#my life is just. so so fucking tiny and monitored

[tragicomedys]

ok

[phantomrose96]

So my mom's birthday was this week and I flew down with Patches to visit her for a few days. Patches, while a verified hater of the airport, really loves my mom's place because there are so many more closets to explore and birds to watch and cobwebs to dust with her stupid little face.

My mom also goes to bed earlier than anyone I know, so for the evenings it was on me to monitor Patches' activity. And she's very good. She's 99% good. She's 1% "could use improvement" good and the 1%, which I'd forgotten about, is tomatoes.

Patches will leave most things alone. (And by "alone" I mean she'll absolutely bitch slap them onto the floor, but they will leave the ordeal with just as many or few surface punctures as they had before the encounter started.) Not tomatoes. Patches has it the fuck out for tomatoes.

So when I noticed her batting something around on the ground I realized that my mom had left a sole, roma tomato in the fruit basket on the counter and it was now experiencing the life cycle of a pingpong ball between Patches' paws.

I take it away from her, like a fucking evil woman, and now I'm like "okay actually, where do I hide this." See at home I have an anti-Patches cabinet, which is for things that have no business living in a cabinet but which WILL have business dying at Patches' hands if left accessible. And this is WEIRD to have such a cabinet but it's my own home.

I'm scanning my mother's cabinets going "is this weird here? can the tomato go in my mother's dish cabinet?" And I briefly consider sticking it in the fridge, as a normal location, but the audacity of altering this tomato's ripening process is an audacity I do not possess. So I go with cabinet. I go with the first eye-level cabinet, which is the coffee mug cabinet, which is perfect because the tomato will not be lost to cabinet purgatory there, since my mom opens it every morning for her coffee. I will simply tell her in the morning that the tomato is there.

Next morning. Seeing as my mother goes to bed at the butt-crack of dusk she ALSO gets up at the ass-crack of dawn. This means I trail down like 2 hours after her with my work laptop and Patches. This is also now her birthday. I'm sharing the sofa with her for a good 15 minutes when I think to myself I'd like some coffee, and I remember I put a tomato in the cabinet. I tell my mom as much. I put the tomato in her coffee mug cabinet.

And the look I get is one I can't really figure out on spot. But she says "Chrissy this is the best birthday present you could have given me" which is a very weird response to the already weird statement "Oh you probably saw, but I hid the tomato in the coffee mug cabinet because Patches has it out for tomatoes."

So I do not at all know how this makes for a good birthday gift. My mom tells me how a week or two ago, she came home unloading groceries. At the end of putting everything away she could not for the life of her find her phone. Absolutely nowhere. She pinged it from her iPad and it started singing. From the fridge. She opened her fridge. Her phone was in the fridge.

A couple days later she lost Ash's collar. Spent three days looking for it. Couldn't remember where she'd taken it off or what she did with it. Showed up in the grass when she remembered she took it off to let him play fetch in the lake.

And then this morning, her birthday morning, she came into the kitchen, made her pot of coffee, opened the cabinet to fetch her coffee mug, and found... tomato. Singular. Tomato in the cabinet. Tomato she had no memory of placing in a cabinet. Tomato she could not possibly fathom having a reason for being in the cabinet.

She was like Chrissy I cried. She was like this is it, time to send her to pasture. She's a harebrained old lady now and there is no coming back from this. She's the lady who accidentally puts tomatoes in the cabinet. Awake before God, standing in the kitchen, signing her life away over this tiny roma tomato. (Roma tomato with little cat vampire teeth marks in it).

I was like oh. No. I put it there. Because Patches was going to commit war crimes against it. I put it there because I did not stop to consider "Will finding a single tomato in the coffee mug cabinet somehow be the very specific thing that undoes my mother this morning?" I put it there out of careful consideration for the life of this tomato, and with no consideration for the extremely esoteric way that a tomato in the cabinet could be received like a horse head in the bed, Godfather style.

We made a salad with the tomato. Happy birthday Mom.

[luveline]

can we please have more coworker JAMES 💜

james calls you something he maybe shouldn’t | fem

You’re feeling at a James-given mark when Sirius appears. 

You don’t know Sirius half as well as you know James nor Remus, but you’re ninety five percent sure he’s a good guy. He’s funny at lunch, whenever Remus has managed to convince you to go with them. He’s like James in terms of scandal. They like making bad jokes. Sirius really likes making Remus laugh, so he must be nice. 

“Hey,” he says, “where are they?” 

You nod toward the boss’ office. “Presenting the last of the Lang and Co.” 

“Oh, right.” Sirius moves in to James’ desk. He knocks one of his figurines over purposefully, then moves one to have its face in the other’s backside. 

“I’ll have to tell him that was you,” you say. 

“Rat. Why?” 

“He’ll think it was me otherwise, and then–” He won’t kiss me later, you’d been about to say. James has grown suddenly and enthusiastically fond of withholding affection whenever you mess with him. As a joke, of course, but you refuse to risk your lunchtime kiss. “You know what he’s like with me.” 

Sirius smiles oddly. “I do.” 

He sits at James’ desk. Ever since you and James… started whatever it is you’re doing, things have been raw for you. Maybe you’re stupid, it’s only kisses, but you’re sort of thinking it isn’t. Like, this is dating. You might not be boyfriend and girlfriend, but you’re exclusive. 

James is too good, and some small part of you doesn’t like admitting it, but the bigger part (the part that wants to kiss him and be kissed by him) knows it surely. How could you have grown to fancy him otherwise?

“Doing anything fun this weekend?” you ask. 

“Not likely,” Sirius says, tucking hair behind his ears. “We’re all helping Remus’ dad paint the house. It’s a tiny thing n’ it won’t take long, but he lives in Aberystwyth. S’gonna take hours to get there and he wants to stay up there ‘cos his dad gets lonely.” Sirius scratches his jaw. “His dad’s nice, mind. I don’t mind going up there. Just hate being stuck in the car when James is driving.” 

You won’t see James this weekend, then. He hadn’t mentioned it. “It’s beautiful in Aberystwyth. Maybe you can go to the beach,” you say. 

“That’s what I’m trying to convince them to do.” Sirius grins. 

“Not the best weather.” 

“It’s always nicer up there. We spent a lot of time up there, you know, in the summers. We ping-ponged between Remus’ house and James’ parents.” 

“Do they live there too?” you ask. 

“Nowhere near.” Sirius laughs, a deep, rich sound. “You think I’d be used to long drives.” 

“Where’s James from?”

“My parents live deep in the West Country,” James says, his hands sudden on the back of your chair. 

Fuck, you think. You had no idea he was coming, distracted by Sirius and the patter of rain against the window. “You creeper.” 

“You’re the creeper. Grilling dear Siri for details on my personal life.” James dives for a biscuit from the plastic packaging laid out on your desk and then away from you. “If you want to know where to send your fan mail, just ask me, sweetheart.” 

“How do you sneak up on me like that?” you ask. 

The space between your chair and the wall isn’t super tight, but it’s still weird to think he’d approached from the right and you hadn’t noticed. Just, James isn’t generous with details about himself and you’re too timid in your standing with him to ask. 

“Practice… Sirius, what have you don’t to my little women!” 

“I thought they were boys?” Sirius says. 

“That gives you no right to knock them over and make them do frankly obscene things to one another. This is a workplace.” James knocks Sirius out of the way, desk chair and all, to set each of his little green figurines onto their feet. The ones that are standing, that is. The sleeping one he puts back in pride of place underneath his computer’s monitor. 

“She told me not to,” Sirius says, not looking at anyone now, peering backward toward the office. “But I didn’t listen, don’t blame our sweet Y/N.” 

“I wasn’t going to.” James sends you a secret smile. 

“She wouldn’t physically withheld me if I weren’t so devilishly fast.” Sirius’ voice warms. “Hello, darling.” 

Remus huffs as he sets down a huge binder of paper. “Hi.” 

“You okay?” 

The tone he uses is so tender, so soft, you aren’t jealous of Remus but you’re not far from it, either. Remus’ frowning is quick to turn up at the sight of his meddling boyfriend. It must be nice to see someone and have them make a bad day good. 

You look up, finding James paused with a hand on his desk. He’s looking at you, impassive. 

“You okay?” you ask him. 

He squints, wrinkles his nose. “Fine. Got shouted at a bit for the reports. Bet you’re glad you have a twisted ankle.” You’re confused at first, then caught. James’ wrinkled face darkens to glare at you. “You lied?” 

“I really didn’t wanna see him today.” Your boss sucks. 

“And we did? Remus, we’ve been betrayed.” 

“James, I knew she was lying, I just don’t care.” Remus rubs his face. “Why shouldn’t one of us escape him?” 

Sirius takes Remus’ empty hand hanging at his side, picture of a concerned lover. 

James, on the other hand, steals another biscuit despite your laughing protesting and nimbly switches off your monitor. 

“Had enough,” James says. Turned away from the boys, he smiles at you playfully, hand twitching at his side like he wants to give you a squeeze. Or a shove. “Your betrayal is noted.” 

“Mm.” You take a third biscuit from your pack to offer him. 

He takes it, letting his knuckles brush under your arm before pulling away. “And filed away for a later date.” 

When Sirius has pulled Remus away for another early lunch, James retakes his chair and slides as close to you as he can be. He looks for your hand under the desk. You pretend it’s just casually there on your knee and not waiting for him to hold. 

“My dad’s family is very well off,” he says, rubbing your index finger with his thumb, “so the estate is huge. They own a lot of land, but he’s not, like, a lord or anything. You’d love it down there though, it’s nice.” 

“I bet I would.”

“Don’t look so surprised.” 

“No, I’m not, I know you’re rich.” 

“Not that sort of surprise. It would be nice to go down there together.” He can tell he’s getting ahead of himself and backtracks. “Well, this weekend I’m going to gorgeous Aberystwyth and you’re…” 

“Doing laundry.” 

“Well,” he says quietly, “maybe you can make some time Sunday night after all of that and we can get a late dinner.” 

“I thought I was in trouble over the twisted ankle.” 

“Who could be in trouble for an injury?” James sandwiches your hand in his. 

“Fake injury.” 

“Oh, my girl,” he murmurs, almost inaudible, “so honest. No punishment on account of owning up to it.” 

Great. My girl and he’s going away for the weekend. James Potter’s your personal nightmare. 

—

james coworker au

[notjustjavierpena]

Longing

Series Masterpost | Main Masterpost | Support a disabled creator

A/N: This is a collection of !!!!5!!!! asks because y’all are desperate for Javier being a great husband and lover, and I am happy to give you what you crave.

Summary: You make love to your husband the first time after giving birth.

Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader (no y/n)

Tags: +18 smut, husband!javier, domestic life, breastfeeding, f masturbation, showering together, insecurity and nervousness, longing kisses and lots of them, body worship, breast play, lactation kink, javier is HUNGRY, nipple play orgasm, checking in, multiple orgasms, dirty talk, praise kink, fingering, clit stim, unprotected piv sex, emotional and desperate sex, creampie, crying and aftercare, sweet javi is here to make you comfortable and make you come 

Word count: 5.3k

Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/53944708

Longing

Javier gets up early every day for work during your maternity leave and the routine is the same; coffee, breakfast, and a shower, and then he gets Lucas out of his bassinet so he can feel his son’s tiny body against his naked chest before he finally brings him to you because he knows you love bed-sharing with your newborn. It’s so you don’t miss me, he jokes each time after kissing your forehead, knowing that his son might as well be his clone, at least not too much.

You’re nursing Lucas as Javier gets dressed. Today will be the first break in your newfound routine, and you barely know how to begin. Something is playing on your mind and you distract yourself by running three fingers over Lucas’ head as he feeds, hoping it’ll make the words you’re about to say seem less clumsy.

“Javi,” you try to get your husband’s attention.

“Sí, mi amor (yes, my love)?” Javier is standing in front of the mirror, tying his tie. He looks at you through the mirror and smiles gently as he catches Lucas’ tiny hands reaching for your chest. You let the infant grab at your finger instead, warmth in your grin as you bond with him.

