#not exactly popular enough on here to get this to spread but let's see what happens anyway

[greengoblinswifey]

𝑭𝒂𝒎𝒆’𝒔 𝑬𝒅𝒈𝒆 ・₊✧🩶 Part II

Pairing— Nicholas Chavez x Model!Reader

Summary— You’re thrusted into a PR relationship with your new neighbor, Nicholas Chavez, you’re hesitant at first not knowing how it will benefit you but you warm up to it and find out he’s not the cold and detached person the media says he is.

Warnings— Fake relationship, Fluff, Sexual Tension, Mentions of Substance Use, Smoking.

Series Masterlist

The following morning, you were up earlier than usual. The events of the past day still loomed over you, from the damaging headlines to your ex-best friend slandering your name. Thankfully, it was mostly small blogs and gossip sites spreading her story, and you were confident you’d rise above it all. The photos of you shopping downtown were taking off on social media, and for once, the narrative seemed to favor you. You just hoped Angela’s so-called plan would center on building you back up.

Determined to present your best self, you called in your stylists to give you the ultimate morning glow-up. You chose a sleek off duty model look, an oversized Chanel tweed jacket paired with high-waisted tailored shorts and classic black ballet flats. The cream and beige color palette contrasted beautifully against your dark skin, which practically shimmered under the lighting. You felt put together, and it was a good feeling—one you hadn’t experienced in weeks.

At exactly 10 a.m., Angela called to let you know she was at the gate. “By the way,” she said casually, “I’m bringing a guest.”

“A guest?” you asked, glancing at yourself in the mirror one last time. “Who?”

“You’ll see,” she replied, then hung up.

You stood in the foyer, waiting for the sound of the bell. When it came, you smoothed down your jacket and opened the door, only to freeze in surprise. Standing next to Angela was your neighbor, Nicholas Chavez, looking annoyingly polished in a leather jacket, dark jeans, and a crisp white tee that screamed effortless charm.

Angela was all business. “Morning,” she said, breezing past you into the house. Nicholas followed, offering you a small smile.

“Uh, morning,” you said, closing the door. “Why’s my neighbor your guest? Wasn’t the cake enough?”

Angela turned to you with an exasperated look. “This isn’t about the damn cake. And Nicholas, thank you for humoring us this morning,” she added, motioning for him to sit.

Nicholas smirked as he lowered himself onto your couch. “The cake was really good, by the way. Thanks again.”

You folded your arms, leaning against the armrest of the sofa. “Okay, so why is my neighbor in my house? What’s the plan here?”

Angela gave you a pointed look, as if the answer should’ve been obvious. “The plan,” she began dramatically, “is a relationship.”

You blinked, then burst into laughter, the sound echoing off your high ceilings. Angela didn’t laugh. She just stood there, unimpressed, until you finally composed yourself.

“You know I don’t do relationships,” you said, raising a brow. “What are you talking about?”

“A PR relationship,” she clarified. “Very public. Very strategic.”

You tilted your head, glancing between her and Nicholas, who was casually leaning back on your couch, arms stretched out along the cushions. “I don’t get it. Why would either of us need that?”

Angela crossed her arms. “Because you are in damage control, and Nicholas here is the perfect solution.” She gestured to him. “He’s new, popular, fresh, clean-cut. Hollywood’s golden boy in the making. A rising star who just scored a breakout role and needs the right kind of visibility to stay in the conversation. You, on the other hand, are…” She trailed off and gestured vaguely at you.

You scowled. “A supermodel? A party girl?”

“A mess,” she corrected. “A rich, famous, gorgeous mess, sure, but still a mess. The public loves a redemption arc, and this will give them one. The troubled supermodel tamed by the sweet, boy-next-door actor. It’s a PR dream.”

Nicholas finally spoke, his voice calm and low. “I’m not exactly boy-next-door, Angela.”

“Close enough,” she shot back, waving him off.

