order of the fics I should write and post

In Greece's city square, people all around are doing the most normal things. From buying food/groceries at market stands to walking and chatting amongst themselves about whatever is going on in their lives, it seems like life is easy going, especially for the young god of music and the sun.

The Olympians know him as Apollo, but the mortals know him as Hongjoong.

Hongjoong was at a small cafe drinking coffee and munching on a sandwich slowly as he writes notes on empty staff paper, occasionally dipping his quill into an inkpot if he ran out of ink. He hums softly to himself whilst notating the melody at the same time. It was just another average day for him and he couldn't have been happier.

Until he heard a commotion from outside.

Snapping his head up, he looked out the window to see people gathering around or running towards the crowd to gather around. Looking at his surroundings, he waited until the coast was clear before snapping his fingers. The materials on the table disappeared, except for his coffee and sandwich. He packed up it and stood up from his table before bidding goodbye to the cafe's owner and exiting the small coffee shop so he could join the crowd.

He approached the crowd and squeezed through carefully to see what was going on. He asked one of the people for context on what was happening and that person simply pointed out something that was laying on the ground. Hongjoong turned his head slowly and his face paled.

That wasn't something.

It was someone.

As he got closer, his godly senses were on high alert. It didn't help that the crowd closed in on him now while he crouched down to see who this person was. A silent gasp escaped his lips as he saw the face of the person that was laying on the ground unconscious.

It was one of Khonshu's Moon Knights.

More specifically, it was the Moon Knight that Seonghwa Anubis explicitly told his godly brethren to not go near at all costs.

Y/N.

As the Spector twin laid unconscious, Hongjoong breathed in deeply before standing up to address the crowd.

"GUYS, IF YOU COULD PLEASE TAKE A STEP BACK AND ALLOW A BIT OF BREATHING ROOM FOR OUR GUEST! I'LL TAKE CARE OF THEM!"

His voice rang out throughout the city square and the people, albeit still concerned or curious, obeyed his command and stepped back as much as possible so he could pick up the unconscious twin and carry them to safety.

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

You didn't know how you ended up in Greece, yet you did either way.

One minute, you were with Marc in some random town to try and complete this fuckass mission Khonshu sent you guys on. The next minute, the both of you were thrown out of said town and went flying across the globe. You had no idea where your brother was and you were panicking. You felt a hand on your shoulder and you instantly knew that there was a godly presence behind you. Frozen in your place, you slowly looked up to see a kind man looking down at you with concern.

And he was pretty.

Soft lips, pretty nose, high cheekbones, brown eyes that were comforting, and an even prettier smile. His body was clad in an off-white t-shirt with some logo on it and a pair of black gym shorts.

What caught your attention the most was the tattoo peeking out of his sleeve. You tilted your head to the side to try and read it.

"No1LikeMe"

Even though your voice was hoarse, Hongjoong's smile grew bigger as you read the words on his tattoo out loud. You seemed calmer now, which was exactly what he wanted. He sat down next to you on the bed and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear.

"Are you ok?"

His voice was soft and a bit high pitched yet it carried a light feeling as he spoke. You nodded and stretched a bit before sighing and looking at him.

"Thanks for rescuing me. Um... weird question, but which god are you? I sensed a powerful aura when you approached me."

"Ahh. That's fine. My human name is Kim Hongjoong, but in this city's mythology, I'm known as Apollo."

You nodded in acknowledgement to his answer. You studied up on a bit of Greek mythology when you were younger so to have the god of music sitting right next to you was a bit overwhelming but in a good way.

"How long was I out?"

"For about three days."

THREE DAYS?!

WELL SHIT

You laughed awkwardly and were prepared to apologize when you felt his hand grab yours gently. You noticed that he had his pinky finger painted in an olive-green nail polish. You thought that was unique.

"Don't apologize, Y/N. I assumed you were on a mission and somehow, it went sideways and you ended up crash landing here."

Seeing the apprehension on your face due to him knowing your name without you telling him, Hongjoong quickly clarified.

"Before you ask, Anubis told us about you. How he let you go since he would feel even worse if he took you to the Field of Reeds at such a young age after dying underneath the statue of Khonshu."

Upon hearing the old bird's name, you cringed.