“I was thinking we could do something tonight,” you begin and your voice sounds almost absentminded. It feels silly to ask for sex when you think back to how ravenous both of you were before and during the pregnancy. Lucas is nearly two months old. You haven’t been intimate with each other for two months. 

“Do what?” Javier goes back to tying a knot on his ridiculously patterned tie. 

“You know…”

He tenses up, almost looking like when a cat’s ears perk up in interest.

“Is tonight the night?” He asks, catching on. He turns away from the mirror to face you, expectant but careful not to assume. 

“Two months,” you say simply, “I think I’m ready.”

“Two whole months. How the fuck did we manage that?” He snorts. You tut at his foul language but cannot help but smile since you know he is right. It boggles your mind too. 

“We’ll have to take it slow. Would that be okay?” You look down at Lucas as he gurgles slightly, moving him a bit in your arms. 

Javier finishes dressing for the day. He walks across the room and bends down over you, kissing your forehead, “Is it okay that I get to take care of my beautiful wife? I think I’ll suffer through it for you.”

When you tilt your head backward, he also kisses your mouth. You smile against his lips. You say, “I think you’re late for work.”

“And maybe I’ll go home early too,” he pecks your lips repeatedly, “Rush home and into the bedroom.”

“We’ll be waiting here for you,” you let him know. 

Javier runs a finger down over Lucas’ nose, “Your momma better change the batteries in the baby monitor, mijo (my son). We won’t have time to check on you as often.”

“Oh, just go,” you grin.

“Te quiero (I love you).”

“I love you too, now go catch some bad guys.”

Javier gives you one last kiss before he heads out the door, and it’s enough to leave you aching for another. He lingers until your breath is torn from your lungs, slips his tongue inside your mouth until you are reminded of what he can do with it, and his fingers slide through the hair at the back of your head - all he has to do is yank but he doesn’t, not with his baby in your arms.

“More later,” he whispers and your pulse goes south at the promise. 

“O-okay,” you only manage to stutter.

—

When Lucas has been put to sleep, Javier and you take a warm bath together to get you all relaxed. He helps you under the spray, guiding you into the cubicle by the hand, and smiles as you sigh deeply at the warm water. 

“You’re fucking gorgeous,” he praises when you run your fingers through your hair as it wets. You give him a shy grin. He proceeds to kiss your neck, not caring about water running down over his face when his lips on your body make you less tense with nerves. 

You tilt your head back, letting out a sigh as he drinks in your skin, going upwards until it is your mouth he captures. His hands dig into your fuller hips, fingers denting what you call your baby weight and what he tells you he’d fall on his knees for.

“Can I touch you?” He asks when he needs air. 

“I’m nervous,” you answer truthfully. 

Carefully, as if seeking permission, he takes your hand in his own. He kisses your palm softly and you feel a spark of electricity in your belly, knowing that you are lucky that it is him who is here to guide you through this. He moves your hand down between your legs, “Perhaps… these gentle hands.” 

“You want me to touch myself?” You blink.

“Who would be better?” He grins boyishly. 

A part of you wants to say that you think he might know you better than you know yourself but there’s a plan here. You follow through, never breaking eye contact as you find your clit and start going in circular motions. It takes a second but when your body finally reacts, you let out a gasp at the flutter that spreads out from the little nub. 

Javier looks ravenous at having the privilege to witness you like this. He talks quietly over the sound of the water, and soon you feel his cock poke into your thigh, “That’s it, mi amor (my love). God, look at you. Doing so good.” 

“Javi,” you sigh gently. Your fingers speed up, feeling your heartbeat slowly increasing in speed. You chase your high, mouth slightly open and eyes locked on Javier’s.

“Yeah? You’re gonna make yourself come?” Javier’s hands find your hips again. He holds them in place, joins in the way that he can. You nod with a higher-pitched yeah, eyes falling closed during a louder moan.

Your fingers are more frantic after that. You touch yourself with him looming over you, core burning with need as you can feel his eyes bore into you. Your clit jumps occasionally as you work yourself toward the edge and a crease in your forehead forms. 

“I’m gonna— fuck,” you announce. The sound of water cascading down your body blurs until it becomes almost silent to your ears.

“Yes, you are,” his voice has dropped an octave, “Oh, you really are, aren’t you?”

And then you snap and the fact that it isn’t in privacy and that you have Javier swearing under his breath makes it feel incredible. You can feel your cunt clench from clit to slit repeatedly, seeking more than you can give at the moment but oh, it feels so good. You don’t think you’ve ever wanted your husband inside of you more, walls aching to be stretched.

Time stands still in the shower. You find yourself resting against the cold, tiled wall. Javier looks at you, has pushed his wet hair out of his face, and is smiling triumphantly, “Mi esposa hermosa (my gorgeous wife).”

You roll your eyes, cheeks heating up from both post-orgasmic bliss and sudden shyness, “It felt good. I don’t think you know how wet I am for you.”

“Well you are in the shower,” he jokes when he spots your restraint, hoping to get you to relax even further, and you step forward to punch him playfully. He shies away, laughing to the point where your head swims with love and tenderness for him. 

It ends up being an occasion to kiss once more. Javier holds your face, thumb smoothing over your chin as he slides his mouth over yours. You melt into him, holding onto both of his wrists as you suck on his tongue and it doesn’t bother you that you accidentally swallow a few droplets of water; his lips on yours make everything else fade. 

He has rarely kissed and touched you like this over the past few months, having agreed with himself to not tempt you too much with something that neither of you would have been able to follow through on, so the promise behind his touch - his hands are going down to your hips and your arms are linking together around his neck - makes you shiver as goosebumps rise on your skin underneath the hot spray of water. 

Eventually, you realize how hard he is and you almost feel bad for being so selfish but when you reach down, Javier stops you. 

“I can wait,” he promises, breaking the kiss to look down between your bodies. He twitches in your hand, even more when you reluctantly let go. 

“Javi,” you whine.

“I don’t want it to be over already,” he explains with color on his cheeks, “Think about how much we’ll enjoy it later. I’m sorry, mi amor (my love).”

“No, I understand,” you reply with a soft sigh, “I’ll make it up to you later.”

“Mhm, bet you will,” he hums and then drags you close to kiss you again.

You agree on finishing the shower and getting into your sleep clothes because Javier argues that it might help with your nerves to be undressed by him, a thing you absolutely love. You settle for a loose t-shirt - in case you have to nurse - and panties, something comfortable with an ability to leave the covered parts of your body up to the imagination.

Earlier, before checking on Lucas, you took painkillers to let your muscles relax even further. Now that they are working, you meet him in bed. He smiles at you as he sees you enter through the door and watches you come closer as he is sitting with one leg dangling from the side of your shared bed.

“Hey,” you say shyly.

“Come here,” he smiles.

You may have relaxed muscles but your heartbeat races in your chest, feeling like you might have butterflies trapped behind your ribs. Your body is humming as you crawl onto the bed, sitting on your knees in front of him. 

“You still want to do this?” He asks, taking one of your wrists in his hands. He rubs it with his thumb, giving you his usual concerned expression that could compete with that of a puppy. 

“Yes,” you confirm, leaning forward to initiate a kiss. 

He catches on quickly and meets you halfway. He tastes like toothpaste, kissing you softly at first before he grows hungry from having denied himself during the first touches in the shower. 

You sling your arms around him, just about to be bold enough to straddle him but he is quicker, and suddenly flips you around until your back hits the mattress and makes you bounce slightly. You respond with a half-yelp, half-giggle, and try to ignore any anxiety that might arise. 

However, any noise quickly dies in your throat because Javier moves on top of you. He moves close until you can get drunk on his scent, inhale the distinct smell of only him that gets you so high because you know it’s only you who gets to be so close to it. You can feel your heartbeat in your sex, your underwear starting to dampen. 

“You know I struggle to be gentle,” he rasps against your ear, placing a lingering kiss right below it to make your heartbeat spike. His hands curl around the bottom of your t-shirt. He pulls back to look at what he is doing to you and for a moment, you think he might rip the fabric apart from the way his nails dig into it, the same urgency in his eyes like someone who has gone without food and drink for weeks and is now looking at a whole buffet, “When it’s been so long since I have had you like this.”

You hum in understanding, mouth slightly open and squeezing your legs together with a sigh, causing Javier to look down between your legs. He looks like someone who is making a plan, a list of steps forward about what he wants to do to you. You can only wait in anticipation.

Your top comes off then. He yanks it upwards and you lift your arms above your head to help him rid you of it completely. Your tits bounce slightly as there is nothing to hold them anymore, and Javier groans at the sight of you. He practically latches onto your neck, sucking his way down your throat until he has made a trail of glistening spit down over your shoulder, your collarbone, and finally down between your breasts. It’s nice but it’s a lot.

“Stop,” you say to him as he seems lost in the moment. You rest your hands on the back of his neck, threading your fingers through the soft curls there. He lifts his head to look at you, and you smile gently. Your face feels hot, “I need you to go slow… Sorry, I’m not ruining it, am I? I just told you to stop…”

“What? No. No, mi amor (my love),” he reassures but even if his kisses have made you wet, you feel overwhelmed with the idea that things might not be the same ever again. You shift slightly underneath him, and he presses a soft kiss to your collarbone whilst watching your expression in case it’s still uncomfortable for you. 

“I think it might take a while for me to be ready tonight, I can’t just jump back in,” you swallow after confessing it but Javier nods in understanding. 

“That’s okay, baby. It’s only been two months,” he crawls up to hover over you, abandoning whatever he was doing even if he was enjoying it, and you still rest your hands on the back of his neck. 

“I mean you’re so,” you decide to feed his ego to make your reluctance up to him even if it’s not necessary, “… Big.”

Javier snorts. He seems to find it more funny than flattering, “Yeah?”

“Oh yeah,” you giggle, “Biggest thing I’ve ever seen.”

“Listen,” he turns serious, resting on one of his forearms to reach for your hand on the back of his head. He pulls it down so he can hold your hand in his. He entwines your fingers, “Do you want to stop? I won’t get angry at you.”

“And not even try?” You avoid his gaze.

“Hey, mírame (look at me),” he replies and you do, “If that’s what you want. No matter what you say, we made progress tonight.”

“I masturbated in the shower,” you deadpan. 

Javier laughs but he kisses your lips a few times, “And it was fucking sexy. I’ll be satisfied with just watching that for the rest of my life if I had to, but I do like the thought of Lucas not being an only child.”

“Slow down, Peña,” you teasingly scold him, feeling your anxiety fade as he makes you laugh and thus relax, “You just got your first baby. I am not a factory.”

“What are you then?” He wiggles his brows.

“Your wife,” you say with a grin. 

“Oh, right, that’s right,” he moves to kiss your neck again and you find that you let him. He moves slower than before, trailing his lips across your throat from one shoulder to the other. He takes his time and doesn’t rush the way that he probably would like to, “That’s right, you’re my wife.” 

“Husband,” you moan softly and feel him smile against your skin. He goes further down and goosebumps rise on your skin when the flat of his tongue licks around one of your nipples. You push your chest out, needing more because it starts a fire in your belly. To think that he hadn’t even gotten this far just moments ago. 

“You like that?” He asks, pressing a kiss to the side of your right breast. He looks up at you through his lashes before he licks the little nub again, it has hardened into a peak. The nerves are so sensitive there now that you are breastfeeding, and you hadn’t even given it a second thought that it could be something to enjoy with him. 

“Yeah,” you sigh and stare down at the top of his head. He moves to bend your legs, spreading them apart so he can lie down between them and kiss your tits. 

“I can’t wait to see how wet this’ll get you, baby,” he murmurs as he concentrates. He starts with the right side, letting his mouth fall open until he can press a hot, open-mouthed kiss to your nipple and suck just a little as he pulls back. He does it again. You curl your toes and whine. 

“Oh,” you are panting already from the connection it appears to have with your cunt, “Keep going.”

