#maybe if I can get back into it I'll post a snippet of one of my old works

[bird-inacage]

The Heart Killers EP1: Kant & Bison's Desire for Agency

I recently wrote a post around Kant being the vehicle for Bison's freedom, but I'm spotting a bigger theme that these two lovebirds share in common. Both feel stripped of their agency, their ability to dictate their lives freely on their own terms and by their own ideals and desires.

For that reason, they're respectively struggling with where they are versus where they want to be, as factors beyond their control currently inhibit that from being attainable.

"I've cleared my name of car theft. My hands are so damn clean now." Kant is keen to put his past behind him, however Captain Chris has him cornered under the threat of re-opening his previous felonies and possible jail time, dangling custody of his brother as a bargaining chip. "If you get this done for me, not only will your criminal record be swept away, I'll wipe it clean." "If you go to jail, who'd take care of your brother?" Leaving Kant with no choice but to begrudgingly concede.

Bison feels similarly trapped by a life he didn't choose, clearly eager at any opportunity to 'clock off'. "I do what I have to do. Now I want to do what I want to. Can't I just live a little?" "If being hitmen makes it so hard to live, shouldn't we just quit?" "I don't want to kill people for a living my whole life... I just want to live my life." He just wants to enjoy a normal life - to have fun, to be frivolous, to embrace being an ordinary 24 year old.

TOGETHER WE BREAK FREE

Their relationship serves as temporary relief or escape from the situations they both find themselves in. Bison finds Kant's company a break from routine and monotony, a welcome distraction in between killing and working at the burger bar (neither of which he chose for himself). Dating Kant is an insight into the joys of life he fears missing out on. 'When I'm with you, I'm not a killer, I'm just a boy'.

By some poetic irony, Kant's mission to instrument Bison's capture would grant him access to the freedom he is seeking - allowing him and his brother to truly start afresh. There will absolutely be more backstory to come as to why Kant wants this so badly, that he’s willing to throw so much in. Dating Bison may begin as a means to an end, but Kant does find himself falling in love - despite his objective.

Once everything is out in the open, I do think they'll aid one another in acquiring the agency they each so desperately desire. No one can better understand how it feels to be trapped than someone who is also fighting against the bars of their own cage.

OVERCOMING YOUR RESTRAINTS

On their first date, Kant shares the following with Bison: “Would you believe me if I told you that I'm afraid of the ocean? Something happened when I was a kid. I almost drowned. Now I'm still afraid of it." One could argue that we don't know if Kant's admission is true, but I don't see any reason for him to lie about this specifically.

This promptly takes me back to this moment from the trailer, which has prominently stuck in my mind. I still get the impression that they are working together here when Kant jumps in. If Bison was on the offensive, I don't think he'd be as stationary or calm. Maybe he's performing under someone's watchful eye, or his gun is aimed at something out of shot, or they're practicing for a specific stunt.

Whatever the context, this scene now has considerably more weight. The fact that Kant jumps in whilst his hands are bound, when he has a fear of drowning is an indication of putting his complete trust in Bison (who is adept at swimming), to rescue him if needs be. The implication here being that Bison may quite literally, mentally and symbolically free Kant from his restraints, helping him to overcome what he’s most afraid of.

BDSM: THE PLEASURE OF CONTROL

Funnily enough, this duo's exploration of BDSM even aligns with their shared desire for agency. From the few snippets we’ve been shown, Bison likes being the one in control. Your partner consents to be at your mercy, affording you the power to enact pleasure and/or pain. And there’s a heady thrill in being handed such control. (It's also worth noting the inherent power play in taking a life, but whether Bison derives any pleasure from this, I'm not 100% sure. Kant also knows Bison is capable of killing, so letting him dominate actually says a tonne). During their one night stand, Bison even quips, "you're not doing this solo, you know," which teases that he's no passive participant. This seems to be Bison's philosophy on life overall (and the root of his dissatisfaction), that he's not one to sit back and watch his life pass him by.

Kant seems happy to indulge Bison in taking the reins. Having his agency taken away during acts of passion, but on his terms is noticeably different to feeling forcibly pushed - because you've chosen how and who you forfeit that agency to. This is partly why I suspect Kant actually gives Bison permission to tie him up in that boat scene (above), for the greater purposes of a mission or task they have agreed to help each other achieve.

You can keep tabs on bird-inacage’s BL meta directory for my other long-form posts around The Heart Killers, which I’ll be updating in real time as the show airs.

[novankenn]

Spin-Off Snippets from "A Mafia Au"

Inspiration / Original Post / Follow-up Post

Blake plastered a plastic smile on her face, and pushed a cheery attitude as she wave while Jaune left, with a blush Pyrrha, who was now wearing a matching Pumpkin Pete Hoodie, aside from the emblem on hers was neon pink. Once they were out of sight, she sighed, and started to make her way to the door.

She froze when a rather string hand clamped down on her shoulder. She cursed at herself for tossing away her weapon. While she was a skilled assassin, and very effective with unarmed-combat, she was considerable more effective with a blade. But she tenses her muscles anyway, and prepared to fight.

"So... you're my co-worker?" the slightly unhinged voice floated through the air to Blake's ears. "What's you name?"

"Blake. Blake Belladonna?" she replied while turning her head just enough to see with whom she was speaking. The sight of the deer faunus woman standing next to her, made Blake shiver. The young woman looked good. She appeared to be in decent shape, had a nice figure, a small set of antlers protruded up through her orange-brown hair, plus a warm smile... but it was the eyes. Her eyes looked cold, dead, soulless.

"Well, Blake my name is Deandra Thistle, but my friends call me Deery... you can call me Deery."

"Hi, Deery?"

"So I saw you serving those two customers there." Deery continued without giving Blake a chance to speak. "You did good work, but you need to become more professional, and you SHOULD be wearing your uniform."

"Uniform?" Blake let her eyes wander, and shivered. Deery she assumed was wearing the uniform. White flat sneakers, no socks. Orange-pink cargo shorts, which showed off her calves. She had nice calves, Blake thought for a second, before taking in the remainder of the uniform, which was a purple-blue tee shirt with the Pumpkin Pete logo on the left breast.

"Did they give you a uniform?"

"No?"

"Bastards!" Deery swore. "Okay I think we have some spares in the back, but it's just about closing so, once we cash out, we'll get you one. Sound good?"

"Cash out?"

"Yeah. Run end of day reports. Count the cash in the tills, balance the debit machine. Cash out." Deery eyed Blake with her cold soulless eyes. "Did NO ONE give you any training? Who hired you?"

"Bob?"

"Gods damn it Bob! As if I don't have enough on my plate, you send me people to train and on-board too! Son of a bitch!"

"Sorry?"

"Not your fault Blake." Deery patted Blake's shoulder. "We'll get you all set after end of day. Head to the counter. I'll lock up."

"Okay?" Blake was scared. Her a world class assassin. I hired killer was scared of a retail-wage-slave. It was the eyes. Definitely the eyes.

Cash out and end of day went smoothly, though Blake didn't understand half of what was being done. But after that hour of work, she found herself sitting in the staff room, as Deery handed her a uniform, before sitting down.

"So any questions?"

"Um... I don't think this will..."

"PLEASE DON'T!" Deery cried as she grabbed hold of Blake's hands with vice like strength, while tears fell from her now sorrow filled eyes. "PLEASE Don't leave! I'm here alone... all day... I... I... I need help!"

"It can't be..."

"This place is open from mall open to mall close! That's ten hours, not including opening and closing that I'm ALONE!!!" Deery started to bawl, using her ungodly strength to pull Blake from her seat, and into Deery's crushing embrace. "I need help! I can't even take bathroom breaks!"

Blake didn't know what to do. Of course she could kill Deery, and from the sound of it, doing that would probably put the poor girl out of her misery, but that wasn't how Blake conducted business. She prided herself on never having any colleterial damage on her jobs.

"Maybe I can try for one more day?" Blake whimpered out, as Deery was slowly starting to suffocate her.

"Really?" Deery sobbed out, releasing Blake from her deadly embrace. "Really?"

"Yes?" Blake replied, still trying to catch her breath and get the feeling back into her limbs.

"YES!" Deery cheered, jumping from her seat, and pulling Blake off her knees into another crushing hug. Blake was starting to feel like the antler's were fake, and Deery was in fact an Anaconda Faunus. Luckily this hug was not a tight or long.

"So nine... am?" Blake asked hesitantly.

"Wait." The soullessness returned to Deery's eyes. "What training did you have, and what is you schedule?"

"None, and I don't have one?"

"Damn it Bob!" Deery snorted, and then took a calming breath. "Did they tell you anything at head office?"

"No?"

"Okay. Put your stuff in a locker, the key will be taped on the inside of the door."

"Okay?"

"Then we are going to have a little staff slash team meeting at Junior's."