"Speaking of that fuckass pigeon, we were on a mission for him. The enemy was strong and we got defeated easily. Hence, how I landed here."

Hongjoong nodded in acknowledgement as you clarified your unannounced presence.

"Ahh. I see. If I may ask, are you in a rush to get back on that mission? If not, I can ask my sister to fend off Khonshu whilst you recover and find a way to contact Marc."

Upon hearing Artemis's name, you nodded eagerly. She was your favorite moon deity and Olympian goddess so you took Hongjoong's offer up quickly.

"Will I have to do anything for her in return?"

"Other than maybe hunt some things for her, not really. Just recover. I'll help you find a way to get in touch with Marc."

"Thank you, Apollo."

"Just call me Hongjoong. Hearing my official name makes our friendship too formal."

You blushed out of awkwardness and Hongjoong patted your head before snapping his fingers. A record player appeared and his music was playing in the background. The soft melody made you relax and forget about everything as you laid down and fell back asleep.

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

That encounter happened three months ago. Ever since then, Hongjoong has been keeping up with updates about you through Artemis. As he sat in the same spot in the cafe and composed more music, his mind was completely in the zone.

Until Artemis sprinted into the cafe in her own human disguise and haphazardly sat across from him.

Startled by her sudden appearance, Hongjoong flinched and looked up. Usually, Artemis was calm and neutral so seeing her all frazzled and bewildered was unsettling.

"What's wrong, dear sister?"

"I've been given a message from Taweret. She said that you need to meet up with your friends for a meeting. With the urgency in her voice, I fear it's something bad."

Hongjoong nodded firmly and packed up everything before snapping his fingers and transporting himself from the cafe to the usual meet up place.

A secret room within The Colosseum.

He was soon met with the faces of his beloved friends.

Jeong Yunho, aka Thor Odinson

Kang Yeosang, aka Ptah

Choi San, aka Hercules

Jung Wooyoung, aka Loki Laufeyson

And Choi Jongho, aka Sekhmet

He saw a curly haired woman sitting in Seonghwa's Anubis's place and he instantly recognized who she was.

Layla El-Faouly, the wife of Marc Spector.

She served as Taweret's temporary avatar before so Hongjoong assumed that the hippo goddess asked permission to take over Layla once again since she can't leave the Duat.

"Hello, Layla. It's nice to meet you." Hongjoong politely said and Layla shyly waved. San raked over her awkward form and he was about to say something when Wooyoung whacked him over the head.

"San! She's married! And she's only here for a short time. So stop it!" Wooyoung hissed.

Ever since the Norse god of mischief started dating that Avenger in his timeline, Hongjoong noticed an air of maturity surrounding him. He was still playful and silly, but this time, he actually took things seriously.

Hongjoong noticed Layla stand straight momentarily before going back to normal. However, instead of the French accent she spoke with, a British accent came out of her mouth.

Taweret was here.

As the hippo goddess wrung her hands nervously, she looked to the rest of the gods, who were watching her intently.

"Um... so. I have an announcement for you all."

She breathed in and out shakily before continuing to speak.

"A lot of you are wondering why Anubis isn't here. Well... there is a reason. But at the end of the day, I am just the messenger."

She held out her hand and a scarab appeared. As it flew in her hand, its bioluminescent wings shone brightly to make a screen appear.

In the screen was Seonghwa, aka Anubis

"Hi, everyone. If you're seeing this message, then that means... I'm truly gone."

Everyone gasped, including Hongjoong. Only Yeosang and Jongho were the only ones that weren't as shocked with this revelation.

They knew.

"I'm not really dead per say, but... I've decided to join the mortal world. My memories as the ancient Egyptian god of the dead have been left behind in the Duat. I am a new man in a new body with a clear mind and an open clean heart. You may be wondering to yourselves now. Why would I do this?"

Hongjoong had a feeling but he decided to let his friend say it.

"As all of you were aware, Y/N was in the Duat momentarily when that follower of Ammit shot my beloved twice and left them to die."

Everyone cringed at Ammit's name, including Yunho. And he was usually the brightest god in their friend group.

"I took care of them and made sure they went back with Taweret to the land of the living so they could stop Ammit's wrath. However, in the process... my heart was broken once more."