Javier doesn’t hesitate. He skims his hand up and down your side until he dares cup your breast, looking up at you for confirmation that you aren’t uncomfortable. You bite your lip and nod. 

Your husband applies the gentlest amount of pressure. He doesn’t remove his hand again, keeping your breast in his palm as he takes your nipple between his lips once more. However, this time he sucks without pulling away, and much to your surprise, as he massages you too, you feel a few drops of milk slip into his mouth. 

“Javi!” You say in a horrified voice, starting to squirm, “I’m so sorry. Oh my God, ohmygodohmygodohmy—“

But Javier only seems to be spurred on by this. In fact, he starts to coax out more milk to satisfy the hunger that he didn’t even know he had in him. You hear him mumbling something, telling you not to worry about it. He sucks, laps, and catches each drop that escapes his mouth and streaks your beautiful chest whilst your eyes roll back and your clit throbs. 

Your hands find his hair. You tug without making him pull away from you, and pressure builds as his skilled tongue moves in circles around your now-puffy nipple. He takes the peak between his lips again and again, the sound of wet kisses towards skin filling the room, and he drinks like he is parched. 

Eventually, you feel too tender to go on and something inside of you fears that you might actually come from this even if it seems ridiculous to be terrified of that happening. You don’t think you have ever had breasts this sensitive in your life, and whilst it has been nice for you to have Javier pay attention to your chest, this is new territory and it’s overwhelming above all else. 

The grip you have on his hair intensifies, “Baby. Can you switch? I’m getting sore.”

“Of course,” he draws back slowly and gently noses along your spit-slicked nipple and presses one last soft kiss. You twitch underneath the touch. 

“Javi,” you stress. 

But he follows through and switches over to the left. The sensation of him using his tongue on you here as well is exquisite, eliciting a string of higher and higher moans from your throat. 

God, he knows what he is doing with his mouth and soon wetness has started to smear your inner thighs after seeping through your underwear. You know Javier will lose his mind when he sees it.

Though right now, he is busy as his tongue flicks repeatedly across the hardened nub. Milk trails down your stomach at first and then suddenly squirts when he pinches your right nipple without warning. 

“Oh!” You gasp and feel your pulse getting stronger between your legs. You lift your head, “Jesus. This is—“

“The hottest fucking thing I’ve ever seen,” he interrupts you as if he knows you are going to degrade yourself in some way. You were in fact going to call it messy. He kisses your breast open-mouthed again, sucking your nipple into his mouth until you give in to a moan, “¡Dios mío (my God)! You taste like candy. Sweetest fuckin’ thing ever.”

“You need to—“ you can barely speak as his tongue curls around your hardened peak. He flicks his tongue back and forth over it afterward.

“Yes?” He stops to let you talk and nibbles right at the roundness of your breast. 

“I can’t do this anymore, we gotta do something else or I’ll come,” you don’t even hear how absurd it is to make it sound like a problem. Below you, Javier nearly chokes at hearing that.

“Jesus, how devastating that would be,” he says sarcastically. With a quick glance up at you, he decides to keep going to which you do not protest. He lavishes you with nips and sucks, building something low in your belly, “Then come, mi vida (my life).”

You try to catch your breath as your cunt pulses but suddenly an orgasm crashes over you and makes you lose it altogether. There’s milk everywhere. You cry for him after a moment of not being able to make a sound, hands falling to the sides so you don’t end up pulling strands of hair from his scalp. Your back arches, your throat scratches from the noise you make, and below you, Javier watches with absolute wonder.

“Are you okay?” He eventually asks, sitting up a little to follow your wishes if you should have any. When you don’t respond, too busy panting, he starts rubbing your thighs soothingly until you come back to him. 

“That’s never happened before,” you say, “I didn’t think…”

“Was it good?” He watches you with a tiny smirk.

You nod.

“Do you want more?” He continues. 

You don’t hesitate despite the circumstances. Twenty minutes ago, you would have doubted even being kissed. You nod.

“And what does my baby want?” He looks down between your legs. When you don’t reply, he starts suggesting things, “Want me to play with your perfect pussy? We can stop anytime you want.”

You whimper instead of using actual words. It’s now that you realize the pressure inside of you telling you how much you need to feel him inside of you, and you’ll take it any way you can. Perhaps it’ll be easier to start out this way. 

“Yeah?” He sounds almost a bit mocking, moving to stand on his knees between your spread legs, “That what my girl wants?”

“Yeah,” you reply breathlessly.

Javier swears quietly as he hooks his fingers into the waistband of your panties, pulling them down and watching the fabric cling to your wet seam. He inhales deeply as if to compose and behave himself, looking starved for more even as he already has a streak of white milk on his chin, “You are so goddamn wet for me, baby. She’s weeping, the poor thing.”

“Imagine how many men would worship the shape of your body,” he praises as soon as he has you naked below him, eyes glazed over by lust. He looks at you as if it’s the first time he has ever seen you, pupils dilated and mouth slightly open. You feel like a deer in the headlights of a car but you don’t dare interrupt him, don’t dare disturb the flow of words falling from his lips because they make your whole body burn with need instead of insecurity.

“I can’t believe that I was the one who got to make you my wife,” he tells you with a smile that shows you how pleased he is with himself as if it’s his greatest achievement - fuck everything else; the job, the money, the fame. He skims a hand over your belly before leaning down to kiss below your belly button, causing your muscles to jump underneath his warm mouth when he licks you clean of milk. Then his palm descends on your body, “Mhm, gonna show you how grateful I am. Stuff you full of my fingers.”

“Please,” you whine, jaw clenching as he slips a finger inside of you and tiny shivers seem unable to stop rolling over you. He straightens again to look at you for reassurance that everything is okay. You give him no reason to doubt.

After a few moments, he adds a second finger. He curls them upwards until he finds the little spot inside of you that makes you sing, and your hands grab at the sheets when he makes a come-hither motion over and over again.

“Javi,” you breathe desperately. 

“Yes?” He doesn’t halt, only slows down slightly to concentrate on what you are going to ask of him. The look in his eye tells you that he’ll give you anything. 

“I love you,” you moan towards the ceiling instead. The wet squelches of your cunt are obscene to listen to, bouncing off the walls along with your continuous gasping for air as he makes you unable to breathe properly. 

“I know, baby, I know. I love you too,” he grinds the heel of his hand down against your mound, reminding you briefly of how he made love to you the first time ever. He rubs your clit on the outside and works the pads of his fingers over your g-spot on the inside. Fast. The world fades away around you until you suddenly find yourself coming again, Javier’s eyes widening at how quickly you have gotten there once more, “Christ, baby. You are just insatiable tonight. Has it been too long?”

“I want you,” you completely ignore the question. You shake through your high, not even planning on begging but it’s almost too much not to have him fuck you, “I can— ah, I can take your cock. I can. Please. I need you inside of me.” 

Javier growls. He shoves his underwear down, moving on the bed for a moment until he is completely naked. You reach for him with newfound confidence, and he enters your embrace and slides both arms underneath you to hug you back. The kiss he gives you is so longing that you almost want to cry from all the emotion it exudes. He loves you so much. He would never do anything to hurt you. It is so clear at that moment. 

“Make love to me,” you moan into his mouth, thumbs drawing down the sides of his face until you can move your hands to the nape of his neck. He is warm against your chest, the curls at the back of his neck slightly damp from sharing your body heat for so long.

It takes a mere few seconds for him to reach down between your bodies. You make a little gasp as he pushes into you. He is slow in his movements, almost making it seem like he isn’t moving his hips forward at all, and he keeps his eyes on yours to make sure your face’s contortion isn’t because of pain. 

You grab at the pillowcase, clutching it into your grip as he fills you up. Your breathing is loud and hard, your eyes a little wider than usual. There’s a little resistance but you try to relax into it, accept his cock even if it’s with trembles of your body.

“This okay?” He asks with a voice that is marked by his own restraint. 

You nod repeatedly. You want to punch the bed. Instead, you reach to grab his bicep and hold on for dear life as he gets deep inside of you. You aren’t sure if you have overdone it by coming two times already because you are so sensitive, your walls fluttering around his length but oh, you want him so badly that you take it with your eyes rolling back into your skull.

After a few very long moments, he is fully inside of you. His chest rises and falls quickly, breathing strained because of how much he has missed being engulfed by your heat. You hold onto his arms which flex underneath your touch, and then he moves inside of you for the first time in two months. 

The cry that releases from your throat makes your voice break and Javier’s groan follows right after. You become a sweaty mess of limbs, clutching at each other as if you can’t get close enough. You pant his name, kiss him deeply, and dig your fingers into his skin hard enough to bruise.

“I’ve missed you,” you tell him through whimpers.

“You’re perfect, mi amor (my love),” he replies in a gruff voice, “I love to fuck you.”

Javier cannot help his mouth when you make him feel like this. He thrusts harder into you, moving his weight to his forearm so he can slide his free hand under you to press it against the small of your back. He lifts your pelvis into his own, arching you until no one would be able to tell where he starts and you finish. 

Then he speeds up his hips and you see stars. You throw both arms around him, holding onto your wrist to keep them there. He drives into you with determination to make you scream, and as you do, you try to imagine how beautiful his golden back is glistening with sweat. 

“Fucking love making you come,” he continues, planting a kiss on your jaw that was probably supposed to be on your mouth, “Over and over and over. Are you gonna come for me?”

“Yes, yes, God, yes, baby,” you can feel his pubic bone grinding into your clit, building your peak quickly, “Keep going— don’t, oh my God, don’t stop!”

“Wouldn’t dream— fuck, I wouldn’t dream of it, my love,” he sounds close to, giving you everything he has to make you tip over the edge a third time. He always tells you how much he loves you choking his cock until he spills inside of you.

So when you come, a hitched breath turning into a series of cries for God, he does too. It is two months of built-up tension and emotions, and you find yourself crying in his arms as waves of pleasure take hold of you and take you with them. You are gone, lost to the world of burning desire and ecstasy. 

After he pulls out of you, the sense of time is an unknown concept in the silence that follows. You cry quietly because nothing else can convey what you feel. After all, you feel so close to him again. Javier brushes each tear away with his thumb, murmuring soft and comforting words. 

“You did so good,” are the first words that actually make sense to you. He noses along your shoulder to kiss you there, “I don’t deserve you. You are the most beautiful woman in this world.”

You chuckle breathlessly but fresh tears just fall down your cheeks. Javier rolls off of you to make things less intense, looking at you from where he is lying on his side, “Don’t cry. There’s nothing to cry about. You were so beautiful.” 

“Sorry,” you say instantly and wipe tears away with the back of your hands. 

“No,” he objects, “That’s not what I meant.”

He is silent for a moment. Then he lays his palm on your stomach, “What do you need?”

“To pee and get cleaned up,” you feel embarrassed without knowing why, “My legs feel like jelly.”

“Fuck it, let’s see if mine do too,” he is on his feet before you can protest, telling you to scoot closer and when you do, he picks you up bridal style. 

He carries you to the bathroom, making a comment about your wedding night, and then lets you pee and wipes you down with a damp cloth afterward, both your sensitive cunt and breasts. You kiss him more times than you can count when he takes you back to bed again. 

In the morning, you watch him bounce Lucas in his arms when he thinks you are asleep. He is making funny faces and blowing raspberries on your son’s chubby cheeks, talking so gently that you can’t help but simply roll onto your other side, smile gently to yourself, and fall back into slumber.

.

.

If you would like to follow my writing then go follow @notjustjavierpena-fics and turn on notifications 💖❤️

[marxism-transgenderism]

Now he wants to know why all the trans girls in Seattle are so angry, act so traumatized. “It’s not like you’re a bunch of child soldiers. Your parents weren’t killed in front of you.” He asserts that even when something nice happens, like a free drink, trans girls get triggered. Like everything is a wound, everything is trauma. He starts talking about this trans girl he met a few months ago; how all she did was bitch about AFABS and encourage cis scum to die. He wanted to be her friend, but she called trans guys Aidens, and did things like pick up all her meals drive-through, because she was convinced people inside would stare at her or misgender her. He describes the house this girl lives in—a coven of trans women polyamorously fucking each other to biblical levels of drama over the soundtrack of Skyrim on PS3, all the while telling each other how shitty the world was away from each other, until they so confused micro-aggressions for deep violence that they walked around with knives in their boots and canisters of mace dangling from their purses[...]