"We are?"

"Yep. We are."

(A/N - I never do much with B lake, so I figured why not. World Class assassin scared into working retail by a desperate and soul broken "co-worker"... what could go wrong? )

[noctisvixen]

I'm debating if I want to get into writing Hermitcraft fics to post on AO3.

Like, I write Hermitcraft fics for myself, they're super unpolished and 90% are abandoned because I know I don't have to finish them and I wanna do a different prompt. Though 7/10, I return to the older ones to add a little more to it because *brain rot*.

But like... What if I did write with the intention to post?? I have AUs that are story exclusive, where they aren't flippin animals. It'd be fun and then at least my AO3 account wouldn't just be blank.

[spacedlexi]

i just remembered that i designed an entire town and was almost done digitally lining my drafts before i just forgot it existed 🤪

[morbethgames]

New Update Is Out!

First and foremost, new update is out! It's kind of a small one, but it's a scene with Hawks where they are debriefing the PC on the case. Lots of variation in those 10k or so words, so you'll probably only see about 2k of it per playthrough.

Well everybody, I had been taking a bit of time. Admittedly, and a bit… embarrassingly… coding like, 30 different variations of Lance's happy-fun-time burnt me out. But, it gave me time to really think about things for the game and scenes that should be in there and where their place in the story is. As well as a scene or two I could probably cut so the game doesn't take another year. It's all about that balance of whether or not you can say a scene happened, versus which scenes need to be shown happening. Maybe it can be added in later, but right now, the priority is definitely the time skip scenes and the main story.

But one thing that is refreshing, and a little scary, is seeing the fact that the first scene for chapter 5 is now set up in the game to start being written in. Chapter 5. The final chapter of the game. It's been 3 years. Now, it's gonna be another few months (few as in upper few) until it's finished because Chapter 5 is going to be the chapter with the most variations yet. Multiple TBI's to code. Multiple endings. Multiple paths. It's gonna be a huge chapter. But I'm gonna be starting it (in between finishing up the time skip scenes of course). It's absolutely wild to think about.

There are gonna be some scenes in the final game that aren't going to be in the demo, so the incentive to purchase the game is still gonna be there, but as of right now, the plan is to fully beta test this game. Including the ending. Because what's important to me is making sure I get it right, and in order to do that, I need people to help test it. Whether or not I'll do that publicly through to the ending here or not is yet to be seen. I may ask a couple people to beta test it in private. I'm honestly not sure yet. Maybe it'll be a patreon thing; who knows?

What I do know is this game has been, and will be until it's finished, a great lesson. I have a habit of starting things and not finishing them. Obviously I wasn't gonna say that before because then people wouldn't be invested in the game. But I think it's quite obvious at this point that I'm absolutely going to finish this project, and that is a huge accomplishment for me. It's proof that I can do something like this and see it through to the end.

But yeah, thanks everyone for continuing to come back and check out the game. Now that the current version of the demo is finished, I'll be posting a bit more on Patreon as well. Snippets and whatnot. I figured since I released the little mini-extra scenes game on there I could take another week or two to focus on finishing this up.

As always, stay brilliant.

-Vi

🛡️Patreon | Forum Page | Demo Link🛡️

[tlbodine]

Stuck? Try junebugging.

I don't know who needs to hear this, but we're 5 days into nanowrimo so maybe this will be helpful.

Do you want the safety and surety of knowing what happens next in your story but can't stick to an outline? Does knowing in advance what will happen suck the joy out of discovery writing? Do you try to wing it through plots but get tangled in plot holes or have a story that runs out of steam because you can't figure out what went wrong? Are you at your most creative when you have a little bit of guidance? Do you tend to under-write? Do you get ideas in your head for random scenes and snippets that drop from the sky without context?

If any of these apply to you, junebugging a draft might be for you!

What Is Junebugging?

Since you're on Tumblr, you might already be familiar with the concept of junebugging as it relates to cleaning. If not -- I think the idea was first introduced to me by @jumpingjacktrash.

The basic idea is that you tackle cleaning by way of controlled chaos. You pick a specific area you want to focus on, like your kitchen sink, and then wander off to deal with other things as they occur to you, but always returning back to that area. You end up cleaning a little bit at a time in an order that may not make sense to an outsider but which keeps you from getting overwhelmed and discouraged.

How Does Junebugging Work in Writing?

OK, so that's great, but how does this work with writing? Well. In my case, the general idea is to jump between writing linearly, outlining, and writing out of order. It usually looks something like:

Start free-writing a scene, feeling my way through it and enjoying the discovery process.

Thinking, ok, now I have this scene, did anything need to happen to lead up to it? Do I need to go back and add some foreshadowing? Does this scene set anything up that needs to be paid off? And then jump forward/back to make those adjustments.

I'll usually have a bunch of disconnected ideas of ideas that have popped into my head, so I'll write those down in a list somewhere and then try to figure out what goes in between them and what order it goes in.

I'll write what I call "micro-scenes" which is where I'll just sketch out a few essential elements of what's going on without worrying too much about details, description, etc. -- just he did this, she said that, the setting was this, real bare-bones script. Then I can come back through and flesh out each of those microscenes into an actual scene later.

Got a story that has a complex structure? No problem. Write through each storyline one at a time and then chop them up and weave them together afterward. Write all the B plot scenes first then come back through to do A plot and C plot. Move the pieces around like legos. No one ever has to know.

This method works for me because I can't "decide" story elements in advance. I have never been able to just sit down and "figure out" what happens in a story beyond a couple steps ahead -- I have to discovery-write my way forward. But at the same time, that gets really daunting. So I zoom forward with micro-scenes, roughing out the beats in the most bare-bones way possible, then when I run out of clear vision for what happens next I backtrack, flesh out those scenes, build in connective tissue, etc. and by then I will probably find more inspiration to jump forward.

It's basically folding drafting, outlining, and revising all together into a single phase of writing, which is chaotic and goes against everything people teach you, but if it works? then it fuckin works.

Anyway, sorry for the jumbled-up post, I'm dashing this off quickly while I heat up a pizza and I'm about to dive back into my WIP -- but I hope this was a little helpful. If nothing else, take this as my blanket permission that it's 100% OK to jump around, write out of order, write messy, outline sometimes, pants sometimes, and do whatever else it takes just to get through the story. You've got this. Good luck.

[d1s1ntegrated]

shiggy with a s/o who’s equally as much of a loser as him :3 like they probably met in a discord vc (he’s the mod) or a league of legends match and he probably hates them at first and then gets a lil crush on them when they helped him mid-game or smth!!

thank u <3

hi love! i am working on a full-length fic where this is literally the entire plot omgomgomg, i'll post a little snippet here!

its still a wip so it wont be perfect but its first person perspective in this part, and i'm thinking of going back and forth between povs to show shig and readers sides equally.

also, reader is fem/afab, same age as shig, and alt. she has a quirk, too (not a healing one either).

this one does include quirks also! but it doesn't get into them for a bit, just a few convos.

some tags for the work entirely: slow burn, enemies to lovers, dabi x reader, shiggy x reader, reader is Not mentally stable, but no one else is either, the server is all the LOV and some others, incel behavior, boys being gross

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

i slide my headset off as we log off for the night and head to my bed, yawning as i climb in. i turn my lamp off and from my bedside table, i hear the infamous chime of discord as my screen lights the room. i groan and roll over, checking the message.

𝔡𝔲𝔰𝔱2𝔡𝔲𝔰𝔱

↪thx 4 playing tn, u weren't half bad

↪btw sorry for threatening to ban u for posting memes in general

i read the messages slowly and type out my response.

𝖙𝖊𝖒𝖕𝖊𝖘𝖙

↪gg dude, and np.

↪promise i wont spam ur precious server w memes again

↪gn bro

i turn my phone back off and close my eyes, only to hear my phone go off again. i sigh, contemplating on ignoring it, but i lazily grab it anyways.

𝔡𝔲𝔰𝔱2𝔡𝔲𝔰𝔱

↪would u ever wanna vid call :)

↪u can say no. its ok

i frown at the message for a minute. this is the same guy who, about an hour ago, was screaming at me for not being fast enough in game, calling me a fucking pleb.

but other than that...he was funny. and nice to talk to.

𝖙𝖊𝖒𝖕𝖊𝖘𝖙

↪for sure, we can tmr.

i type out a half-assed response but feel a ping of excitement inside of me. i fall asleep with my phone on my chest, waiting for a reply.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

i wake up around 1pm, the daylight searing through my curtains. i feverishly reach for my phone, only to find it flung off the bed. i drape myself off the side to reach it, eager to read any messages.

i flit through the random notifications, only to find disappointment. i open up discord, wondering if maybe i just fell asleep with my phone on, but there's no response from him. i see him active and type out a message, ultimately deleting it. if he wants to respond, he will.

i haul myself out of bed and head to the shower, leaving my phone behind, slightly jaded knowing i was left on read. i let the warm water wash over me, soaking up the few minutes of peace before i exit and get dressed. i continue ignoring my phone until i hear a ping. i rush over to it, feeling slightly embarrassed that i'm this concerned already. i open discord again, expecting a message from him, but it's not there. instead, a string of messages from someone else sits unopened. my brows furrow and i open the dm confused.