A quiet sniffle from the god made Hongjoong's heart lurch in pain.

"I wanted to be selfish. I wanted to keep them to myself. However, if I did, then Ammit would've taken over the world. And I couldn't have that. I expressed my frustration with Taweret. She told me that I could be reunited with Y/N... for a small price."

A lone tear ran down the god's face.

"Did I pay it? Yes. Was it worth it...?"

The god smiled sadly yet it was bright and full of love.

"Yes. It was. By the time this message ends, I will most likely be in a new body with a new name. Do not search for me. Rather... remember me and make sure my old name lives on. Goodbye, my dear friends. May we reunite again someday."

The message soon ends and Taweret made the scarab disappear before comforting a crying Yunho. Wooyoung was comforting San while Hongjoong exchanged a knowing look with Yeosang and Jongho.

The three of them knew that this day would come. And yet...

They can't help the small grins on their faces. After all...

Their friend deserved to be happy.

[tollingreminiscentbells]

In case anyone out there is wondering what is happening with my creative projects, this is the state of things!

I am in the last third of the final main story fic in All changed. And I am going to be splitting it into a part 1 and part 2, releasing maybe 5 days apart. 17,000 words is the border between short fiction and a novella and it's going to surpass that. There's an organic place to break it at about the 11,000-word mark.

I do intend to write at least a couple of side stories in that AU. Some romance, some humor, some slice-of-life, all pretty light. This will be more of an ongoing thing, appearing as they happen.

But after I'm done with the current RadioApple, I'll be doing the next chapter of RoCS. I'm actually reevaluating a plot point to decide if I still want to pursue it. It's nothing dramatic that would change the story overall, but it is a decision I'm sitting with for a minute.

And then I am going to start writing the RadioApple Southern Gothic AU. I'm calling it A Momentary Radiance, which comes from a piece of stage direction in The Glass Menagerie (Laura in scene 6 is described as being given "a momentary radiance, not actual, not lasting"). The Glass Menagerie is a memory play, not a Southern Gothic, but it is Tennessee Williams. Close enough.

What I have not decided is whether I want to write all of A Momentary Radiance before I release any of it. It will be chaptered, more of a traditional novel, but I might try out writing the whole thing first and then serializing the release. We'll see if that ends up being what happens in reality!

[1heartfanfics]

could you do one of Peter being sick at the tower (nauseous and throwing up, fever etc) and Tony goes all Dad ModeTM, and all the Avengers are like damn, Tony is being so fatherly; when did he get so soft? later tony still showing how great of a dad he is peter falls asleep on him during a movie and the avengers are like bro? ur a dad to this kid now? and tony is all defensive like no-no hes-ok maybe kind of, now stop talking you're gonna wake my kid and he smiles down like *my* kid, I like that

Apparently I'm only in the mood for writing fandom fics rn cause I am just not feeling motivated to write for my oc's lately. Anyway here's a short one.

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

"You alright there kid?" Steve asked Peter, noticing how unusually quiet he'd been tonight.

"M'okay," Peter shrugged, not sounding very convincing.

"He's definitely not okay," Clint said, "That is the face of someone who is going to puke soon."

"You gonna be sick Peter?" Steve asked, moving to sit beside Peter on the couch.

Peter swallowed hard, his face suddenly a pale green. "M-maybe," he struggled to get out.

"Clint can you-?" Steve stopped as Clint handed him the trash can, already one step ahead of him. Steve was grateful that Clint moved to sit on Peter's other side, placing a hand on the kids back as he leaned over the can. Clint had kids of his own, he knew how to do this. Steve on the other hand, felt pretty out of his element.

Peter groaned, wrapping his arms around his stomach. His mouth hung open limply and his eyes were unfocused as waves of nausea rushed over him. Normally he would be embarrassed that Hawkeye and Captain America were about to see him barf, but he felt too sick to even care.

"That's it kiddo, just keep breathing," Clint said, gently rubbing Peter's back.

"Does anybody know where Tony is?" Steve asked, looking around at the others. Tony was probably the one that Peter wanted right now. But he was met with clueless stares and blank faces.

"I'll go find him," Bruce said, standing up and heading out of the room.