Most of the cruelty I’ve experienced has been inadvertant, the kind that comes from getting trampled so often that inevitablely someone steps somewhere sensitive[...]

The more I try to explain, to list the tiny grievances that added up to an intolerable day in my life, the more I sound unhinged. A man hissed at me on the bus. A bunch of teenagers loudly discussed whether I was really a guy. A girl I only knew on the Internet left a suicide note. The cashier at Whole Foods smirkingly called me “bro.” The TV at the nail salon, playing soundlessly, featured some nonsensical ghoul that I realized, with a shock, was someone’s idea of a trans woman, someone’s idea of me. The guy at the local corner store revealed that he knew where I lived and shrugged when I asked how: everyone around here knows about you. And now, I get irritated at one thing: a free drink, and I sound crazy complaining about that, right? Some total loony acting traumatized ‘cause a bartender tried to be kind.

My crush sighs and pulls out an ace. He knows people that have actually been raped, have actually been beaten—hell, half of the trans dudes he knows have been, and they aren’t paralyzed with anger, convinced they’re constantly persecuted. We’re talking real trauma, not someone whispering about them on the bus, much less the burden of free drinks. To which I know I can probably come up with some of my own friends’ real Trauma, but I’m too affronted, so I just shriek: THE WHOLE WORLD MONITORS AND MOCKS MY EVERY WAKING MOMENT!

- Torrey Peters, Infect Your Friends and Loved Ones

[w2sology]

cozy mornings w bog and baby bog

button nose, harry lewis.

summary: harry lets you have a lie in (somewhat) whilst he tends to your little one in the morning

warnings: literally just fluff overload.

notes: literally couldn't come up w a baby name to save my life LMFAO so this had to do 😭

"go back to sleep, i'll take care of her," harry mumbled, with a kiss to your cheek as he got out of bed and made his way to the nursery. it had just gone past 8 in the morning, but you had a long night prior so harry took it upon himself to do the mornings that you would usually have with your little one.

too tired to argue, you hummed in response, cosying back into your duvet as harry stretched out of bed, making the short walk to the nursery. the baby monitor was still in his hand, and he seemed to have forgotten that as he raised his hand to rub his eye. "fuck's sake," he mumbled.

slowly creaking the door open, harry smiled hearing the soft coos from his baby girl, seemingly making convo with herself and also wide awake.

"hi, angel," he softly spoke, leaning over into her cot to lift her out. upon seeing her father's face, her cheeks rose as she gave him a gummy smile, kicking her feet with excitement.

once in his arms, she clung to him like he would disappear if she didn't, and harry only cuddled up to her more. "you're such an early bird," he pointed out. "definitely didn't get that from me."

she was only a few months old, and you and harry were gradually getting used to the routine of having a newborn baby. recently, you both took her to your families, both of them gushing over her and making guesses at who's personality she'd take over.

walking back to the bedroom where you lay comfortably, harry snuck back in besides you, baby still in his arms as he held her ever so close to his chest. as he brushed away some fluff from her face, her mouth seemed to latch onto his finger, his unintentional hunger test working.

luckily, harry had grabbed a pre-pumped bottle from the bottle stand before coming back to bed, and he reached over to grab it.

feeding his little one had quickly become a favourite activity of harry's. he'd always be fighting you to do it, and you never understood why. "harry, you can rest it's fine, i'll feed her." you'd say with a laugh.

"and i said it's also fine, i can feed her. or what, you don't think i can? hm?

when harry was passionate about something, it was hard for him to back down. especially when it came down to his baby girl.

her small hand held onto his as he held the bottle up for her to drink from, her eyes blinking slowly as she looked up at harry, looking all over his face.

he couldn't help the wide smile that spread on his face at the sight of her, and she mirrored it, letting go of the bottle to let out a milky babble, eliciting a similar laugh from harry.

at the sound of his voice whispering sweet nothings to her, you turned around, slowly waking up to the sight that you've grown accustomed to — harry in his father state.

it was one that you'd never grow used to, having gone from "kids aren't for me" to "she'll say my name before yours" in the space of a couple of years.

harry's eyes diverted from the tiny human in his arms to your moving body when you shifted closer to them, using an arm to prop yourself up whilst the other travelled to gently tickle her clothed foot.

placing a kiss to your forehead and repositioning your daughter so she was in a more comfortable place, harry smiled down at you lovingly.

"morning, you."

"hi," you yawned, pulling the blanket up a bit. "i could've got her, y'know."

"i know," he answered. "as much as i'd like to disturb your sleep as i always have done, i thought i'd spend some more time with her."

you laughed at him not denying his methods of disrupting your peace, albeit receiving an earful from you.

your heart could burst from the way he looked down at her, eyes full of love and happiness as a copy of his own eyes stared back at him, big and wide and crinkled at the edges from the way she smiled.

you wouldn't trade it for the world.

[cryobabyy]

Consummation Cooper Adams x Reader

Synopsis: Isolation and survival make you act in strange ways, but all is fair in love and violence.

OR

Cooper is keeping you in a remote and isolated location where he likes to play house with you and you cope by playing along.

Tags: NSFW 18+, drabble/short fic, breeding kink, dub-con, brief mentions of violence, Stockholm syndrome, shower sex, dark themes, by request, barely proofread, p-in-v intercourse, cr3Vm pie.

AN: Howdy! Breeding Kink isn't my thing, so I hope this satisfies all my freaks out there. Please note that this is considerably dark and not fluff. Tbh it will probably make you feel kinda icky (and slightly turned on?). I can't help it y'all I'm Ottessa Moshfegh pilled lol. Also important to note that Cooper is dead ass trying to knock you up in this. Like straight up. If you are looking for something more subtle this is not it I fear 😀. Enjoy!

con·sum·ma·tion (noun) 1: the action of making a marriage or relationship complete by having sexual intercourse." the eager consummation that follows a long and passionate seduction" 2: the point at which something is complete or finalized." the consummation of a sale"

Cooper’s hands always found their way into your hair. When you crawled your way into his morning shower, he sighed as he wrapped his fingers around your wet braid, big arms snaking around your naked waist and pulling you against him. His cheek rested perfectly on top of your head.

“Missed me?” He murmurs against your scalp.

“I was scared you weren’t coming back.” You confess, his chest fluttering against your cheek as he huffs a laugh. The very real possibility of Cooper leaving you here to rot makes you feel cold.

“Don’t be stupid. I’ll always come back to you.”

His hands always ended up in your hair, exactly like how your back always ended up pressed against cold shower tiles; Cooper’s body between your legs, his hand spreading and holding your knees open. You were both delighted and horrified that he could pin you against a wall so easily. The stretch of him pushing in and out of you dampens the horror until all you feel is the warmth of the delight; hazy, muted, heavy, and all over you.

You loved when he fucked you numb.

So numb, you no longer paid mind to the dried blood washing away from his body, thick ribbons of pink water swirling at his feet. There was no ankle monitor strapped against your flesh if he was rolling your clit in his mouth. His hands had taken an orgasm from you before they had held a knife to your throat.

When you held his face between your hands and begged him to cum inside you, it was a thinly veiled plea for your life—for him to put something in you that would keep him coming back. Something that would keep you alive.

With a string of expletives, he obliged. He held you like that for sometime after, lazily pulsing inside you, using the obscene, white leakage to rub his thumb over your swollen clit.

“It’ll take better if you finish, baby.” His labored breath flutters against your mouth as he presses his forehead against yours.

Without a gun to your head, you nodded with a greedy whimper. Your mind hummed with the thought of newlyweds eager to become first-time parents, Cooper rubbing lotion over the taught skin of your growing belly, ultrasound appointments, and baby showers. A tiny, vulnerable thing swaddled in a blanket, pink and screaming—with Cooper’s hazel eyes, chocolate brown hair, and your nose and dimples. A baby with a monster for a father and a coward for a mother. A bastard.

You feel relieved when your orgasm finally rips through you. Somewhere, in the deep recesses of your asinine mind, you felt disgusted too. Cooper’s grip on your thighs began to hurt and the water droplets against your skin began to sting, but it all turned back to spineless fantasy as he lulled you through it with gentle praises

Almost there, sweetheart.

Just like that.

There we go.

Perfect.

Would it be so horrible if you were in love with him? Because you think you are.

Later on, when you’re making him coffee, he comes behind you and rests his hands on your lower belly. Repugnance and tenderness turn in your stomach. Cooper presses a kiss to the top of your head, keeping his mouth there.

“Do you think we could be happy?” He murmurs softly into your hair, thumbs tracing soft circles against your skin.

The monitor around your ankle feels heavy. You remember the sedatives he put in your drink, his wife and children at home, and this plush and comfortable prison he kept you in.

Your eyes flit toward the kitchen knives and you remember you could face the consequences of lodging one in his neck—if you wanted to.

You want to tell him he could never be happy. That his version of it could only be satisfied through violence. But brute force could be soft and safe if you surrendered to it. If you could bend something jagged and serrated into the shape of lovers, would you be spared from the rage inside of him?

“Maybe.” You say flatly, pouring Cooper his cup of coffee.

[ummmlife]

Yandere!Nanami as your boyfriend

now before we start you have to understand that the darkest and twisted part of my heart belongs to this concept of Nanami. This takes place in an alternative universe where Akutami got along with Nanami's original design as a curse user.

this man just had enough with his life as a salaryman and one day he murdered all his coworkers and boss. so this is where his whole personality changed.

Haibara's death, Geto's choosing to be a curse user before him, the higher-ups and their shit, Nanami simply had enough. he stops minding what people could think (since he's basically a crimal with a death sentence on) and surrendered to his most sicking and deepest desires.

now when it comes to you, Nanami met you after his transformation. if he had a partner before, he could have never become a criminal. this Nanami isn't the Nanami we know and love, he's worse, he already killed hundreds of people so why could he be a normal and mentally stable partner?

said that, please beware of:

Warning! ; Yandere!Nanami , nsfw (mdni) , violence and abuse , nc , obsessive and abusive behavior (from Nanami) , physical and psychological abuse , very dark themes , afab reader , evil Nanamin rawr. i swear, this isn't nice at all, so if you're sensitive, please avoid reading

When Nanami saw you walking alone to your home on a cold Thursday night after a long day of work/study, he simply couldn't take his eyes from you. How weird, this is the first time he has this kind of need.

Nanami slowly started to walk behind you, keeping a distance of two blocks as you kept walking.

Finally, when you turned to a very lonely neighborhood to shortcut your way home, he walked faster and held you from behind, making sure to cover your mouth, — "Shh, shh, shh… Don't make a noise, I'm not planning to hurt you".

Even though Nanami is a, now very sadist and evil man, he keeps his gentleness intact… in his own way.

— "Don't you like it? I bought these specially for you, my dear". Nanami kidnapped you, fortunately he hasn't abused you (yet), he just tries to force you to believe that you're in a relationship with him. Now he has bought a new pair of handcuffs, hinged metal handcuffs. He just wants to make sure you don't run away.

He keeps you in a dark room with a single mattress on the floor and a monitor to watch you. If it wasn't because of the context, Nanami could be the most passionate and romantic man that you could ask for, but he's your kidnapper and you are in a situation of life and death.

That one time you decided to talk back to him you got beaten up in a very nasty way. — "I'm sorry, my pet. But you need to understand that my word is the last one and you shouldn't talk back to me". He didn't even bother to clean the blood from your face or the tears of your eyes that day.