You shook your head. “This sounds ridiculous. And I don’t see how being tied to me helps him. I mean, I’m in the middle of a PR crisis.”

Angela didn’t flinch. “It helps him because you’re you. You’re a household name, a media darling, even with all the drama. Being seen with you puts Nicholas on magazine covers, gets him into rooms that will skyrocket his career. And for you, it softens your image. It shows stability, maturity, and lets people focus on something positive for once.”

Nicholas turned to you, his expression unreadable. “And for the record, I’m not opposed. If it helps both of us.”

You frowned, unsure how to respond. “And what? We just pretend to be in love?”

Angela nodded, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “Exactly. Dates, appearances together, a few staged paparazzi moments. Maybe even some cryptic Instagram posts.”

“That sounds exhausting,” you muttered.

Angela stepped closer. “It’s not forever. Just a few months. Long enough to shift the narrative. You’re already halfway there with those shopping photos from yesterday. Let’s seal the deal.”

You looked at Nicholas, who shrugged, a small smirk playing on his lips. “Could be fun,” he said lightly.

“You think this is fun?” you asked.

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “I think it’s an opportunity. For both of us. And honestly,” He paused, his eyes locking with yours. “You don’t strike me as the type to back down from a challenge.”

You rolled your eyes but felt your resolve wavering. The way Angela had laid it out, it almost made sense. And Nicholas, well, he was easy on the eyes. You could admit he was fine. If nothing else, he might distract you from the chaos for a while.

You sighed, finally throwing your hands up. “Fine. I’ll think about it.”

Angela grinned. “Good. That’s all I need for now.”

Nicholas stood, adjusting his jacket. “Let me know what you decide. I’ll be next door.”

As you walked them to the door, you couldn’t help but feel like you were being dragged into something much bigger than you anticipated.

You screamed out in frustration, the weight of Angela’s plan sinking in. You didn’t have a choice. If you didn’t make a big move to salvage your image, your agency would drop you. Bookings would dry up, shows would pass you over, and the fashion world would leave you behind. You’d be finished. And you couldn’t let that happen. You’d worked too hard to get here.

The thought of smoking on the balcony crossed your mind, but you shook it off. Paparazzi were probably camped out in the bushes beyond your gates, waiting for any misstep to capture and sell. You’d come too far to give them an easy headline. Instead, you lit up inside, taking a long drag from your joint as the familiar calm washed over you. You were making changes, after all. No hard drugs anymore, just weed. Baby steps.

The high brought clarity. A PR relationship wasn’t just an idea—it was a necessity. As much as it stung to think about Nicholas Chavez leeching off your fame, you knew it would be mutually beneficial. But still, the thought of tying yourself, even temporarily, to someone like him made your stomach twist. Sure, he was very attractive but he wasn’t in your league. You were scared of how much you’d have to give to make this work.

But it was fake. That’s what you told yourself. It was all for PR. Nothing more. Nothing less. He wouldn’t ruin your image, and you wouldn’t ruin his. It was transactional. Professional. It would be fine. Right?

You stubbed out the joint and made your way to Nicholas’ house next door. You barely had to ring the doorbell before he opened it, an actual smile lighting up his face. It threw you off. You’d never seen him smile in person or even in interviews. His reputation for playing cold, detached roles, especially after his breakout as Lyle Menendez—preceded him. Maybe Angela was right. He needed this just as much as you did.

He led you into his sleek, modern living room. The place was clean, organized, and clearly decorated by someone with taste. He motioned for you to sit, and you took a spot on the plush sofa.

“I hope you’ll be seeing more of this place,” he started, his voice smooth but slightly nervous. “And have you thought about our manager’s plan?”

You raised an eyebrow. “Wait, Angela’s your manager too?”

He nodded, and you rolled your eyes. Of course, she had orchestrated this from every angle.

You leaned back, crossing your legs. “Yeah, I’ve thought about it. I don’t have a choice, do I? It’s the best move for you.”