𝙗𝙡𝙪𝙚𝙛𝙡𝙖𝙢𝙚

↪yo

↪u played ovw w us last night right

↪u should play again tn w me, pretty.

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

again this is just a snippet >_< but i hope it tickles some anticipation ahhhhhhhhh. ik there isnt a lot sorry ;-;

[phyrestartr]

Those Ghosts We Cannot Burn | Dabi x M!Reader

w/c: 1k cw: past trauma, canon-typical Todoroki family, mentions of child abuse, canon-typical violence, graphic language, difficult relationships #Eventual NSFW, bl, dunno who is top/bottom yet lol, hurt/comfort, angst, drama, reader is yakuza, reader and dabi have history, sorta enemies to lovers?? Notes: AAAAH short little snippet but I wanted to post anyway!! I need to get drafts out of my system or I'll go mad lmao...they're all just clogging up my google docs...it's so bad dude OTL so many WIPs

(ALL tags): @kamote-kuneho @tr4nnie @silvern1006

1. Hello, My Past

The bodies of his victims hissed and burned with a life only fire could leave in the path of destruction. Dabi knew it well–he was made the same way, after all. But they'd go on to simply disappear, their ashes fluttering away with the Autumn breeze while he continued to conquer his fate. 

“Hey, you're the one they call ‘Dabi,’ right?” 

The man in question paused, ears perking at that shitty, monotonous tone. Hah. It pissed him off. It made his heart hum, too. Weird.

“Who's askin'?” He drawled, tucking his hands in his pockets as he turned to face you with languid steps. When he caught sight of you in that alleyway, he almost remembered something, but couldn’t find the will to dwell on it.

“I am, on behalf of Shie Hassaikai,” you said, adjusting the cuffs of your jacket. “You've been torching our men, y’know?”

Dabi smiled. “And? You want an autograph or somethin’?” 

You quirked a brow, looked him up and down, and scoffed. “You got a pen? Or, even know how to write in the first place? Don’t look the type.” 

“Oi–”

“Anyway,” you continued, “You wouldn’t be willing to stop murdering ours while our respective leaders discuss their deal, hey?” 

Dabi clicked his tongue. Annoying. “Their deal's got nothing to do with me.” 

“Guess you're not as high up as they said, then.”

“You're a real pain in the ass, y'know?” 

“It's kinda my job.”

“Maybe someone should relieve you from duty.”

A torrent of blue bloomed and crashed through the alley with the vicious hunger of a tsunami. Sparks exploded and flames lashed against stone and concrete, engulfing sky, earth, and all in-between with his show of firepower–a show he never grew tired of, one that never failed to remind him just what he lived for, what he–wait.

He squinted. What the hell?

A bright silhouette stood in the centre of the violent cleansing, wholly unmoved by the villain's flame. It wavered like a candle tousled by the night breeze, but it did not fade away with the light, nor with the wane of fire. And in the aftermath, once the alley fell quiet and dim once again, there it still stood, staring his way with a light that might rival a god's true form.

“You done?” You asked, voice crackling through a veil of blue. 

Thousands of questions and thoughts rushed through his mind–what the hell was that? Who were you? What was your quirk? Why was your fire blue, too?--but he couldn't settle on one, not long enough to spit it out, anyway. 

“I'll consider that a yes,” you decided. Your form re-materialized with a small flourish embers, and you breathed in deep. 

Dabi tried not to let on how bothered he felt. “What the hell was that quirk?” 

“Does it really matter?” You hummed, smiling. “The only thing you need to know is what you just saw–you can't get rid of me. Not with those flames of yours.”

“Hah. You sure about that, pretty boy?” His fingers twitched, eager to try his hand again. “I could crank the heat up for ya, see just how much you can handle.”

“Maybe another time,” you said, half-distracted as you checked your phone. “For now, remember what I said. Our bosses are trying to work together. Don't make this difficult.”

You turned halfway through your thought, showing Dabi your back without a care in the world. You must've really thought you couldn't be hurt by him. You must have really thought you were better than him. You must have. 

But the sirens roaring toward the alley ruined his chance at demolishing you. He could take them on, but he'd rather not deal with the headache that'd follow–heaven knows he'd get reemed by some of the other villains for taking the PR crap too far. 

Fucking prick, Dabi seethed silently. He'd have to kill you some other day. 

–

“Touya,” you called, voice quiet.

The boy next to you, the one you squished into that single bed with whenever nightmares found him, stirred. Only your voice seemed to pull him free from the lull of dreams and nightmares, oddly. 

“Yeah?” He whispered, clearing his throat, grimacing again at the scratchy stiffness to it. 

“Once the doc helps you,” you started, sounding too serious for your age, “I think we should leave.” 

“What?” Touya rubbed sleep from his eyes the best he could without tearing stitches and skin grafts apart. “What the hell is–”

Whatever else he had to say died in his throat when he caught a glimpse of you in the filtered moonlight; your calm, passive look of day had shifted come the night. Your face was kinder, exposing flickers of forbidden thoughts for none but one to see and soon forget, come the beckon of sleep. 

“What the hell's your problem?” Touya breathed. 

Your brows furrowed. “I don't want to be here,” you answered. “Have you even considered trying to go to your family? We could–” 

“I did go back. Nothing's changed.” He smiled, bitter. “Those fucking sheep abandoned me already.”

“I won't abandon you,” you promised suddenly. “We can talk to them. Together. Come on, Touya–” 

Touya laughed a pathetic, little sound. “Are you serious? They don't give a shit about me, they're not gonna give a shit about–do you think you're better than me? More special?” 

Your eyes grew round. “Wh–I never said that.” 

“But you think they'd listen to you, and not me,” he hissed, something igniting the hollow paths of his nerves and revving him back to life. “You think I'm not–”

You covered his mouth with a quick hand, and he held your wrist with a weak grip. “Shut up. You don't know what I think, so–so just shut up.”

I know what you think. And he was determined to prove you wrong, one way or another, even if he had to rip himself apart to do it--but you saw through him so easily. You always did; you always knew how to push his buttons then reset the system before he blew up.

And when you leaned in and kissed the back of your hand, the one still clasped over his mouth, he did indeed reset. Completely braindead once again, he was.

“Forget I said anything,” you huffed, turning your back to him and settling back in. 

And Touya tried to forget, even though his mind buzzed and his heart thudded against his ribs. He tried, and he tried, and he tried.

[cliophilyra]

Fuck It Friday

A not-entirely-brief snippet of Bucktommy post-break-up daddy kink smut (smut not appearing in this clip) inspired by this post by @ohithankyou - thank you so much for the inspiration! 🩷This is very much a WIP so how much of it makes to the final version we shall see...

It's not the first time of course, at this point in his career he has lost his fair share of victims. But it's the first one since. The first one since he'd started thinking that maybe he wouldn't have to face it alone anymore. That next time it happened there would be someone to come home to who understood rather than just sympathised. Someone who would always be there to look after him, care for him, take him out of his own head when he needed it. Someone he could do that for as well. He feels like every atom of his body is crying out for him. He can't stop fucking crying. His throat hurts, he's dragging in lungfuls of air like he's drowning. He feels like he is. He pushes the call button before he can convince himself not too. The phone rings, he stops breathing, finger hovering. He's just about to end the call, telling himself he's a mess, a basket case, pathetic, when a voice says, "hello?" and Buck feels like his whole chest has been ripped open, the air is gone from his lungs and someone is squeezing his throat in a fist. He tries to speak but he chokes, tears brimming over. The only word he can get out is, "Daddy…" before the sobs come again. He hears a sharp intake of breath on the other end of the line but Tommy's voice is soft. "I'll be right there," he says before he hangs up. Buck chokes again and a sound somewhere between a cry and a laugh of relief bubbles out of his throat. ______

It seems like only moments before there's a knock at the door. Buck gets up on shaky legs and navigates the stairs as carefully as he can while wanting to take them three at a time and also to stay at the top forever. He pauses with his hand on the door handle. Is this a terrible idea? It's a terrible idea. He is pathetic. This is not Tommy's problem anymore. He shouldn't have to put up with this. A smaller voice in the back of his head says, he doesn't have to put up with this anymore. But he's here anyway. He reaches out and opens the door. Tommy looks the way Buck looks when he sees himself in the mirror. There are dark circles under his eyes. His cheekbones are a little more prominent than when he last saw him. Buck has a million things he wants to say. He opens his mouth and instead of any of the words in his head all that comes out is a wracking sob. Tommy steps forward immediately and pulls him into his arms. "Oh my sweet boy, it's ok, daddy's got you. Daddy's got you sweetheart."