Are you into nudism? No? Oh well, you better start being a nudism enthusiast! Nanami could keep you naked, why would you need clothes anyway? He likes to grope your body and kiss you everywhere, especially after a long day of working with Geto (yes, he's with Geto). — "Hmm… Your skin is so soft, my love. Ah! No, no, no, don't try to fight back. You know that I owe you, this little cunt is all mine".

Now here is where things get bad for you. If you thought that Nanami could never want to use you to please his "special needs" you thought wrong. Yes, Nanami could fuck you even without your consent, he's a massive murdered, he doesn't need your permission or pleasure to feel good, in fact, he likes your face of distress and fear when he starts abusing your holds.

— "Hah… That's it…". This man the devil himself when he gets to fuck you, the only lub he needs it's your (forced) cum after he eats you out, and if he doesn't, oh well, I hope you be a masochist. — "Hmm! Are you crying already? Haha, oh dear, I'm just starting here. I'm gonna fuck this tiny cunt until you pass out again".

Of course, all of this is your fault. It's your fault that you're here with him, it's your fault for walking alone at night, it's your fault for being so freaking beautiful for him.

Nanami is terrifying. Even if you get some kind of Stockholm syndrome, you'll live terrified of him.

Let's say that you behave very well for him, accepting every single kind of abuse he has given you and even loving him back. He won't let you leave his apartment, but you now can walk around it and even sleep with him at night. Now you can even wear clothes! Of course, with no underwear underneath, he needs easy access to your pussy after all.

Even seeing you trying to look outside the window enrages him. He can't bear the possibility of another man wanting you, that's why he kidnapped you, after all, to keep you for him and him only. So that time when you attempted to escape and he caught you, he put the handcuffs on your wrist again and locked you in that dark and cold room again, as a punishment. — "You're mine. If you ever try to run away again, I'll beat you to death".

This man has brainwashed your mind after all these months to make you believe that you have no other choice but to be with him. He knows about your family and has threatened you to kill them if you ever leave him.

— "What if for our anniversary I give your womb a baby? Hmm? Couldn't you like it?". He's being serious, he wants a family with you. — "Oh, I know you don't want any children, dear, I know. But you have to understand that it could make me really happy, don't you want your boyfriend to be happy? What kind of girlfriend could you be if you don't make me happy?"

It's not like you could say no. If you decide to oppose he will beat you up and r word you, so be smart and accept to let him breed you.

— "You're so wet tonight, dear… Fuck, so fucking wet for me". With no other option left, you feel how Nanami is stretching your pussy with his (massive cof cof) dick. The best way to conceive a baby is in mating press, so Nanami is on top of you, with his tongue deep inside your mouth for a sloppy kiss as he's pounding all his cum to your uterus. — "Hah, darling! You're taking me so well, you have been milking me for hours now. Haha! I'm not done yet, I'm gonna get you pregnant tonight". His determination is kinda scary at his point, he's getting you and himself more than overstimulating as he cums for the 3rd time tonight. — "You're gonna look so lovely carrying my baby in your belly. Mhm, just thinking about it makes me hard again".

Getting pregnant or not, you now have to accept your new life. Any concept of freedom or a happy life has been already erased from your mind, now you can only try to bear with your new reality.

Yandere!Nanami is this sickeningly and abusive man. The one who privated you of your freedom, starves you from time to time, isolated you, abused you and forced you to make a family with him. You were so damn pretty that night when he found you, he couldn't just lose his opportunity, and only hell knows how happy he is to have found you.

good that our Nanami isn't like this at all, right? i'll write something sane and lovely about my man another day ‹𝟹

[heartfullofleeches]

ok but mono w stoner darling how would THAT go 😭

Funnily enough, I think these two could be quite happy together. How I imagine it is Mono first learns of Darling through the post they made while high out of their mind rambling about numerous topics from their life to whatever random shit their inebriated mind cooks up like how much it sucks food doesn't taste like it did when you bought it when you reheat it in the microwave. Mono finds their bizarre post cute, and it gives them some insight to the human world which is the excuse Mono uses to stalk their page.

Mono eventually reaches out to darling. They're on the fence about whether to reveal they are an alien royal or just pretending that they're a human liking Darling. Something tells them Darling wouldn't care too much either way, but they still aren't sure. It slips somewhere along the way, but as Mono first assumed Darling doesn't give a damn. Having an alien penpal is probably the coolest thing that ever happened to them. Mono keeps their distance for the most part, but one of Darling's post finally gives them the push to meet their starlight in person.

"The world feels so small sometimes... I look out at the stars some nights and I wonder if the universe is just as tiny. I'll probably never get to find out myself, but it's nice to dream that I could....."

"My ship is outside."

".....fr?"

Darling probably thinks they're joking around at first, but the second they step outside they see a big ass alien robot carrying a bouquet of their favorite flowers. Flowers they had told Mono about. Darling is glad to abandon their old life, but they don't think they have enough weed in their stash to last them for however long they're away. Mono's ten steps ahead of them on that front. Its always had a bit of a green thumb so adding a few herb plants to their horde was no sweat off their shoulders. Sectioned off an entire quarter of their garden/lab just to grown more for Darling. Dabbles around in edibles and oils as well - anything to make sure Darling is happy and feels like they never have to leave their ship beyond the trips they take to new worlds.

Mono would have Darling hooked up, but they'd also have Darling fucked up and high out of their mind playing around with different strains to ensure Darling gets the maximum high.

-

Mono: Starlight? You haven't given me an update on the last batch of edibles I brought to you. It has been roughly twelve hours since you digested them. Would you care for more?

Stoner Reader, cradling the ship ai's monitor they ripped out of a wall - staring at the ceiling as they whisper : I think.... I think I'm good for now

-

Mono is an amalgamation of flesh and metal so they probably could get stoned with Darling. They are a little hesitant about letting Darling update their blog due to still being in hiding from its family, but they cave everytime Darling asks them to join them for a picture flashing that adorable smile of theirs Mono can't help but fall more in love with whenever Darling blesses them with a glimpse of it.

[teenidlegirl]

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ❛ 𝓖𝐈𝐅𝐓 𝓑𝐀𝐒𝐊𝐄𝐓 𝓞𝐅 𝓛𝐎𝐕𝐄. ❜

ઇ ˚ ݂ ֹ ꒰ miguel o’hara 𝓍 fem!reader ꒱ ! ۟ ׅ ♡

ׄ   ׅ ྀ 𝓢𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘. it’s valentine’s day and everyone is celebrating with cute gifts. miguel isn’t too fond of the holiday but only celebrates it because of you. however, he isn’t too happy when he founds out how many gifts you’ve gotten from others. miguel decides to give you the best gift he could offer.

ׄ   ׅ ྀ 𝓒𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓. fluff, friends to lovers (ish), swearing, miguel is a big softie, some jealousy, cute moments

ׄ   ׅ ྀ 𝓛𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝓝𝐎𝐓𝐄. inspired by “about love” by marina, my valentine’s day anthem. another valentine’s day of me watching movies and eating candy. happy evol day! (marina stans get it) ♡

valentine’s day.

the day of romance and love.

gifts of flowers, candy, and cards passed all around HQ. the entire place is covered in valentine’s decorations. balloons, streamers, confetti, stickers, and glitter. a pink and red magical wonderland. pretty much everyone is wearing either red or pink.

except for one person; miguel. as the big grumpy bug himself, he doesn’t participate in the holiday. he showed up to work in his suit like usual. peter gave him a gift earlier, a hand dawned picture of him made by mayday. of course as the stubborn man he is, he refused at first but ultimately accepts it because mayday made it and it actually warmed his heart. he kept it, hidden somewhere in his desk. some of the young spiderlings miles, gwen and pav gave him candy and cards. miguel felt a bit awkward receiving gifts since he wasn’t use to that when he was younger, so it was a shock to him. he doesn’t really give a shit about valentine’s.

well — he has one reason to celebrate it: you.

like the vampire he is, miguel stays in his office observing the various orange monitors in front of him with a hunched back and balled fists. a faint feminine voice from the entrance of his office snaps him out of his workaholic thoughts. a voice he knows very well, an angelic voice he’ll listen to for an eternity. his ears detect light footsteps, knowing it’s you which makes the corner of his lips curl up into a smile.

as the platform lowers down, miguel thought about what type of gift he should get you. flowers are a bit cliche, same with chocolate and candy. he isn’t a fan of cards. those thoughts and his smile fade away as he turns around to see you carrying a shit ton of flowers and a teddy bear in your arms.

his heart fucking dropped.

“dude, i don’t think i’ve ever gotten so many flowers in my life.” you giggle as you walk up to the tiny desk near his and put down your gifts. seven bouquets of flowers and a cute teddy bear. you tell him each person you gotten a bouquet from. one was from webslinger, another from noir, and the rest were from peter variants. hobie got you the teddy bear.

while you were smiling and babbling, miguel was a sad puppy. so many other men got you nice gifts, fucking hobie got you a damn teddy bear. that felt like a slap in the face, making him frown. while thinking of possible gifts to get you, other men beat him to it. miguel feels beaten, especially the way you smile at your gifts and talk about them so happily. he wants to be mentioned like that. he wants you to smile at the gifts he’d give you like that.

“i only have one vase. i’ll just borrow some from my mom.” you snort before glancing at him. “oh! by the way, peni wanted me to give you your gift.” you remembered, turning around to grab the gift.

miguel blinks at you, snapping out of his sad thoughts. “what?” he sounds genuinely confused.

you hold out a tiny plushie in your hand, a smile gracing your lips. his eyes instantly land on the object and they widen at the gift. it’s a plushie of himself, in his suit but without his mask. his face has a scowl, furrowed brows and flat mouth with red eyes matching his own. miguel stares dumbfounded at his mini self. very slowly, he raises one hand and gingerly takes the plushie from your hand. it’s even smaller in his hand, how comical it looks which makes you smile. his thumb skims the material of the plushie, feeling the softness against his gloved palm.

“she made everyone their own. i got spider-cat since he’s my favorite.” you said, holding up the plushie version of spider-cat in your palm.

those crimson eyes snap back at you, a shocking look illustrated on his face. “what?” his voice cracks a little, feeling a bit sad by your statement. he isn’t your favorite spider-person, a cat is.

well, that adds more salt to the wound.

you shoot him a dumbfounded look, rolling your eyes. “oh come on, miguel. you know how much i love that cat. he’s the cutest.”

he rolls his eyes in return before widening once again. he noticed your outfit, a baby pink dress with ribbon sleeves (i have this dress and i love it so much, one of my favs). oh wow — you look beautiful. there goes his heart skipping a beat like usual. his cheeks grew warm, same shades of pink as your dress.

you turn around and grab the teddy bear, hugging it against your chest. “so, did you get any gifts? besides that.” you point at the plushie.

miguel was too fixated on you holding the teddy bear hobie got for you. a sting of jealousy forms in his heart. “i uh… mayday drew me a picture.” he adverts his gaze from yours, glancing the plushie of himself in his palm, giving it a light squeeze.

“awww how cute! of what? you?” you asked.

he nods shyly, still avoiding your gaze. “yeah…”

“i would’ve gotten you something too but i’m too poor as fuck right now.” you shoot him an apologetic smile, feeing a bit guilty.

miguel immediately looks up at you, shaking his head. “no, it’s fine. don’t worry about it.” he said reassuringly, taking a step forward.

you shook your head, softly smiling. “nah i’ll get you something for sure, eventually.”

goddamnit you’re too kind, and cute. you could kill him with your cuteness and he’ll die happily. his heart continues beating faster for you.

“i promise to get you something too.” he said, truly meaning his words.

you snort. “i think i have enough gifts.” you quickly glance at the bouquets on the desk then look back at him. “but if you do, don’t get the same thing.” a soft chuckle spills from your glossy lips.

oh miguel is definitely getting you something, hopefully something different and unique. however, that’s going to be quite the challenge because what could be considered a unique valentine’s gift? some research he’ll have to do, and luckily as a scientist himself, it won’t be a hassle.