Then Peter gagged harshly, his body convulsing as he threw up into the trash can. Steve brought his hand up to the kids forehead to help support him and keep his hair out of his eyes. He could feel that Peter was burning up with a fever.

"Jesus Pete what happened!?" Tony cried as he walked into the room, followed by Bruce, who had apparently found Tony rather quickly. Steve stood to let Tony take his spot next to Peter, who immediately wrapped an arm around the kids shoulders.

"I don't feel good," Peter moaned, slumping against his mentor.

"I know kid, but I've got you, you're gonna be alright," Tony said, rubbing his hand up and down Peter's arm. "Can someone go get us some water?" he asked, glancing up at the others.

Clint nodded, "I'll get it. You done for now Peter?" he asked, gesturing toward the trash.

Peter groaned, but nodded his head. Clint picked up the can and took it with him as he headed for the kitchen, presumably to clean it out and get Peter something else to be sick in for the inevitable round 2. Seems like the poor kid had caught a stomach bug.

Clint returned a moment later with a fresh bin lined with a plastic bag, and a glass of water. He set the trash can down in front of Peter again and handed Tony the water.

"Here Pete, you think you can take a drink for me?" he asked quietly.

Peter said nothing, but straightened up enough to take the glass from Tony. He took a small sip, wincing as he swallowed, then handed the glass back. Tony frowned, clearly not satisfied.

"Alright, we'll try some more later," he said, knowing that he shouldn't press too much or he'd risk making the kid sick again. "You want to go up to bed or stay down here?" he asked.

"Too tired," Peter shook his head, eyelids drooping heavily as if to prove his point.

"Okay, come here then, lay down," Tony said, placing a pillow in his lap for Peter to lay on, then helping maneuver the kid so that he was laying down.

Tony could have easily carried the kid to bed, but decided that it might be best to have him out here where he could keep an eye on him for a while anyway. He brushed the kids hair out of his eyes then grabbed the blanket off the back of the couch and draped it over him as best he could.

That was when he felt the eyes on him. All of the others had been silently watching the exchange. They'd never seen Tony so... soft.

"What?" he asked, rolling his eyes at the looks on their faces.

"You the kids dad now huh?" Nat asked, smirking playfully, although there was fondness in her eyes.

"Well, no. Obviously not. I mean, he's just-" Tony fumbled over his words, caught off guard by the word 'dad'. Was he? Is that how Peter thought of him? He hated to admit that the thought made his heart swell a little. Maybe this really was his kid.

[indestructibleheart]

Thank you for the tags, @rmd-writes, @hgejfmw-hgejhsf, @maxbegone, and @three-drink-amy!

I'm getting close to the end of The Coma Fic™️! Hooray!

I've just reached the point where I don't want to share out of context snippets anymore because I don't want to spoil important moments... even though y'all already know Alex is gonna wake up. Anyway, that means this is the last time I'll share a snip until I drop the whole thing (and it's a few more than seven sentences):

For a moment, Alex thinks Nora has a point. It's not so bad. Alex looks out at the lake, watching the moon glisten against the still water, and he thinks… You know what? Yeah. He can stay here. It's peaceful, and he has June and Nora—figments or not—and, maybe, he's tired of fucking fighting all the time. Maybe he's here because he deserves some goddamn peace.  Then he lays down on his back and the sky spreads out above him. That's another thing about Austin. You can really see the stars out here. D.C. isn't quite as bright as other big cities he's been to, but out here? The midnight sky is littered with stars, scattered as far and wide as he can see. And he's never been one for astronomy, but it's easy for his eyes to spot a familiar belt of three stars and a sword held high. "What're you doing out here?" There's a shuffling sound next to him, and Alex turns his head to find Henry—finally—dropping to lie beside him in the dirt. His blonde hair is sticking to his forehead and droplets cling to his eyelashes. He's as beautiful as he's always been. Alex's lips twitch. "Looking for Orion," he says. "Ah," Henry replies. "Any luck?" He hums in the affirmative. "The three stars there"—he takes Henry's hand, twines their fingers, and points them together, as if Henry wasn't the one who taught him—"are the dead giveaway. That's the belt, and his shoulders up here…" "I see." Henry smiles; it's in the smooth tone of his voice. "I had no idea you were into astronomy." Alex smiles. "Oh, I'm not," he teases, dropping their still-twined hands onto the ground between them. "Some guy taught me. The things we'll do for a piece of ass, right?" Henry laughs. "A piece of—Christ, Alex." He shakes his head. Mud collects in his hair. "Charming. Truly." "Yeah, I was gonna be really charming when I busted down your door," Alex says. "You dodged a bullet." Instantly, Henry's smile fades. Alex wishes he could take it back.