Tagging the usual suspects :) @rdng1230 @bucksbignaturals @nine-one-wanton @thecarrott @louisferrignojr

@leandra-kinard @bangpop91 @wikiangela @peppermintquartz @epiphainie

@judymarch15 @thatmexisaurusrex @marvelousbuckley @desert--moonchild @rubydaiquiri

@theotherbuckley @hardly-an-escape @daddy-kinard @aplaceinme @racerchix21

(Apologies to anyone I've missed - a lot of names have changed recently and I am too old to remember who's who now)

[httpiastri]

okay so i started writing on a boyfriend!paul blurb for after the race today, but then i deleted it and wrote this instead: a short snippet of a future chapter of the "the way i loved you" fic 😋 pretty short but it's all i can produce rn lol. will likely have some changes when i post the actual chapter. aiming to post the first things from the fic soon !!! hope u enjoy 😚

series masterlist

paul is beaming when you see him stroll back to the paddock after his media duties. his cap is perched on top of his head – the right cap, finally – and his fingers are still tightly wrapped around the neck of his champagne bottle. when he notices you leaning against the doorframe leading into the f2 hospitality, his smile grows even bigger.

you meet him halfway, arms wrapping around his shoulders easily, just like they have so many times before. one of his arms drapes around your waist and he holds you close, a hum vibrating from his chest. "congrats, paul," you tell him. "that was amazing. you were amazing."

"thank you," he says before pausing. then, he lets out a chuckle. "to be honest, i wasn't sure if you would care."

you frown at him when you pull slightly away from him, just enough to look into his eyes. is that what he really thought? that you wouldn't care about his driving? "oh, please. you still mean a lot to me, okay?" your hand moves down to his upper arm, giving it a soft squeeze. "i still consider you to be one of my closest friends."

friends. the word stings like a knife in his heart. it's been months since you broke up, and yet, it still feels like a raw wound.

paul forces a smile. he understands that despite how painful it is, there's something good in it. there's still a place for him in your heart, even if he's forced to share it with someone else.

he pulls you in again, and the hug is even tighter now than before. it's a comforting feeling; you're both at peace, with a good weekend behind you, in the arms of someone so close to you. after everything you've gone through together, but especially everything he has gone through these last few months with the mercedes academy and so on, you're finally through to the other side. "it all worked out in the end, huh?" you ask after a few moments of silence.

"i guess it did." you part from each other to leave that oh-so-familiar gap between you yet again. "will you be celebrating with us tonight? i think pepe had something planned. you know how he is."

you snort. "yeah, i do know. maybe i will." you shift uncomfortably, crossing your arms over your chest as your eyes dart to the ground. "but, um... i'll have to check with..."

you don't even say his name – you don't have to. ollie didn't just have a bad race today; the entire weekend has been so far from everyone's expectations. and if you know him correctly, he will not be in the mood for celebrations tonight.

paul just nods slowly, pressing his lips into a thin line. "right."

the silence that follows is so awkward you can't help but chew on your bottom lip, a tiny sigh escaping through your mouth. he must be hating this, you think – today is supposed to be only a good day for him, he shouldn't have his ex's new relationship pushed up in his face.

"well, i have a debrief to get to," you make up, flashing him a quick smile. "congrats again, paul."

"thank you." he gives you another nod, before turning away and making his way towards the paddock. "pepe will text you!"

and just like that, he's off, and your mind wanders to the thought of actually going out to celebrate. ollie will definitely not join you, though you're not sure why you don't want to go without him. is it because you'd rather stay and comfort him?

or is it because you're scared of what you'll do, or feel, when you're alone with paul for the first time since you broke up?

[perksofbeingpoet]

hiii dps community, we're getting into official poet season!!! this is just your reminder that streaming movies is responsible for a big amount of co2 emissions, so if possible, maybe get a dvd from the library instead of streaming dps this autumn! i totally understand if it's financially not possible and i don't wanna blame anyone, but if you're one of the fans who like to watch these poets over and over, getting the dvd will not only be good for the planet but also for you as you can cradle it in your arms and call it "my precious". let's try to cut back on streaming so that future generations will also be able to go into the woods to live deliberately <3333

sorry for the serious topic, i'll go back to posting little poet snippets soon!! just wanted to share this :)

[suzukiblu]

Been looking through your assorted aus page and the link for "weird amnesia Timberkon"/"for the game young" is broken (as in, the tag does not appear to exist). It seems like you put a lot of time into that page so I figured you'd want to know (and also selfishly I am very interested in finding out what weird amnesia timberkon entails)

WHOOPS, my bad, messed that one up. Should be all fixed on the page now, though! Oddly I only seem to have one teeny lil' snippet up for that AU, to my surprise, could've sworn I'd posted more? Sooooo as thanks for catching that busted link for me, have a nice big chunk of the WIP behind this read-more, hah.

So Superboy is apparently an idiot. Then again, whatever, if Bernard were an indestructible telekinetic half-alien he would probably also not worry too much about looking subtle in his civvies or maintaining a secret identity, and also it's been a while since he's heard anything about the guy doing any active superheroing anyway so maybe Superboy is just assuming that the entire planet somehow forgot about his teen heartthrob superhero posters and all those close-up high-def publicity shots of his very public face and whatever? Oh, and also that one time that he literally fucking died to save the whole freaking world and the big ol' memorial statue. Statues? There might've been two, come to think. 

So maybe an idiot. 

A very hot idiot, though. 

Well, whatever, Bernard figures, taking a sip of his boba tea and idly watching Superboy check out his boyfriend from the far side of the cafe like he's a sad puppy in a shop window who just wants a little love. Tim is looking at his phone and appears oblivious to Superboy's existence. 

Bernard assumes Tim's doing that thing where he pretends to not be Robin, for obvious reasons. That thing remains adorable but is getting increasingly less convincing as time goes on. Like, he really doesn't know what Tim actually thinks he thinks he does in his downtime? There is no logical reason for a civilian to be either as ripped or as scarred as Tim Drake is, but part of being Tim Drake's boyfriend is pretending to be oblivious to those facts and also never questioning his flimsy excuses to run off at a moment's notice or disappear during a crisis or whatever else. 

Bernard tries to figure out how to politely extricate himself from the situation for long enough for Tim to go check up on Superboy, because Superboy very clearly needs to be checked up on. Unfortunately he went to the bathroom like ten minutes before the guy walked in all sad-puppy so the obvious option is out, and Tim knows damn well he isn't gonna call his parents for anything less than a full-on emergency, and his friends it'd be weird not to just text, and . . . fuck, he doesn't know. He needs an angle here. 

"I'll be right back, babe, just gotta duck into the bathroom real quick," Tim says, glancing up from his phone with an apologetic smile. Bernard relaxes slightly. Okay, that works, thank you, Bat-planning. Superboy can just follow Tim back to the bathroom and they can do whatever superhero sidebar they need to do back there. 

But then Tim gets up, gives him a peck on the cheek, and heads back to the bathroom, and Superboy . . . doesn't follow him. 

The hell? 

Bernard represses a frown and takes another sip of his boba. Superboy continues not to follow Tim. He just sits there at his own little table with his completely untouched drink, looking like the saddest puppy that has ever sadded. 

Bernard is mystified. 

Are they having a fight, maybe? Is Tim ignoring Superboy because of that, not the secret ID stuff? That seems weird and not very Tim-like, fighting or not. But Superboy's in Gotham and came into the cafe after they did, so he can't be the one avoiding Tim. But also he didn't follow him to the bathroom when presented with the very unsubtle opportunity to do so, so . . . what the hell? 

Weird. 

Bernard takes yet another sip of boba and keeps watching Superboy. Superboy seems oblivious to said watching, but he guesses the guy is pretty famous and is a very public superhero and is always doing impressive shit and all that, so he's probably used to being watched. Oh, and also he's stupid, stupid hot. 

Bernard cannot imagine being this used to attention, but apparently Superboy is. Bernard, of course, is not a punk idol superhero built like a porn star and a supermodel had a threeway with a bodybuilder. So like, that particular bit of mental dissonance probably makes sense and all. Life experiences are not universal, and all that. 

Especially not when the life experience one is comparing oneself to started in a cloning tube. 

Well, it's not like it's a burden for Bernard to have a free pass on checking out a hottie while he waits for Tim to come back from, presumably, waiting for Superboy to come and talk to him. Which Superboy is just . . . not doing, still. Inexplicably. 