He looked a little taken aback, his ego clearly bruised. “For both of us, I think you’d benefit too,” he replied, his tone defensive.

You smirked, brushing him off. “Sure. But we both know you’re the one getting the most out of this. Let’s not kid ourselves.”

He let it go, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “Fine. So, are we starting this now? What’s the first move?”

His eyes flickered to your lips briefly, and you caught it. Clearing his throat, he added, “I was thinking we could stage something big to kick things off. Flowers, candles, the whole deal. I’ll set up a space, maybe on your balcony or one of your other properties, and ask you to be my girlfriend. We’ll take pictures and post them to soft-launch the relationship a few days from now but first we’ll get paparazzi to snap a few candids of us but making sure to not get my face. Just enough to get people speculating.”

Your brow arched. “You’ve really thought this through, haven’t you?”

He grinned, a hint of smugness in his expression. “Guess I’m cut out for this Hollywood life after all.”

“Or you just really want to be seen with me,” you shot back, and he laughed.

“Can you blame me? You’ve been my celebrity crush for years,” he admitted, his tone playful but honest.

You laughed, shaking your head. “Expected.”

By the time you left his house, the plan was in motion. You both snuck off to one of your properties near the beach, Nicholas’ team working quickly to decorate the space with candles, roses, and twinkling lights. You’d gone home to change into a white Chanel dress that flattered you perfectly and made your skin glow under the evening light.

Once the setup was complete, you snapped a picture, careful to keep Nicholas out of frame. The photo went into your drafts, ready to post in a few days. Before leaving, you called your paparazzi contacts, making sure they’d capture strategic shots of you on the decorated balcony with your “mystery man” in the background, his face obscured.

The photos hit the internet within hours. By the time you were back home, your phone was blowing up with texts and notifications. Every media outlet, TMZ, Page Six, even Vogue—was talking about the “romantic mystery” surrounding your evening.

You and Nicholas sat close together on your bed, scrolling through the headlines. Angela called, her voice practically buzzing through the phone.

“Congratulations, to the new couple! This was perfect. Everyone’s talking about it. I knew you could pull it off.”

“Not like I had a choice,” you muttered, rolling your eyes.

Angela laughed. “Well, keep it up. Keep the image clean. And, Nicholas, I trust you to handle this.”

“What about me?” you snapped. “Don’t you trust me?”

“Not as much as I trust him,” Angela teased before hanging up.

You scoffed, tossing your phone onto the bed. “Great. Well, since we’re here, we might as well stay the night. But stay away from the windows. Last thing we need is more candid shots.”

Nicholas nodded in agreement. “Makes sense. Where should I sleep?”

“In here,” you replied nonchalantly. “We’re going to have to share hotel rooms eventually for appearances. Might as well practice now.”

He blinked, a little surprised, but didn’t argue.

You decided to shower first, stripping out of your dress and walking into the bathroom, fully aware of his eyes on you. You smirked to yourself, knowing he was watching your naked figure from behind. When you returned, towel-clad and refreshed, he took his turn. You couldn’t help but notice his muscular back and firm figure as he disappeared into the bathroom.

By the time he returned, you were both in bed, lying on opposite sides in a comfortable silence, the glow of the TV casting soft light across the room.

Nicholas broke the quiet, turning his head to you. “Alright, girlfriend. Since we skipped the talking and dating stage, tell me about yourself.”

You chuckled, rolling onto your side to face him. “What do you want to know?”

“Everything, you can start off with your modeling career if you’d like,” he said simply. His expression was soft, genuine. For the first time, he didn’t look like the detached actor or the PR project Angela had roped you into.

And, against your better judgment, you started talking, hesitantly at first. “I started because—I wanted to feel like I was someone, like I mattered, I want to be appreciated for what I had to offer. But it wasn’t easy,” you said, your voice steady but tinged with vulnerability. “It took years of hard work, long nights, endless rejection, and now it feels like it’s all slipping through my fingers.” You swallowed hard, your chest tightening. “The scandals, the rumors, it’s like everything I built is crumbling, and the worst part is they don’t even know the real me. I’m not that person they paint me as—some careless, drug-addicted mess.”