⠀⠀⠀⠀𓂃 ୨ ₊ 𓂃 ౨ৎ   𓂃 ₊ ୧   𓂃

numerous hours of research for a unique valentine’s day gift. after he left HQ, miguel was cooped up in his penthouse searching gift ideas. as his assistant, lyla helped him by giving him a few suggestions. of course she can’t go without teasing him about his little crush on you. sometimes he regrets having lyla a personality of her own. finally, an idea popped up in her tiny ai mind, a light bulb above her head.

“oh! i got it!” the ai exclaims, clapping her hands. “you should make her a gift basket.”

one of his thick brows arched, looking at the tiny ai assistant with a confused expression. “what? a gift basket? how is that a unique gift?”

“because, dumbo, you can put all things she likes in the basket. like her favorite scented candles, candy, flowers, plushies, snacks, drinks, self-care products, mugs, balloons, cards.” lyla suggests.

he ponders for a moment. “that… actually is a good idea.” he said softly, mainly to himself. “but she already has tons of flowers.”

“well, then make her crochet flowers. trust me, women love them.” she smirks, folding her arms.

miguel blinks at her, visibly confused even more. “crochet flowers? what the hell is that?” he has never heard of that term before, mainly because he lives in a futuristic society so technology and other resources are different.

the ai rolls her eyes and sighs. “flowers made of yarn.” she elaborated. “if you make them and give them to her, she wouldn’t have to worry about them dying in a few days. she’ll keep them forever.”

keep them forever? you keeping the flowers he made for you without going to waste? now that convinced miguel. he can imagine those crochet flowers on your dresser or desk. you gushing over them, how they will always remind you of him. his heart skipped a beat at the adorable thought, smiling to himself.

“give me a list of materials for this crochet flowers thing.” miguel orders.

lyla salutes with a smile. “on it, boss.”

miguel knows what things you like. favorite drink, snack, candle scent. this gift basket seems to be a perfect idea, gift for you. he’s gonna to make sure it’ll be the cutest gift basket you’ll ever receive.

after work, he visited multiple stores and bought your favorite items and materials for crocheting. since it’s a valentine’s gift, everything is pink. once he got home, he searched up multiple gift basket ideas. lyla encouraged him to look on pinterest, a site he’s never heard of but went along with it. he was actually impressed by the amount of creative ideas the site offered. definitely will use it for future date ideas. miguel wants this gift basket to be perfect so he is fully dedicated to the mini project, pouring all of his effort just to see that beautiful smile of yours.

after arranging the basket, which he was very proud of, miguel starts working on the crocheting project. however, it was a lot harder than he anticipated. he watches tutorial videos but ends up failing numerous times, making him frustrated. his penthouse was filled with angry grunts and tossing shit around.

“grunting and throwing things isn’t gonna help you.” lyla teases, smirking at the grumpy man.

the brunette rolls his eyes. “how is something that looks so simple is impossible to make?” he runs a hand through his dark chocolate locks.

the ai sighs. “you just gotta take time with it. don’t think too much and give it another shot.”

miguel stares at the scribbles of yarn in his hand. after closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, he decides to give crocheting another shot.

after watching the tutorial videos and actually taking his time with it, following each step, he finally got the hang of it and successfully made the bouquet. it’s not perfect but he tried and actually looks quite decent for his first time attempt at crocheting. miguel was a happy camper, smiling at his little project made just for you. now with the completed gift basket, he hopes you’ll like it. miguel is eager (anxious) to see your reaction.

⠀⠀⠀⠀𓂃 ୨ ₊ 𓂃 ౨ৎ   𓂃 ₊ ୧   𓂃

it’s still a few hours left of valentine’s day when miguel arrives at your apartment. he stands there anxiously in front of the door dressed in a black buttoned up shirt, a pair of black slacks and black dress shoes. his hair slicked back. his fingers grip nervously on the basket handle. god miguel hasn’t been this nervous in who knows how long. feeling like a teenage boy asking his crush to be his valentine. technically, that is what he’s doing but as a grown ass man obviously. his heart pumps out his chest, palms a bit clammy, one foot tapping the floor.

inhaling a shaky breath, he gently knocks on the door and waits for you. his grip on the basket handle tightens when he hears the locks open before the door opens revealing your angelic presence.

his eyes dilate drastically and mouth hangs open slightly as he slowly takes in the sight of angel blessing his eyes. you are wearing a different dress that hugs your curves so graciously. gorgeous curls of your hair curving your pretty face. makeup done beautifully yet natural, matching the dress. it seems like you went out or are going to since you’re dressed so nicely. miguel is just too enthralled by you.

“oh, sup man.” you softly smile at the tall brunette, titling your head as you lean against the door.

he blinks out of trance, realizing he must’ve look like a fool for staring. “uh… hi.” miguel clears his throat, offering you an awkward smile. he knows you’re going to ask him why he’s here. so, he lifts up the gift basket and holds it in front of you with a bashful expression. “happy valentine’s day.”

your eyes immediately land on the gift basket and your heart melts. it’s a tiny basket decorated in baby pink with a matching bow on the handle along with baby pink tissue paper inside, completely filled with your favorite items, which are all in pink. a candle of your favorite scent. a bag of your favorite chip brand and another of candy. some self-care products like a face mask and moisturizer. a pink butterfly plushie, miguel calls you “mariposa” so it seems fitting. and finally, the crochet bouquet. a bouquet of your favorite flowers made of yarn.

miguel watched your enthralled face, making his own warm up. he just stands there like the bashful mess he is, presenting his crush her valentine’s day gift. hints of cheeks staining his sharp cheeks, heart pounding in his chest like a drum and palms growing more sweatier due to anxiousness.

a very thin layer of tears began forming in your eyes, making you bite your lip to hold them back. “you… you made this?… just for me?…” your gaze fixates between the basket and miguel.

he nods sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand. “yeah… i though since you already have so many gifts of the same stuff…” he shyly meets your gaze. “a gift basket would be nice.”

and you thought your heart couldn’t melt even more. “i… you didn’t have to go through all that effort for me.” you said with a tiny pout.

miguel shook his head. “that’s why i did it. para ti.” he said sincerely, ruby eyes bore into yours.

oh my god, this man. he’s fucking perfect.

those tears were threatening to spill. your heart is utterly melted. you tenderly take the basket from his grasp. “this is the sweetest gift i’ve ever received. thanks, miguel.” you shoot him smile.

oh he was a happy camper. a big feeling of relief and accomplishment flowing through his body. plus, he got that beautiful smile. “of course, mi mariposa.” he mirrors your smile, overjoyed with your reaction.

you softly chuckle at the nickname. “i would totally marry you.”

his eyes widen dramatically at your shocking comment, making him blush more. “r-really?”

you giggle at his flustered face. “oh definitely.” you step away to place the gift basket on the counter then put on a pair of comfy shoes. “so where are we going?” you ask as you put on a tiny cardigan.

miguel blinks at you confusingly. “going?”

“yeah, for our valentine’s day date.” you softly smile, grabbing your mini white purse as you step out the door and lock it.

valentine’s day date? holy shit — miguel didn’t believe he would get this far. you wanna go on a date? with him? wow it’s like a dream come true. however, he doesn’t any idea on where to take you. he needs to look at the pinterest ‘date ideas’ list.

“i uh…” miguel rubs his jaw, thinking of what possible place he can take you. he doesn’t want to take you to generic places like a restaurant, movie theater, the park. just like his gift, miguel wants the date to be unique. then, he remembers the local carnival in town. “the carnival is still open, we can head there.” he offers his arm to you, smiling as he watches your face light up at his suggestion.

“oooo yes! i’ve been wanting to go there since it opened.” you wrap your arm around his as you two start walking away together.

“well, i’m happy to take you there first.” miguel offers a little smile, gazing at you with adoration.

you smile at each other, walking together as you head off into the night of your valentine’s day date, indulging in a night of fun and romance.

© teenidlegirl. don’t steal, plagiarize, or translate my work. ♡

[ghostaholics]

I’m laughing so hard with the enemies with benefits trope, it’s the only thing keeping me sane right now.What if she gets badly hurt during a mission, and ends up unconscious for days, and Ghost stays by her side waiting for her to wake up and when she does, instead of a heartwarming conversation they instantly start to insult each other

The amount of time it took for them to stabilize her had been... long.

Too long.

So long, in fact that they'd had to resuscitate her twice during transport and somewhere in between their (inadequate, by his standards) attempts at life-saving measures and him taking over compressions (he'd bullied his way onto the carrier, of course, much to the displeasure of the rest of the medical flight personnel and was the only one willing to continue even after they'd seriously considered calling the time of death), there was a brief moment where he'd really thought she wasn't going to make it. And for exactly 34 minutes, he'd kept thinking to himself what a goddamn shame it'd be to lose her (not for himself, but for the 1-4-1, the good of the team, obviously). Except then they'd found her pulse again, faint and barely hanging on just under skin, albeit still there – thank-fucking-Jesus – and Simon had finally allowed himself to let out a sigh of breath that he hadn't realized he'd been holding the entire time.

It's been about 72 hours since she was initially transferred to the trauma center by helo (or 71 hours and 53 minutes if he wants to get really technical, not that he’s keeping track). This surly, hulking beast of a man managed to fold himself into that tiny hospital chair – has a damn crick in his neck now, stiffness in his muscles from that pathetic excuse of a recliner. And he's had to camp out as a sniper for lengthy intervals before, slept on the ground or up against a fucking tree depending on the situation without complaint, so this should be any different, but he's had to shift positions frequently just to take the edge off because it's bothering him that much; Christ, the things he does for her.

And after waiting all this damn time, he's finally rewarded with some evidence of actual consciousness – the too-thin, threadbare hospital sheets stirring with movement out of the corner of his eye. Simon rises from his seat, completely neglecting his lunch (hadn't even really been able to eat properly until recently, because his appetite was pretty much shite after the whole cardiac arrest thing) and strides over to check on whether or not she's waking up.

She blinks, groggily, eyes adjusting to her surroundings and trying to place where exactly she is before a shadow passes over her line of vision and blocks the annoying fluorescent lights. It’s – oh.

Simon's face comes into view, peering down at her with an expression that she doesn’t quite recognize. This one’s new; she doesn’t have a name for it, but if she were to hazard a guess, it seems an awful lot like concern – or at least his version of whatever that may be. She watches him quietly. Her gaze isn’t as disoriented anymore and she tracks his hand, the way it comes up to cup her jaw, warm palm sliding over her skin in an invitation to lean into his touch.

“Really glad you woke up,” he murmurs, low but still loud enough to be heard over the rhythmic beeping of the bedside monitor. And Simon, being Simon, doesn't forget to add, “There's so many reports I've been waiting for you to sign off on.”

She closes her eyes with a small smile gracing her lips. Her voice is rough from disuse, but the sarcasm behind it is a familiar sound. “Wish I'd been out for longer. Was nice not having you nag my ear off – best damn sleep I've gotten in ages, y'know.”

[quinnyundertow]

Your writing has made me absolutely fall head over heels in love with Yuta! You write him so well that I look at him in a completely different light now in the manga/anime. Also, I'm very excited for the Toji sequences upcoming in WICYG! xoxo

This made me so damn happy you have no idea! I adore him to know it made you love him more just- BE STILL MY HEART!

I’ve always wanted to write out my Yuta!head-canons and this made me go all in hahaha (Sorry bestie but I hope you enjoy them)

If you forced me to pick a fav from JJK it would 100000% be Yuta. He’s so complex and yet simple as a character. He experienced so much abuse/neglect (from parents, classmates, teachers, even Rika) as a young child due to seeing/having Rika in a non sorcerer environment. Gege said Yuta doesn’t have a close relationship with his parents but is close with a little sister. That’s so easy for me to imagine.