Still, sad puppy or not, Superboy's civvies look damn good on him, so that's something. Bernard's enjoying them, like as an aesthetic experience and everything. Superboy's wearing an unbuttoned red flannel shirt with rolled-up sleeves over a very tight black tank top and even tighter light wash skinny jeans that are bafflingly intact, considering the fact that a dude with Kryptonian-level super-strength is currently vacuum-sealed into them. 

Does tactile telekinesis work on skinny jeans? Is that a thing? Like, are Superboy's jeans currently indestructible? 

That sounds amazing, actually. 

Also, those buckled-up black leather boots he's wearing look like they could straight-up kill a dude, Kryptonian power-assist or not. And the shiny mirrored sunglasses and ridiculous multitude of even shinier gold piercings all suit the guy, somehow, and even without looking like too much. 

Relatedly, Superboy's tank top is very, very tight. 

Also relatedly, his nipples are apparently pierced. 

And so is his belly button, it looks like. 

Ngh. 

Superboy's vacuum-sealed jeans are not quite tight enough for Bernard to figure out if he's got any below the spike-studded belt piercings, but his imagination is happy to fill in the blanks there. He's tempted to ask for Tim's theories on the existence of any such piercings, because yeah Superboy has super-hearing but Bernard has no shame and Tim logically should know, buuuuut he's still pretending not to know Tim is Robin so yeah, probably he shouldn't do that. 

He could start a new conspiracy board for it, maybe. That'd be fun. 

Superboy also has leather cuffs on his wrists and mismatched rings and necklaces and a really hot fade haircut that is noticeably windswept, and really, really looks like something that Bernard would like to see somebody dig their fingers into. Just–look, there's curls. Bernard cannot be blamed for curls. 

And he's trying not to eye the cuff bracelets too much, but they provide very nice inspiration for a certain style of kinky thoughts. Not that Superboy couldn't snap basically any set of cuffs that wasn't made of kryptonite or promethium or like a magical kryptonite-promethium alloy or whatever without even trying, obviously, but like, somehow the thought of the guy having to restrain himself more than anything else makes the whole mental image hotter? Like, somehow? 

Bernard pictures Superboy wearing a pair of cheap flimsy sex toy handcuffs and trying very, very hard to keep himself in them while someone else takes very careful inventory of all his piercings, wherever and whatever they all just so happen to be. 

Jesus. Yeah, there's a thought. 

Is it weird to consider flirting up your boyfriend's superhero bestie while he's badly pretending to be a civilian, Bernard wonders? Is that a thing? 

Probably, but he still has no shame and is also in an open relationship, so whatever. 

Hell, who knows, in retrospect maybe Tim actually arranged this setup specifically for Bernard to get an eyeful of his work crush. Like, Bernard always felt like Robin and Superboy had some significant UST going back in the day. Maybe Tim wants to finally do something about that, and the setup idea sounds like a very "Bat" approach to doing said something. And it'd explain why Superboy didn't follow Tim to the bathroom and maybe even why he's coming across kind of anxious right now, if he's trying to psych himself up to come over or something. Like, if he's nervous about making a good impression, though Bernard cannot imagine why he ever would be. Well, not like Supers are known for their undercover skills, so . . . 

Either way, if that's the plan, Bernard is very fine with it, so he decides to go find out for himself and picks up his drink to head over and chat the guy up. Worst case scenario, he’s just gotten his hopes up a little, he figures. Best case, he’s putting Superboy out of his “oh god, how do I do undercover” misery. 

"Mind if I sit?" he asks, and flashes Superboy a grin as he gestures at the empty seat at the other half of his table. Superboy looks weirdly startled, like he somehow expected to go unnoticed despite being a literal superhero who is also unspeakably hot and is also wearing very, very tight clothes that he's this close to busting out of. Like, at least half a dozen girls are actively checking him out right now, as is the dude behind the counter and the old guy on the sidewalk outside who’s busy badly pretending to be reading the outdoor menu board instead of checking out Superboy’s ass through the front window. 

So yeah, Bernard really does not understand that apparent assumption. 

Come to think, maybe Superboy has some self-esteem issues or something. Bernard admittedly might also have self-esteem issues if he were Superman's clone. Then again, if he were Superman's clone, he would look like Superman and also be very aware of how Superman himself looks, sooooo . . . 

Seriously, "younger and sexier punk rock Superman" is not a vibe that Bernard can imagine going ignored all that often. Or ever. 

“Uh–what?” Superboy says. 

“I’ve been temporarily abandoned by my boyfriend and I’m easily bored,” Bernard clarifies politely, though obviously Superboy was staring at Tim long enough to have noticed said abandonment the moment it happened. “So, mind if I sit?” 

“I–sure?” Superboy says, looking nervous. Bernard puts another tally in the “too bad at undercover work to follow the Bat-plan” column. Whatever, the guy’s trying his best, he’s not gonna judge him. 

There's a pin on the inside of Superboy’s flannel, Bernard notices as the other shifts awkwardly in his seat, and is vaguely puzzled by the sight of it. Like, it's just a little thing and he doubts he'd have even seen it if he weren't in this close to the guy, but . . . 

Just–yeah. Little pin. Just like a cheap little round button, like the kind that comes out of the dollar bin at all sorts of random stores. And it's hidden inside Superboy's flannel, mostly, but it's definitely got the S-shield on it. 

Bernard is perplexed. Even in Gotham, it's not like it's weird to see people wearing Superman merch. So like, why is Superboy hiding that?

“Cool,” he says as he files that away as a little oddity, and takes the empty seat. Superboy continues to look nervous. Bernard continues to work on figuring out if his weird Bat-boyfriend who he’s not supposed to know is a Bat set him up on a blind date with his superhero bestie. The nervousness supports the theory, anyway. 

Man, this dude really is even prettier up close. How was he Tim’s bisexual awakening with this guy around and in close quarters with him? Like, he’s flattered, don’t get him wrong, but also maybe Tim has some vision problems and he should get that checked out before it inconveniences his nightlife. 

"Sooooo like . . . what do I call you?" Bernard asks, peering across the table at him curiously. "Because the obvious option seems like a bad idea, obviously.” 

"‘The obvious option’?" Superboy stops looking nervous long enough to look confused instead. 

"Yeah?" Bernard says, cocking his head. Superboy cannot possibly think he’s being subtle here, so . . . "I mean, I assume you don't go by 'Superboy' when you're dressed like that. Like, that's the whole point of being dressed like that, right?" 

Superboy stares blankly at him. Bernard cocks his head the other way, now officially the confused one. 

"What?" Superboy says. 

"Okay, sorry, this is the thing where you-know-who still insists on pretending he's not Robin, isn't it," Bernard realizes, which he really should've realized would be a thing from the start. He supposes that makes sense even with Superboy’s total lack of subtlety, though, superheroes probably do have to really commit to that thing. Especially ones who work for Batman and Superman. Or . . . just around Superman, maybe? Bernard is not fully clear on that particular superhero hierarchy. "My bad. So, uh, what do I call you, because there is obviously no obvious option. Obviously.” 

"You . . . recognize me?" Superboy croaks. 

"Uh," Bernard says, brow furrowing in bemusement at the very weird expression the guy's currently wearing. "Yes? No offense, you're kind of recognizable. Like, do you even have a secret identity? I mean, you're a clone, right, and I know you were just doing the full-time hero thing in at least Hawaii, so I actually have no idea if you ever bothered making one up or not?” 

"You recognize me," Superboy chokes, just staring at him, and then bursts into tears. 

. . . well, that can't be good.

[shutupheathersorryheatherr]

"I think youre like, super duper cool-- a morning with Kai”

✰---Summery: a snippet in time for the two of you, though something like this happens too often to count. A soft and fluffy but fortifying morning with him to remember that all started with him fiddling with the straps and hems of your shirt… speaking of night clothes… there might be a surprise for him waiting underneath

✰---A/N: um so this was supposed to have been out like an eternity ago but life has really been killing me lately so I apologize. Writing is good though and I really love it. I say this every time I post a fic but I’m not sure how good this is :( I originally wanted kai to eat out the reader in this fix but alas, I did not get to it

✰---Warngingz/info: kissing, morning sex, unestablished relationship, like you can take it however you want in this, fingering, hanjob, reacher is gn! other than having a vagina, reader kisses Kai’s freckles/moles, Kai is pussy drunk? idk maybe he is in this, kai asks you to put just the tip in, kai loves the readers tummy thats pretty evident in this fic, spelling mistakes I'll get to them eventually.... think thats it but (it just autocorrected me to 'nut'....) I think thats it! please feel free to let me know if there's anything else!

~this is simply a piece of fiction. My imagination onto “paper.” This is in no way is mean to be taken as an actual and real representation of anyone.~

••••••••••••••

THIS IS SMUT! PLEASE HAVE AN AGE INDICATOR IN YOUR BLOG SAYING YOU ARE NOT A MINOR IF YOU ARENT OR ELSE I WILL BE BLOCKING YOU!!!!