Nicholas’ expression didn’t waver. He didn’t interrupt or glance away. Instead, he shifted slightly closer, his elbow resting on the mattress as he propped his head on his hand. “And now,” you continued, your voice breaking slightly, “I just feel like a failure. Like I’ve disappointed everyone who ever believed in me.”

He reached out, his fingers brushing lightly against your cheek as he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. The gesture was so gentle, so uncharacteristic, that it caught you off guard. You froze, your breath hitching as you stared at him, unsure of how to respond. “It’s going to be okay,” he said softly, his deep voice laced with sincerity. “You’re not what they say you are. I see you for who you really are—a hard worker, talented, smart, beautiful, and so much more. We’ll figure this out. We’ll fix your reputation together.”

Your throat tightened at his words. You didn’t know how to react—this wasn’t the detached, unfeeling Nicholas the world talked about. He was warm, reassuring, and entirely present. “Thank you,” you said quietly, your voice barely above a whisper. “You’re not like what people say you are either.” You managed a small smile. “Detached with dead eyes? Doesn’t seem to fit right now.”

He chuckled, a low, genuine sound that made your chest feel lighter. “Guess they don’t know me that well either, huh?”

You laughed softly, the tension between you easing. He hesitated for a moment before clearing his throat. “So, uh, do you maybe want to cuddle?” he asked nervously, his usual confidence replaced with uncertainty.

You raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk tugging at your lips. “Why do you wanna do that, Chavez? Ain’t no media or paparazzi in here to see what’s going on.”

He paused, his mouth twitching into an embarrassed smile. “Just practicing,” he said with a shrug.

You couldn’t help but laugh again, rolling your eyes as you shifted closer to him, resting your head against his chest. His strong arm wrapped loosely around your shoulders, and you let yourself relax, his steady heartbeat soothing you. “You’re something else,” you murmured before sleep claimed you both.

Hours later, you woke to the soft rise and fall of his chest against yours. The room was still dark, the quiet hum of waves beyond the windows faint in the background. His arms were wrapped firmly around you, his body pressing against yours in a way that felt impossibly warm and secure. You blinked groggily, realizing your legs were tangled with his, your face nestled against his chest. And then, you felt it—a firm pressure against your hip.

Your cheeks heated as you carefully shifted, trying to move without waking him. You turned away slightly, hoping to create some distance, but before you could, his arm tightened around your waist, pulling you flush against him once more. He shifted in his sleep, his breath brushing against the back of your neck as he spooned you. You froze, hyper-aware of every inch of contact, his solid frame molding against you and the unmistakable hardness pressing against you.

“It’s just—early morning wood,” you muttered quietly to yourself, trying to convince your racing thoughts to settle. “That’s all it is.” You closed your eyes, willing yourself to ignore the heat creeping up your neck. After a few moments of stillness, his steady breathing calmed you again, and you drifted off, lulled by the warmth and weight of him enveloping you.

Maybe this PR relationship thing wouldn’t be so bad, he was tolerable—just a bit, for now.

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿

Taglist: @blackynsupremacy @rafeysslut

[nintendroid]

Help me raise awareness - Did you ever want a mainline Pokemon game for the Nintendo 64? Well, it kind of happened with Onegai Monsters; A so-obscure-it's-almost-non-existent Japanese exclusive.

Yes this is real, and It's a crime almost no one knows about it. Onegai Monsters is a Pokemon clone released exclusively in Japan in 1999. There's little to nothing online about it aside from a few Youtube videos and a couple of translation guides. Needless to say, it didn't make a big splash upon release.

It has breeding, turn-based battles, a bunch of monsters to collect, a journey that involves letting a 10-year-old out into the world on their own. WHY ISN'T THIS MORE WELL KNOWN? I can kind of see why it's not exactly popular. It's not the prettiest game but when do we care about graphics around here anyway? As long as the game is decent, we can handle walking animations with a whopping 3 frames right?