Yuta! Head-canon: His parents are both working full time when the tragedy with Rika happens. They feel so guilty but relieved that their son survived. As time goes on however Yuta won’t stop crying at night about this monster version of his dead best friend haunting him. At first they would pour everything into trying to get him medical help but as the years go by and psychiatrists say he’s seeking attention the care turns to frustration. Probably culminating in a, “Get over it! I don’t want to hear about her ever again!” Type of argument.

Yuta!Head-canon: His little sister would have been a safe person to him. Maybe five years younger than him so they really never talked about that girl Rika who “moved away” when they were little. Rika wouldn’t feel as threatened as she’s his sister and a younger child so I could see her allowing him to form a relationship with him. At least at first. Deep down Rika is kind but she’s still a curse jealousy would crop up or a normal sibling fight could have ended with Rika hurting his little sister only for Yuta to further isolate.

Yuta!head-canon: He is hyper aware of others emotions and if there are changes to someone’s regular personality. He remembers tiny details of everything because that’s how he had to survive growing up. He had to monitor Rika constantly for little changes that could indicate she may explode or cause issues. This aspect also causes him to empathize deeply even with those who may not deserve it. He doesn’t want Rika to kill his bullies because he’s seen the kid menacing him is getting bullied by upperclassmen and understands what that means. That said if they fuck with someone he cares about all that empathy goes out the window and he’s going to make sure it doesn’t happen again.

Yuta!Head-canon: Yuta has a circle of people very close to him and once you’re in that circle he is a true ride or die. Ask him for anything and trust that shit is getting done no matter how sketchy it sounds. He is the true definition of unconditional love (We all saw how Rika got and he still deeply loved her. ) and would support and trust you totally once you have proved worthy of it by actions.

Yuta!Headcanon: He is quick to fall in love and quick to let them go. If you give him even the littlest bit of praise or extra attention he’s going to get a crush on you. He can’t help it. He’s always held everyone so far away from him so any sort of domestic or doting affection would make him melt. That said he has always had to create firm boundaries around himself and others to protect people so if you told him you’re not interested or not to text you he would abide by that completely.

Yuta!headcanon his personality is that of self sacrifice. He could never be a yandere. He understands and thinks that your life would be better without him in it. How could he try and force someone to be with him? He accidentally did that to Rika and it plagued his mind constantly and was willing to die to let her rest in peace.

I had so much fun writing these out and sorry I hijacked your post!!! I’m so happy you enjoy the story and Toji’s entry should be fun!!!! Thank you for the ask love!!!

[boxboxlewis]

“Hello! Welcome to Self(help), and please do shout if I can be of assistance,” George says, and of course the words are rote but hopefully he also sounds warm and welcoming or whatever. He’s sitting behind the till, doing some online shopping, not really focussed on the customer who’s just come in.

“Do you really only sell self-help books?” the customer asks, and—that voice is familiar. George looks up and nearly falls off his stool, because that face is familiar too: there in his shop, real and breathing and somehow taller than George had expected, is Alex Albon. He’s got giant sunglasses on, and a trendy little scarf around his neck, but as a disguise it’s hardly adequate; Alex is probably one of the most recognisable people in the world, especially since his Oscar win last year. George tries to casually push the hair back off his forehead, and is so distracted he almost slaps himself in the face. 

“Er,” he says. What was Alex’s question? Oh right, self-help books. “Yes, is the short answer,” he says, and then for reasons known only to his frontal lobe keeps talking. “I had a really hard time getting a loan to start the business, because the banks were all like ‘Do people even buy self-help books anymore now that there’s Google,’ but we’re doing really well now, actually. It helped a lot when Brené Brown gave us a shoutout on Instagram, but even before that—er—sorry, you don’t care about any of this, do you. Well. If you need any help—or any self!—just let me know!”

Alex is just staring at him. George does a tight little sorry-I-fucked-up-socially smile, and turns his attention back to the chinos on his computer monitor, heart racing.

Lando emerges from the back of the shop. “George, if I do any more work I’ll literally die,” he says earnestly. Or maybe sarcastically; George doesn’t really understand Gen Z humour, probably because he refuses to join TikTok. “I shelved, like, an entire box of books, so I’m just going to honour myself now and take some time to self-care. I’m going out for a coffee if you want anything.” He notices Alex standing in the middle of the shop floor and flashes him an artificial smile. “Welcome to Self(help), if you take a picture for socials remember to hashtag us!” 

“Flat white,” George says automatically. Lando nods and leaves the shop. He really hadn’t clocked Alex at all, which is surprising at first, until George considers how monumentally self-absorbed Lando is at all times. 

“Is that your employee,” Alex asks. 

“Yes,” George says, “I did something wrong in a past life, it’s very—do you like candles?”

“Candles,” says Alex Albon, who is still very much in George’s shop.

“We’ve got a lovely selection,” George explains.

Alex pauses thoughtfully. “No,” he says, and then, after a long-ish pause, “thanks.” 

George nods.

Alex says, “Look, I only came in here to get away from some teenagers who were taking pictures of me.”

“Oh, yeah, right,” George says, as if that’s a very universal experience that he naturally has shared.

“So I’m just going to—” Alex gestures towards the door, and the road.

“Yes,” George says. “Of course. It was lovely to—er. Encounter you.”

Alex’s mouth quirks up. He says, “It was lovely to encounter you, too.” And then he walks back into the outside world.

George is still dazed about the whole thing when he goes out a few minutes later to get himself a flat white, Lando having arrived back in the shop bearing only a drink for himself (“Oh, shit, I forgot you wanted something… I’d offer to go back out but my legs are really sore now, so…”). He’s not really looking where he’s walking, so it’s jarring but not surprising when he knocks into someone and spills his newly-acquired coffee down their chest. It’s surprising but somehow inevitable when he realises that someone is Alex Albon.

“You again. I’ve got to say, this encounter is less lovely,” Alex says, mopping irritatedly at his sopping t-shirt with his tiny scarf. George joins in, patting with his bare palm at Alex’s chest as if that’s going to help at all, then pulling his hand back like he’s been burned when Alex raises his sunglasses up so he can level George with a look.

“I—sorry! God, right, I swear I’m usually less of a mess”—this is untrue—“but I actually—if you want to get changed, into, you know, a non-drenched shirt, I actually live just over the street—”

Alex exhales, and slides his sunglasses back onto the face. “I’m fine, thanks. I’ll just… go on my coffee-covered way.”

“You can’t,” George says, “think of the headlines—‘Alex Albon in caffeine frenzy’—‘he didn’t realise you’re meant to drink it, sources say’—my house really is so close. We can get you all cleaned up in no time.”

Alex considers him for a long moment. “Give it to me in metres,” he says. And that’s how the rest of George’s life begins.

for @onadarklingplain, who suggested that notting hill au george would own a bookshop that only sold self-help.. nothing has ever been truer!! kay thank you for reading this over & for talking about galex with me 💓

[winsmoke]

Inspired by Chanyeol’s “Tomorrow,” afab y/n x jaehyun, stand alone idol au, <1k of longing and pining, tiny angst & smut; minors dni

Jaehyun’s eyes follow you. Follow your eyes. Why aren’t they on his?

Somehow, amongst the high pitched chatter and glitzy music on the rooftop bar, you sense his gaze and within a minute, you approach him with a wobbly smile. It’s easy to tell that you’re trying to hide your excitement.

“Jaehyun,” you greet, covering your grin with your hands.

Jaehyun takes your hand in his. It’s warm like his.

He gently lifts your wrist, bringing the back of your hand up to his eyes. “Still wearing green nail polish?” he comments.

“Still blind?” you respond.

Jaehyun can’t think of what to say. He’s just smiling dumbly.

It’s been a month since he’s last seen you. It’s never often. And even when he’s lucky, and he gets a few days with you, it’s not enough. But you always come back to him. Whether it’s in his instagram comments or his dreams. You walk in and out of his life like you’re wandering around the world just to return to him.

He takes in your beauty and longs to slip his fingers between yours but there’s too many people around.

“Walk me out?” you ask, casually slipping your arm around his.

“You’re leaving already?” Jaehyun asks.

“Social battery’s drained,” you admit as you look longingly towards the doors.

“Let’s go somewhere quieter,” he suggests. “Catch up.”

You shake your head slowly, your tired expression surfacing. “It’s been a long day.”

In the elevator ride down, Jaehyun does his best to convince you otherwise.

Stay with me, Jaehyun tries to say while trying to tempt you into getting ice cream with him. You’ve always had a sweet tooth but you’re quick to refuse. You’re sad but firm.

In the flash of darkness as the elevator doors pull part, Jaehyun watches as your eyes squeeze together. As if getting yourself ready to leave him.

But he bites back the disappointment and watches your Uber drive away.

“Tomorrow,” you had promised before getting in the car. “I’ll text you tomorrow.”

Tomorrow, Jaehyun thinks solemnly.

Tomorrow’s another full day. Carted to SM headquarters for meetings, dance and vocal practice until exhaustion takes over and then he’s carted back. Another day of being monitored, of monitoring.

That’s what makes you so special. Somehow so separate from all of that. No one knows about you.

My secret. Mine without being mine.

There’s these small windows of escape that you provide. And tomorrow with you promises another day of escape.

In his bed, Jaehyun wonders what you’ll text him. He wonders if you’ll continue to unravel him. He wonders how much he’ll allow to be unraveled.

If he could just let go, you could be his. If he could just let you in, you’d be in his arms right now. How can he tell you how much he needs you when he doesn’t know himself?

If only he could admit how much he misses your voice and how wonderful you sound when you’re humming your favorite songs. How he adores your ranting and your strange way of sneezing.

Your birthday and christmas cards on his nightstand, he touches them the way he wants to touch your cheek.

He can imagine how it’d be living with you and not with his members. There would be no closed doors, no privacy.

He has the feeling that you’d want to be naked all the time. That he’d want you to be naked all the time.

Jaehyun longs for the body that isn’t his. He claws over your body in his mind. Thinks about how he would make out with you for hours, raking over your ass, hips, boobs, and thighs until they’re shivering with need. He thinks about teasing you endlessly until you’re begging to be filled. Tasting you and fucking you until neither of you can think.

He knows you want him. You know he wants you. But for now, his imagination has to be enough.

He imagines you giving him head in the shower. Thinks about bending you over the bed. Jaehyun tries watching porn but what gets him off is thinking about how’d you moan for him.

He’s reaching for his phone, reaching for you. He needs to call you, needs to hear your voice. But what would he say?

Finger lingering over the FaceTime button, Jaehyun imagines you asleep in your achingly empty bed. You’d be cranky if he calls now. But he likes you when your cranky. But not quite like.

Jaehyun sighs, letting his phone fall next to his shoulder before closing his eyes.

Maybe tomorrow. He’ll tell you he loves you then.

[kikyan]

Yandere Ignihyde Headcanons

TW: Dark content up ahead!! Yandere headcanons means yandere content y’all! Mentions of abuse and violent acts either towards the reader or the character!! Mental instability, gaslighting, manipulation, obsession, stalking, possessiveness etc. (I don’t think I’m missing anything but as always, please let me know if I miss anything!!) This is your TW please proceed with caution!! 

DISCLAIMER: These are my interpretations of his/her/their persona and none of these is 100% accurate. I don't condone any of these actions in real life and all of this is purely fictional and should be taken as such! Underage characters will ONLY  be given SFW headcanons, please respect this decision!

As always, the lovely banner was made by @herestrish​ and they worked hard on it, so please don’t steal (or I’ll send Ortho to air strike you)

Also, while Ortho does have some headcanons they’re NOT romantic but rather platonic and how he helps Idia get with his S/O! I REPEAT NOT ROMANTIC THE MINOR IS SAFE! 

Idia Shroud 

So some part of me wanted to wait until the end of book 6 so I could get a more accurate picture of his personality but because book 6 won’t be fully out till the end of March (even though I finished the book through a YouTube translation. . .) and Book 7 dropped the biggest fucking cliffhanger of them all, it’s my mission to get Ingnihyde and Diasomnia completed asap. A good writer admits their faults and the previous sentence is long enough, don’t make your sentences that long. That being said, Idia’s traits include clinginess, possessiveness, stalking, overprotective, and obsessiveness. 