The sun hits the front of your lidded eyes, burning them, but wanting, and now apparently waking you up at the same time. Kai shifts behind you, little puffs of breathing out tickling your neck. You finally open your eyes to look where at the state of the man currently latched onto your back. You feel him fiddling with the straps of your tank top absentmindedly, fingers ever so often brushing against your newly exposed skin.

Your desire to nod back off quickly fades when he takes a long breath-- something he always does when he wakes. Now, too excited to ask him in a moment if he's had any dreams, your sleepiness fades into just being calm with him. He circles his arms around your tummy, the pads of his soft and nearly hot with blush and toasty from just returned to the land of the living. it was weird... but something he always took notice of; the way all of his best sleeps were always with you. it wasn't like he couldn't sleep on his own, but when he did he woke up feeling as tired as he was when he laid down, or like they just didnt hit the same way as when he was with you

like he was now, with one of his arms falling asleep with you laying on top of it. but really, he wouldn't want it any other way. You put your hands over his, grasping them tightly almost in an awkward handshake. "So no good morning? no hi, how are you? just trying to brake my hand I see." His voice is groggy, raspy, coming from the back of his throat. You chuckle, and he feels like the sleep instantly is gone from his eyes.

"I was obviously helping you!" You protest, "I was giving feeling back into your arms."

"Why both of my arms then, huh?" his voice lowers, getting suspicious. "I have to show love to each of them." "By breaking them...?" You can feel his eyebrow raise. "mmhm." you say definitely. "Oh, very nice of you then." he snickers

He kneads your tummy gently. the soft skin on his making the both of you break a smile. Only for a moment though, until you feel coolness envelope you instead of warmth as before. Cause now he's getting up, blanket wrapped around his entire body and running to the other side of the bed. he flops down next to you, facing you and making the blanket billow around him like a cape. Now youre both engulfed in it. light from the curtains casting a glow on each of your faces through the blanket. "What? You were pushing me off the bed." You inch closer to him. "Oh, so it was that then, not you wanting to cuddle with me?" he nuzzles his face not your neck, hands already traveling to their rightful place where your hips and waist/ tummy meet. big hands warm you as he speaks into your neck: "mmhm, yeah that, and.... " he draws out the article, though you know what and was going to say and he does "I wanted to see you."

"reasonable." you smile.

"Really?" his smirk is coming through his lips, teeth, and mouth and his voice drips with it. And right now, youre not sure how to deal with it as youre drawn closer and closer to him like a magnetic pull is the only thing that's controlling you. Once youre close enough to feel each others rapid heart beats and close enough where if you just inched in... just a little bit, your lips would be on his neck and you could feel his pulse. you finally speak, "yeah, of course you did. I don't know if youve noticed but im like, pretty amazing." his tongue darts out to lick his lips and smiles. he starts rubbing at your skin again. well, more like brushing it, making you suppress some sort of laugh because its starting to tickle but still.

"Ive noticed, though!" he protests, face still in your neck, voice gentle because of your proximity. "am I that predictable?" you shake your head yes. (he does this almost every morning that you two wake up like this.)

"Im not accusing you--" "yeah yeah, I know but" he straightens his back, looking at you in the eyes now. "what if I happen to think that youre like... super duper cool?" a wide smile creeps onto his face, his eyes crinkling and his cheeks swell as he says the last few words. he draws in a short breath and continues: "and nice, and beautiful, and wonderful. and a whole lotta other things I know anyone who spends a bunch of time with you and who you know..." he cocks his head from side to side, thinking about how he was going to word what he wanted to convey. "...know about you, but I don't really know how to express right now."

You laugh with him. something similar to thing happens a lot between the two of you-- him wanting, no, needing to tell you how he knows how amazing you are, but either not being able to express himself or tripping over his own words. you barely ever paid any mind to it, though. and not in a "its the thought that counts" type of way, either. you might've not fully understood what he was trying to say, but the way he gazed into your eyes, brightness filling them, then looks away, then back at you, rose pigment in his face now.... god, did that tell you all you needed to know.

"hm," you hum, "I think youre supper duper cool too." he raises his head to place a quick peck on your lips. you would've kissed him back if he'd just give you a second. A moment of silence later and it leads to him pressing, almost poking his nose against your previously cold but now warm with the heat crawling into your face and he doubles down on his statement. "Im serious though--" you chuckle even though you can hear the weight in his tone. "So am I." and youre just as serious as him. you mouth a thank you nonetheless. "I-I'm serious though, I don't think anyone in their right mind could miss how amazing you are."

Two things, about this interaction: one,) you can joke about it all you want but, he thinks, you really are perfect. and two) no matter what he says about it, you really do think its cute how he's stumbling over his words. "Glad we're on the same page."

All the while you two have been talking, his hands are moving mere fractions of an inch up and down, up and down, down and-- now hes rubbing almost tickling circles right next to your navel. each stroke of your torso getting longer and longer. you fiddle with the waistband of his boxers until he goes far down enough to notice youre not wearing any underwear. the schooled look on his face makes you laugh as you both emerge from the little makeshift blanket fort you two have stretched over the beautiful expanse of his shoulders.

"oh, im sorry." he bites the inside of his cheek nervously and gulps, raises his hands off you. "what'r you sorry for? I thought you wanted to..." you move his hand back to where it was on the top of your ass. "touch me here?" "well I did-- I do." he corrects himself, but he keeps on rambling. "I just wasn't expecting-- and I dunno if you wanted to since-- oh, what?" He suddenly breaks a smile, his nervousness fading away when he sees you silently chuckling at him. "thisis making your brain short circuit is see. hm, I should let you know when im sleeping without them more often, don't you think?" his eyes go wide again. "you mean you do this frequently and I just don't know?" he leans back a little, eyes darting around, seemingly genuinely pondering this.

Your hands hover over his chest, warmth radiating off you onto his skin. he gently squeezes your ass and your back stiffens, chill going up your spine. "I can't find the words so" he draws out the last word, trailing off, "can I?" he dips his eyes to where the hem of your oversized T-shirt, (already bunched up in the back from him kneading your ass,) hits your upper thighs.

He drags the fabric up and you have half a mind to tell him to get on with it already. and what feels like forever later, hes dipping his thump into his mouth, wetting it with his salivating tongue. then he brings it down to your clit. he starts rubbing at it, warm air surrounding the small bud because of how deep you are under the covers. An electric shock runs up and back down your spine at the contact he makes with now two of his fingers pressing right were youre aching for him. "oh--" you cut your own self off knowing that what;; come our of you will only be incoherent mess.

You can't see what hes doing, he can't either and although that worrying him a little bit its making the experience that much more heightened for the both of you. this way, you can stare lovingly into his eyes and see the little movements his mouth makes, slightly opening here and there, when he gains a beautiful reaction out of you or he gets a little overwhelmed at the feeling of your warm and wet pussy on his fingers. and this way he can focus on all the sounds you make, wishing to bottle up the sound and get drunk on all your moans and hisses of pleasure.

You might not be able to see, but fuck, you sure can hear and feel. as he switches from rubbing at your clit and dripping hole to finger fucking you at that pace that drives you insane, the lewd sounds youre making together is fucking perfect--- music to your ears, even. its wet and mess, hes sloppy and almost desperate for the sighs of pleasure you make, or for that look in your eyes that lets him know youre about to be in the throws of ecstasy around his fingers... cumming for him. all for him. and all because of him. the groans aloud at the thought-- him being the(only) one making you feel this good, him brining you to your high so damn well. and he knows its selfish but a part of him wants to make you cum so good and so often that youre ruined for anyone else. so that the only fingers besides your own that you know could make you feel this good are his. the only tongue good enough for you? his.

it was like his cock and your cunt were made for each other... and that made him shiver in pleasure at the thought. you didnt miss the way he was like this, though. the way his pupils dilated and his jaw clenched at times like these were a tell tale sign.

Hes sloppy with his movements a bit but has just how you two like it. so wonderful he swears that if he could, he'd encapsulate the sounds and feelings that come from this and you and stuff himself full with it to delirium everyday. And if you could, you’d surely do the same. Especially with his grunts and whimpers. God you loved those.

His fingers were already fucking so deep inside you, like you could feel his fingers curl, almost, it feels like in your fucking guts. then, you think, imagine how otherworldly his rock hard cock would be. You can feel him grazing it up and down your thigh, trying not to make it too obvious but grinding his hard on into your plush skin none the les. He occasionally bumps into his own arm the more time goes on and the more desperate he’s getting with his movements. You bring the thigh he’s doing this to up a little further as he thrusts his fingers in and out of your pussy, you’re slick forming a thick ring around the base of his fingers, dripping deliciously onto his hand.

he breathes out a grunt, barely audible to either of you. And that’s when you couldn’t take it anymore. You tug at the waist and of his boxers, his warm abdomen on your knuckles. You look up at him and before you can get the words out he’s already begging “yeah— you can. Please—“ his words come out choppy, up and down in volume but you don't care. You slip them down, too wrapped up in him touching you and you about to touch him that you don’t get them any further than his thighs. The same thighs you have dreams about— dragging yourself on them till you cum with his big hands digging into your hips, sucking hickies on them as he lets out little sighs and as his hands don’t know where to go, the list goes on.