Tagging some lovelies under the cut. If you have not been tagged and you want to be, consider this your tag!

@anchoredarchangel, @barbiediaz, @cha-melodius, @cricketnationrise, @guillermosfamiliar, @hippolotamus, @inexplicablymine, @jettestar, @junebugclaremontdiaz, @kiwiana-writes, @lizzie-bennetdarcy, @missgeevious, @mulderscully, @myheartalivewrites, @ninzied, @nontoxic-writes, @notspecialbabe, @priincebutt, @treluna4, @vanillahigh00, @welcometololaland, @orchidscript, @ships-to-sail, @stereopticons

[ihatetheinternetandeveryoneonit]

Tainted--An Astarion Drabble

Full fic HERE

A little smutty but mostly angsty. And despite me being a horny bitch I have a very hard time writing smut.

Basically Astarion's perspective in the forest encounter after the fade-to-black and the whole experience blows up in his face.

I'll try and finish the damn thing but I wanted to toss this little bit out there and see how it goes.

nsfw/nsft/18+ argument, dissociation, sad stuff

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

"Astarion?"

Astarion's attention snapped to reality, but his rhythm was too practiced to falter. "What is it, pet?" he panted.

She stared at him as he continued to thrust into her, but her face showed no pleasure. In fact, it was frustration.

"What's wrong?" Her voice lowered into something so serious it was nearly comical in this situation.

"What do you mean?" Astarion wore a lazy smirk, trying to angle himself to hit an ever-so-popular spot, that ought to shut her up.

"Get off."

He paused and looked at her scowl. Yes, she was serious.

Furious, Astarion pulled out and shoved himself off. His first time choosing to have a roll in the hay, the first time he didn't have to think about his body being someone's death sentence. Only to be brutally rejected like this.

All those times, he wandered now, was his allure even him? Or was it some "gift" from his master?

"What do you even want here?" Tav sat up in a huff.

"What do you want?" Astarion shot back.

"I don't know," Tav narrowed her eyes at him. "Maybe to feel like I'm wanted?"

"Why do you think I invited you here?!" He spat.

Tav shrugged in exasperation. "If I wanted a well-oiled piston, I'd buy one from an artificer!"

"It's called skill, darling." Venom began to drip from his words. "Maybe one day you'll know what it looks like."

"Fuck skill, give me enthusiasm! If you're not enjoying it, then what's the point?!" Tav shook her head, scrambling to her feet. "If fucking me is such a chore, then you're relieved."

"Wait." Astarion reached out, but Tav was already out of his grasp. But she mercifully paused.

His mind was a flurry of thoughts. "How…? You think I wasn't enjoying myself?"

Tav rolled her eyes. "I've had to fake it a time or two. I know what it looks like."

So she wanted real. But hells if he knew what real looked like anymore.

"But why do you care?" He frowned at Tav.

"Because I'm…sane?" She wrinkled her nose. "Not deranged? What kind of question is that?!" Her voice grew heated in offense. But after a pause, she softened a bit and sighed, sitting back down.

"Look, I'm not gonna ask any more on…whatever is going on with you right now. But I like you--so far--and there's no point doing any of this if you're not enjoying it. You'll be miserable, I'll be unsatisfied, and we'll both waste our time."

She treated this like it was basic, obvious. Maybe it was.

Gasps, moans of pleasure, nails digging in--those were just feedback to Astarion. His way of knowing that he was doing the right thing, touching the right spot. All those times seeing their pleasure was the goal, but never the prize.

It just then hit him. How utterly broken he was. A perfect machine, with skills honed to a degree that a courtesan could only dream of, but the part of him that would know something so fundamental as sharing pleasure--broken.

He laughed bitterly.