Unsure how to format them, but let’s get this out the way, even as a yandere he will have low self-esteem. In fact, I think it gets lower. He feels he’s unworthy of being in the same room as you, let alone breathe the same air. He would worship his darling but that’s a point for later. The biggest thing with Idia is how he approaches you or in this case, how he doesn’t. He’s stalking you all the way. If he ever goes out in public he’d follow close. He’s a bit clumsy at it so you may catch a couple of glimpses of him but he tries his hardest to make sure you don’t find him. That would be more embarrassing than it already is. Emphasizing his stalking and obsessiveness. His eyes will watch you like a hawk, taking in any information he can get. It doesn’t even have to be useful, he takes it all in. It could be what you have for lunch on Fridays but he’s already built a whole schedule surrounding that tiny piece of information. This hour you do this, when you get like this you do that, you listen to this playlist when you get upset, you study in intervals, etc. Like Rook, he’s not picky with the information, he just takes it all in. I think he would be the type to install cameras or hack into existing ones to keep an eye on you. 

This would help tie in his overprotectiveness. Would he outright come and save you? Probably. . .but he’d rather stay in the shadows. If you played the new years event while waiting in line I believe the line was rowdy causing someone to push Ortho and Idia defended him. Even going into battle and then his dorm backed him, it was so sweet. :)) Meaning when push comes to shove, he’s willing to shove back but this would be a last resort. Mind you, I think he prefers stalking you through cameras as opposed to in person. I think he would have a monitor just to keep track of you and may even have it as background noise. If you do something unexpected it would get him interested as he closely follows you through each camera. He’s honestly playing FNAF with you as he tracks you down. Maybe something unexpected happens and you’re getting stopped by some upperclassmen? He would see through the cameras and maybe ask Ortho to intervene, but if Ortho isn’t there I can see him setting up a live broadcast with the footage and possibly scaring them. Maybe you as well. If he is following in person and Ortho is nowhere to be seen, he’s the type to throw a rock in the other direction in hopes of drawing their attention. When they’re distracted, take that chance to run. Maybe, just maybe he’d run out to grab your hand and take you with him but until then, you’re going to have to learn how to pick up cues and signals. 

As I mentioned briefly, he prefers to be the savior in the night and stay in the shadows. He won’t bite off more than what he can chew but he’s down to play hero as a last resort. That being said, knowing where you are and what you’re doing at all times brings him comfort. Animes and series following the same plot devices sometimes gets repetitive and take the fun away, but it's different when it’s you. He can breathe easily and avoid heart attacks if he knows you don't stray off from the schedule he’s created. Despite never meeting/his lack of interaction/his low self-esteem, he’s quite possessive. He’s unworthy of breathing the same air and being close to you, but so are they. The world is a cruel place and anyone is out to get you. Why would you talk to them? Sure he gets maybe talking to someone from the main cast (breaking the fourth wall I think) but some side character? Someone who isn’t popular? You can’t be serious. He’s not that special, but surely he has more to offer no? His possessiveness stems from worry though, not a sense of keeping you his per-say. Literally, he’s the “nobody gets them but me”. Nobody gets you, they may think they do but they don’t. Idia does, sure he may not look like much but at least he’s not lying. Leading me to my second point, I think he would kidnap you. What? Kidnap?? Rest assured it’s not a conscious decision. He regrets it the minute he does it but he can’t exactly let you go now, can he? It’s going to be an awkward situation for sure. On the rope-chain-saw scale (mind you the scale is mostly used for how restricted/uptight they are) he’d be a rope. It’s awkward and he certainly doesn’t mean to keep you here, but he can’t let you go because who knows what you’d say? Likewise, you’re not a prisoner, and by no means does he intend to treat you like one. He doesn’t impose too many restrictions and if he does, it’s caused by his anxiety. He regrets kidnapping you but he can’t let you go in fear of being found out so he probably taped your mouth or has you bound with rope. 

He’s the type to anxiously state, “if I take the tape off promise not to scream?” When he does, if you do scream he’d probably put it right back. He’s anxious and goes about it the wrong way, but he doesn’t mean any harm. The end goal is for you to be able to roam freely in his room or maybe go back to NRC without saying anything. He wants a connection with you, imagine you choose to stay by his side, play games with him, maybe enjoy the same shows he does and get along. Corny (I don’t want to say player 2 because that’s so overused but it’s similar) but I think all he wants is someone to get along with him and understand him, you know? That’s assuming it goes well, of course, bringing me to his unique trait. Despite all, I think Idia wants your attention on him 25/8 to the point he doesn’t care what kind of attention it is. You could be in his room all day and be around him all day and he’s content. After he kidnaps you and you hate his guts, as long as you direct that hatred toward him he’s content. He doesn’t care if you insult him because that means your words are being thrown and directed AT HIM. If you get physical and start to punch and hit him, he doesn’t mind because it’s YOUR hands on him. I don’t want to say he’s a masochist but honestly? He might be as long as it’s you. Spew insults, degrade him, praise him, hug him, hit him, love him, hate him, wish for his downfall, or pray for his success. It doesn’t matter because as long as it’s FROM you, he’ll eat it up. 

I want to say as a danger, he’s maybe a 5/10. He’s smart and has a lot of available resources but he probably would never hurt you. Do I think if provoked he may say “damn it all to hell” and lash back? Maybe, maybe at some point, the power dynamic gets to him and he’s finally the boss(cue book 6 content) so he’s the one calling the shots. It takes a long while for that to occur so in the meantime you’re alright. Again, he can be a danger but I think above all he wants you guys to get along. 

Ortho Shroud 

BEFORE ANYONE SAYS ANYTHING THESE ARE PLATONIC!! ORTHO IS A WINGMAN!! Sorry, I need to say that before people come for me. Promise, Ortho is a wingman for y’all relationship. Seeing as how I don’t have traits for him the formatting will be a bit off, but nonetheless, here we go! 

Ortho is over the moon that Idia likes someone! Ortho is someone who wants Idia to be happy and succeed in life. I think in book 6 (granted spoilers but I’m not caught up to the English server) when the kidnapped students and Idia, along with Ortho are on lockdown they play games. Idia talks about a game he really enjoys but explains how it’s not going to have a sequel. Vil offers that Idia can get the creators to continue the series or if anything, Idia can do it himself. While Idia expresses that it’s impossible, Vil comments how if you don’t try then the chances are always going to be 0%. If you try though, even if it’s 0.001%, it has the possibility of being 100%. All Ortho wants, if for Idia to live his life to the fullest. Honestly, pulling out a sad headcanon because I don’t think it’s been confirmed, Ortho wants Idia to live a life where he doesn’t feel guilty for what happened to him. I know that Ortho is 100% a robot and that aside from the memories that Idia managed to give him, he has no connection to the original, but his creation is proof of that. So if Idia manages to like someone, Ortho will do everything he can to make sure Idia does try to court you. 

Ortho would try to get Idia to be the subject of the conversation. If Idia isn’t present in the conversation with the others, he’ll sneak him in. Do you like those games? Sweet, his brother Idia plays that game as well! He’s actually really good at it so if you need any pointers ask him! Do you like that brand of sweets? What a coincidence, so does his brother! If anything, he’ll bring him up so much that you feel the need to ask about Idia. He’d be so happy! You’re asking him about his brother? Well, where should he start? Ortho is just a wingman doing his best to help his brother. Idia and Leona are quite similar in the sense that they both accepted their fate. Leona will never be king and Idia well, he’ll always be a slave to the land of woe and his family's occupation. Having someone who can help you, whether it be a best friend or a possible love interest helps a lot. If Idia saw you talking to someone else and lost motivation, Ortho would run ‘scans’ to test your compatibility. “Even if they were to date, they would have a 78% chance of breaking up before the first week so it doesn’t mean anything. Your compatibility is around 83%, higher than anyone else at the college, don’t lose hope!” 

I see Ottho as being the type to create situations where you have to meet. Though I know he takes online courses, he has to go out eventually. That is when Ortho strikes. Imagine Idia goes to get food at a later time when nobody is out and suddenly on your magicam feed you see an ad for food. Totally not Ortho somehow being involved to get you to go, “oh boy am I hungry” resulting in you and Idia being in the same room as each other. Though he’s awkward and it’s mostly you conversing with him (a one-sided conversation), Ortho would encourage Idia to comment or at the least say something! Since Ortho is probably the one getting more information out of you through legal and ethical means, he probably brings up a series that you recently watched. “So how did you like that episode [Reader] of [Series]” then suddenly, Idia is intrigued. He’ll start to confirm if you really did watch the series, what are your thoughts on it? Who did you like the most? Suddenly, you two get into a deep conversion where you analyze each and every character, the plot, and hidden easter eggs. Ortho lets you two talk, this mission was a success! 

If we’re talking about Ortho after you’re together or when he’s stalking/kidnapping you, Ortho is your source of comfort. Ortho would do what he can to make you feel at ease and make your stay more comfortable. If you’re together with Idia, he’d be the one who sometimes monitors you or has your location on at all times. Maybe even escort you to class and back! I can see the both of you trying to break Idia out of his shell little by little, honestly, he’s so sweet and happy that you’re with his brother. If Idia is stalking you, he may send Ortho to keep you safe. If someone tries to mess with you they might get an air strike warning or Ortho does what he can to memorize that student so that Idia can ruin his reputation online, of course, nothing tracing back to him! If you’re kidnapped and chilling in his room because he can’t let you go, Ortho would be nice to you! He’ll reassure you that Idia means no harm but he just acted without thinking. He’d do what he can to bring you guys together and to break the very well and much reasonable distrust you have against Idia (Just because Ortho is trying to help Idia I’m not excusing or condoning this behavior).

[centrally-unplanned]

Those hip to the Ash Lore might remember me trying and failing to extract something from the FLCL Collectors Disc:

Namely, a collection of screensavers - we in the 2000's boys - that came with the disc. Everything else is pretty easy to pull, but screensavers are OS-based, these were built for a 2002-era Japanese version of Windows, which is not the easiest thing to emulate these days! My attempts to do so failed.

But the Power of the Internet cannot be so easily deterred; yesterday after posting about the abandoned fanwork FLCL fighting game, god-tier hero of the internet @m-accost messaged me that it reminded them of the CD, and being the coder I am not they were able to extract the data from the .exe directly. That revealed that its actually an SWF aka Flash file, which you can just emulate with any of the extant flash players, no Japanese OS bullshit required. So they did, and now you can play the screensavers from your browser right from the Internet Archive!

Discovering the images would have been nice but honestly a bit useless - as I had guessed, its all screenshots from the show. But extracted as screensavers, they have really cool transitions, music from The Pillows Soundtrack, and fun coloring effects. The coolest are absolutely VESPA.exe, which has a chaotic tiling effect:

And MANGA.exe recreated the 'moving manga' style sequence from the show. Ironically, GIRLS.exe is the *most* boring - cashing in on the name on that one GAINAX.

Making such things accessible is of course an exceedingly tiny win, but A: any Lost Media found is good, and this was pseudo-lost media due to its inaccessibility; and B: these kind of things were way more valuable in their original context. The internet in 2002 did not have readily accessible dumps of every frame of the show, gifs of key sequences, easy downloads of whole episodes, every promotional image digitized, etc. Some of it existed in some form for savvy users, but the median person would not ever transition an episode of TV to their computer at all. As such, recreations of things like the ending credits and the moving manga sequence, even in this very different form, was for some people the most accessible way they had to put a piece of media they loved on their computer. For someone somewhere this CD was a big deal in 2002, and its great to be able to see what they saw in it.

Also fucking screensavers man, just an amazing relic of computer tech. Gotta prevent burn-in of the pixels on your cathode ray tube monitor! And if you are doing that with HARUKO.exe you have won at life.

(tagged @flclarchives since I think you will be interested in this, and ofc @m-accost thank you for the amazing work, I am just the reporter on this one)