All you wanted was him a close to you as humanly possible, with your hand gripping the full weight of him and your thumb rubbing over, almost teasing his sensitive, leaking tip. You use your spit that's mixing with his precum to let you slide up and down the length of him. He rocks into your hand, same as you to his, trying to find release. And you start to get annoyed even though at this point hes flattened out his hand, your juices oozing out onto it as his palm rubs circles onto your clit.

His fingers are starting to go slower, and deeper if that was humanly possible. but thats not why you were getting annoyed-- kai, even with how he prettily threw his head back with an open mouth in pleasure and then forward again, grunting almost into your collarbone, the rest of him wasn't staying still. he was wriggling and writhing, uncoordinated thrusts into your hand and his have breathing make you lean in for a kiss and surprisingly your teeth don't clang together.

hes still moving around too much and you realize it'd be nearly impossible to get him to cum like this. So you bring you hand off him, ignoring, just for a moment, his whines in protest, chasing after your palm like how you just chased after his lips. You gently snap the elastic waistband against his abdomen as a reminder to calm down-- to get him focused again

At this point, the two of you are halfway sitting up and halfway laying down. Not the most comfortable position but you barely care as you can feel the beautiful pit in your stomach growing and he brings you closer to sweet relief. your mouth goes agape as he rubs you a little faster. You clench around his fingers and all he can think about is how tight you'd feel around him, creaming on his cock. Youre no better, though. with your thoughts of how big you'd know he'd be inside you, because lets be honest here, its not the laying on your side facing him thats making it hard to pump his dick.

You run your thumb along the vein on the underside of his cock and his legs still then quake. Your back arches into his touch. it's all getting too much for you-- you and him pleasuring the other with your hands at the same pace. and as your eyes flutter close because fuck, that face hes making is gonna make you cum if you keep on staring at it, you can feel it. almost like hes fucking into you for real; doesn't help that hes so close to your thighs either.

"I wan' you to cum for me. I love to hear you and feel you and--"

maybe hes rambling, but its cute none the less and that makes you regain full feeling and conciseness, now being able to will your hand to glide over his slippery cock faster, You feel yourself being tipped over the edge.

Your toes curl, his heart rate jumps as you let go of his dick, brining your hand to his wrist to hold him right where you need him. you couldn't focus on anything else at the moment, you felt like he was bringing your body to heaven-- like you were fucking ascending. His lips were on yours in a flash, kissing you like it was his last as you continue humping his palm to ease through your orgasm.

You cum with a muffled curse into his chest as you fall perfectly into him. you really are made for each other, huh?

"God, you look so beautiful when you cum. your face is buried in his collarbone and your hands-- they're gonna be the death of him tonight, hes sure of it. one's rubbing slow petel-in-the-breeze-soft circles on in wrist, and the other is over his heartbeat on his chest. it wasn't anything even that sexual if his dick wasn't out and his fingers weren't soiled with your cum.

you sink yourself deeper into his neck and chuckle. "Im guessing so beautiful that you dont even notice how I dropped your dick?" you blink at him, your lashes tickling his sensitive skin.

He can't even respond before youre kissing the mole on his neck, sucking a small mark there as he lets out little "ah-ah~" next to your ear, before moving up to the one on his jaw... then the one on the other side... then the next, and then next all while watching the little red mark on his neck fade until finally youre at the beginning of his chest. and now your hand his back on him and he feels like hes gonna actually die.

how did he deal with this before? maybe its the way the sheets smell all fresh and comforting, or the way his eyes are still drowsy with sleep and the perfect golden hour light hitting and warming the room just right, or maybe the way you were just around his fingers a moment ago... but whatever it was, he felt his release rapidly approaching.

You kiss him to swallow up the sounds hes making, knowing how his tip bumping against you, nearly tapping your pussy but catching your thighs, wet with your own cum and dampened with sweat is getting to be too much for him just as it was like for you a bit ago. he craved this maybe a little bit too much; your bodies melting together, becoming one. and he really can't hold it in anymore.

"I need-- just the tip, ok? I need to feel you around me. jus' the tip, thats all" his voice comes out with labored breathing and thats all you need to hear, sliding his tip in between your dripping folds. your hand stroking what you can't fit and dipping his head in and out of your hole. not much, just enough to get him addicted to the feeling. at this point hes doing most of the work for you; moving so that his cock slides up and down your cunt, and youre revealing in it as much as you are. with him smoothing over and rubbing your clit, giving you the satisfaction of some much needed friction and the beautiful full feeling of his cock-- even just a little bit is driving you crazy. and the overwhelming want to shove all of him into you, stuffing you full on him? otherworldly. making you have to physically stop yourself from fulfilling your want, no, need, to have him fully inside.

and the way your teeth poke out of your mouth as it opens in pleasure? he feels like hes basking, wishing to drown himself in your pussy. he kisses you urgently, like fire surges through him, pouring himself and his emotions out for you, spilling himself all over your hand as your slow down your strokes, dick throbbing in your hand. your pussy convulsing around noting as he comes down from his high.

The both of your breathing slows, his whines and grunts of pleasure turn into a smile as he looks into your eyes. he reaches over to the nightstand, effectively putting his chest in your face. He plops back down a second later with a couple tissues and grabs your wrist from under the blanket still and does his best to clean it off.

Its silent as he does this, but the good kind. not awkward or dead. but comfortable like it always is with him. it wasn't until then that the both of you realized how much he came. Yeah... he was gonna need another tissue. You peck his lips at the thought and sight but he starts to wonder how the fuck that happened. You really do do wonders to him, he thinks.

He finishes cleaning his own hand next then balls up the tissues before throwing them on the floor. they could be worried about later. he brings you close to him, all he ever wanted, really; to be close enough that his heartbeat syncs with yours and that he smell the sex coming off you... feel the warmth of your skin on his.

His hands find their rightful places at your hips and tummy. Youre almost nodding off again when--

"oh I forgot to ask you!" you nearly shriek at him "did you have any dreams?" the knowing smile that creeps up onto his face tells you all you need to know. "yeah... n' maybe they were about you..." he circles you waist and brings you closer, smirk on your face as he starts sucking on your neck. "oh? just maybe?" you try to keep your composure.

A/N: hope you enjoyed! if you did, please leave some love like comments or reblogs! and please send some asks-- both hard and soft hours are open!

taglist: @itz-yerin

©️2023copyrightofshutupheathersorryheatherr do not repost, translate, or plagiarize my works even if you give me credit

[megamuscle885-blog]

Severed - Worm Fanfiction Review

CW: Suicide and canon typical gore.

I don't think I've so eagerly anticipated an imaginary and, likely unwritten at the time of this post, scene in fanfiction than @heyitschartic's Severed. I've been following this series since it was posted three years ago. I'll avoid spoilers and the scene I'm imagining in question will be under the cut, but the basic premise is that Jack Slash chooses Skitter as his nominee during the Slaughterhouse 9 arc, rather than Oni Lee, who was disappointing, and Golem, who he later contrived the entire S9k arc for.

I will say that this work is a beautiful plunge into What Ifs which look all the more horrifying if you compare them against canon. You get flashback snippets of the S9 arc retold from a few perspectives before being thrust into post-GM, maybe pre-Ward? era with modern Skitter. I can certainly say that Severed blows all other S9!Taylors out of the water, Taylor is authentic in ways I haven't seen with anyone else. 10/10, each chapter is at it's absolute peak and it has 11 chapters as of this post. Each gut-punch has me anticipating the next chapter, only for the next chapter to explain why Taylor's friends and enemies hate her so much. I gasped when Tattletale said that to her. I strongly recommend Severed to anyone and everyone who hasn't already read it yet. Here's the link:

Oh wait does this count as the first of my Worm fanfic reviews--

So, I've read chapter 11 and I've been having Taylor and her clone rotating in my head endlessly, but the scene I'm anticipating is the one hinted at in Chapter where Defiant wants Taylor to go under the knife with Bonesaw again so Riley can fix all of Taylor's everything that is physically wrong with her, because her body is practically bio-tinkertech, even after they ripped almost everything else out.

I can only imagine Taylor reiterating that she refuses to be put under for the procedure, and using every moment to vent her anger and frustration on a Riley that is likely seeing marked improvement in her therapy (maybe). But Taylor keeps hitting her with blow after blow. "They'll never let you work on anyone else ever again, so you had better not kill me." and "Nobody will ever let you willingly touch them, I'm the only one who you can use your tinker abilities on, and that can change if I don't need you anymore." "If you ever find someone you can trick into letting you touch them, hold them, or even work on them, I'll kill them. It'd be better than the fate worse than death that letting you touch someone inflicts, and I should know, I'm living through it."

Maybe Chartic has something else planned, but I would like to see this Bonesaw cry. An unshakable, unmoved Taylor just heaps on the abuse through her own tears of pain, holding Riley hostage even as she roots through her guts to put her back together. It's very Taylor to fight through pain to force people to help her. The last time they saw each-other, Riley was doing well. I don't think she'll be doing very well after they meet again.

Maybe an overseeing team of surgeons and Capes become increasingly uncomfortable as Riley is tormented. They find themselves defending Bonesaw of all people, from one of her former victims too.

I'm sorry if this is unsolicited Chartic, but I can't wait to see their reunion, whatever form it takes. Severed's way of making Taylor suffer the consequences of her own actions, while invoking sympathy simultaneously with disgust at Taylor's betrayals; the depths she's sunken to, and then to finally wrap it up with shame and admonishment of her friends, turned victims, is masterful. How dare either they or I judge her for what she had to do to survive. Each chapter reveals that it got worse and worse. At some point, I suspect that (one of) the reasons that Taylor is being given such little leeway by the rest of the cast and remains constantly under the threat of harsh re-imprisonment or execution by vengeful kill-teams is because she somehow became the worst member of the Slaughterhouse Nine or even surpassed them in notoriety.

Tattletale telling Skitter to kill herself was such an insane scene that I stood up and covered my mouth. I was in disbelief. But knowing now that Skitter had betrayed the Undersiders to a slaughter by Mannequin (after having sacrificed her own father and, essentially, her own pre-cape life and innocence with him. The Taylor that she did not want to be, embracing the Skitter she chose to become) and then at some point caused the remainder of the Livsey family to kill themselves the same way Reggie did, with gunshot wounds, really clarifies that Taylor did something unforgivable. She exploited her friendship with Lisa to injure her in a way that can never be repaired. Lisa in canon never really had much to do with her parents ever again, but she probably didn't want them dead for neglecting Reggie.

I may edit this later, or reblog it, as new thoughts on the work come to me.

[cosmowgyral]

Jude's Main Story

Chapters 3-4 Snippets

(only contains short summaries of few incidents)

At the dock, MC is amazed by Jude’s excellent employee supervision. He reportedly pays all of his hardworking employees a respectable salary and even gives them another chance if they mess up something.

While returning to Crown castle, Jude gets attacked by a man whose business Jude destroyed because he was allegedly smuggling drugs through Raven's network. After that, Jude's assault on his way home from work appeared to happen every day. His life was sought after by politicians, business executives, bureaucrats, and even aristocrats. According to Ellis, Jude enjoys trampling on the lives of people in positions of authority.

(I know I know, he's amazing isn't he? - says that with puffed up pride)

MC feels that Jude could have easily avoided all of this, but he doesn't, which leads us to believe that maybe he was intentionally infuriating people and making them harbor resentment toward him. She requests Ellis to teach her self-defence as being with Jude was endangering her life. Ellis gives her a little gun from Victor's arm collection in addition to teaching her self-defense.

In chapter 4, Jude, Ellis and MC go to an aristocrat’s mansion who was allegedly involved in human trafficking and drug smuggling at one of Jude’s warehouses. Jude told him that selling 6 people will result in 6 smacks from him. MC tried to stop him as the scene became more graphic, but he warned her not to impede with her needless sense of justice. After some time, the guards of the mansion entered the room and Jude had to use his curse to put them to sleep, including a guard who was about to hit the MC from behind.

A fire is started in the mansion to destroy the evidence and Jude hurls MC out of the window, sneering at her for being in the way.

-But, it's the heart that really hurts.

Premium Story-

(If I be honest here, Jude's treatment can get very harsh. Just like mentioned above, his words did sorta sting at times. But, his harsh and bitter remarks make me even more determined to resist him, kinda makes me wanna glare at him back. )

Jude and his choking (gaaaaaahhh!!)

He basically threatens her so she leaves him, telling her she’ll die if she stays with him. But she resolutely says that she’ll kill before she dies herself. (THAT’S RIGHT)

Naturally, he is taken aback and lets her go after which she offers to tend to his wounds. Here we get to see the book Jude carries around with him- Jules Verne’s From Earth to Moon. She is surprised to see Jude carrying a science fiction book and asks if he loves the moon. He claims to detest it. He feels compelled to gaze at it even though he doesn't want to because of how brilliantly it sparkles in the night sky. It doesn’t let him forget things he wants to forget.

Jude asks for something in exchange for MC's gratitude for saving her from the fire. Following a string of suggestions and Jude's rejections, he asks her to stop yapping or else he’ll shut her mouth himself. (IF YOU KNOW YOU KNOW)

Naturally though, we are teased because this is only Chapter 4. He brings his face near enough to give the impression that he is truly going to kiss. Despite his taunts, she says that she doesn't care for a kiss or two. So he’s like “Should I just do it then?”

But this is Jude, so you can't really anticipate it this early. Therefore, I'm not disappointed, maybe? *tries to calm my heart down*

I'll share a few screenshots from the premium story in another post.

[f1amboyant]

we used to interact a lot, but then it stopped and now i'm scared/embarrassed to do that, so i'll use this way to tell you i'm excited for your single dad Charles au :)))

Hi there 🩵

I know it's easy to say, but please don't feel scared or embarrassed to interact again. I'm always open to interactions. But if you feel more comfortable sending anon asks, that's okay too 🥰

And the single dad charles au? This story truly has taken over my life at this point. I love this stupid little story so much 🥹 But I have to admit, it's really longer than anything I have tried to write before so it's taking a lot of time and energy from me. So thank you very much for being excited about this little story 🥹

Please, I would be very happy if you reached out (through asks or dms or whatever) about this story because I have already written 22k words that I cannot post yet and I'm itching to talk about it. So yeah 🫣

Anyway. Maybe I can give a little snippet? 🥰

.

Charles walked back to the leaving room where the game had finally come to an end. Charles didn't know if Gabriel's favorite team had won or not, but his son was still talking with Carlos excitedly.

Charles glanced down at his watch and sighed. It was way past Gabriel's bedtime but it didn't seem like the boy would get tired any time soon. That was okay. Tonight was a weird and special night.

He leaned against the doorframe, looking at the two: this beautifully tender man and his son. Something squeezed in Charles' heart. This image looked too perfect. He wanted this to be his reality so much. Carlos took such good care of Gabriel and it seemed Gab really liked spending time with him.

"I really like you, Carlos," Gab suddenly said, like he could read his father's mind.

Charles smiled. Of course his son who never stopped talking would say exactly what he had on his little mind. Like father, like son. But it seemed like Gabriel didn't want to stop there.

"Are you going to be my new dad?" the boy asked. "All the other kids have two parents. Can you be my second dad? My other dad didn't like me and left me," he added with a slight pout.

Charles' heart broke, right here and there. He had gone through a lot in his younger years but nothing, absolutely nothing broke his heart faster and harder than seeing his little boy say he wasn't loved by his genitor. Charles could go through hell and back. But this? This was unacceptable.

Charles stepped inside the room, ready to scoop Gabriel right into his arms in the tightest hug possible, but Carlos beat him to it. The coach put his big hand over Gabriel's head and ruffled his hair, eliciting a laugh from the boy.

"Ah, Gabi," Carlos sighed. "I'm sure your other dad didn't know you. If he had, he would have loved you, cielo. I'm sure."

He looked up, meeting Charles' eyes. Charles gulped down.

"Pi–" his throat tighten too much for this name to come out. "He wasn't ready to be a dad," he explained poorly.

"But Carlos can be my new dad, right papa?"

What was Charles supposed to answer to that? That yes, he would very much like to include Carlos in their lives? That yes, please fuck yes, he would very very much like to have Carlos with him and all that entailed? But that also no, because that was terrifying and Charles couldn't risk his heart getting broken again? That he couldn't risk Gabriel's heart to get broken?

Lost, Charles looked to Carlos. That bastard's smile grew more smug by the second. And if Charles looked back at Gabriel, all he could see were those bright blue eyes full of too much hope. Truly, Charles' life was ridiculous.

"Yes, Charles," Carlos probed. "Am I going to be Gabi's new dad? That's a very good question."

Charles felt himself blush harder and brighter than ever. His hair probably turned red too at this point. He hadn't stopped blushing all evening. This was utterly ridiculous. And there was only one escape.

"We can talk about that later, it's time to go to bed, Gab."