2023 is the year we put Onegai Monsters on the map. The good folks behind it tried to give the people what they wanted when Game Freak refused and their efforts amounted to near nothing. We have to get this a proper translation and into the hands of geeks like me and you. How do we do that? Spread awareness until someone smart enough does so!

Until then, we have to rough it and play it with what little guides are available on the internet. Incoming link dump:

How to play guide on GameFAQs courtesy of "whowasphone404"

Video from Corruption Quest - "The Forgotten N64 Game"

Translation Guide from Corruption Quest

Discord with a wealth of information

[realjw]

Cruising gone wrong

Dan's your typical horny gay bear on a Friday night. He wears his metal harness while in the gay sauna to look for potential fuck buddies. He is unfortunately a quite unlucky tonight, and instead decided to wander to a nearby forest, a nearby popular gay cruising spot.

"Strange" Dan said, "it's so quiet here today".

Dan presses on deep into the woods, until he couldn't see the the town behind him. After walking for a bit more, he finally find a clearing, with a big topless burly man staring at the moon above, facing away from him.

Dan could already tell from behind that this man is his type, and what straight man would be here at this time, wearing no shirt? He wastes no time approaching the man, caressing him from the back. The man did not respond to the initial touch, but a few seconds later turned around in a very awkward and unsettling manner

Dan sees the muscle bear's front side and instantly pitches a tent. This is exactly Dan's type and he wants him NOW. The muscle bear says nothing and stands still. He looks at Dan and his erect member, and smiles creepily. Unfortunately, Dan isn't picking up any red flags because of how horny he is and instead smiles back to the 'being'. The spectral being leans in to kiss Dan in the mouth. Dan carresses the figure's hairy body and presses it hard onto his own out of lust. This made a part of the spectral being enter Dan's body for a second, but Dan's way too horny to notice. They made out for quite a while before Dad demands the being to top him.

The being forecfully tossed Dan to a bed of leaves on the ground. Dan was surprised but thought that this was part of the 'rough' play that he likes. The being approaches Dan while Dan spreads his legs, anticipating the best part of this encounter. The spectral enters Dan and begins to fuck Dan missionary.

"Get INSIDE OF ME!!" Dan shouts in euphoria

The spectral being eyes widened at the sound of Dan's request. The spectral being grabs both of Dan wrist and held them to the ground, just above Dan's head.

"As you wish" The spectral being speaks for the first time, with its low and echoey voice.

Hearing the voice, Dan realises that something is off. But before he could do anything, The spectral being leans in and makes out with Dan another time. Dan notices that this time it's a bit different, the being's tongue seem to reach even deeper as time goes and he could feel the being's face pushing into his face really forcefully. Dan could not move or say anything as he is still being penetrated and pinned down by the being. Dan felt the being's cock pulsate inside of him and release waves of what he could only guess to be cum. All of a sudden, the being's face instead starts to compress and enter Dan's mouth. Dan panics but could not even yell. He could only watch as the massive being slowly works its way into him. The being's head and neck enters Dan's throat, followed soon enough by his hairy, muscular chest. Dan's still resisting and the being's chest was stuck just outside of his mouth. Dan hears the being's voice inside his head

"Accept me, and I'll make you the sexiest gay bear in town"

Surprised, Dan perks up

"Everyone is going to want you, and no one is going to look down on you anymore"

"Really?" says Dan, in his head.

"Yes, now let me in"

Dan is allured by the thought of being wanted by every gay bear alive. Besides, whats the alternative? Being choked to death?

The being's chest slowly moves into Dan again as Dan stopped resisting. Dan could feel the being's hairy chest against his mouth. The being's belly is huge, but it slowly slithers into Dan, followed by its hairy cock and legs.

As the last of the being enters Dan, he let out moans as he could feel the being inside slowly enters Dan's limbs. Dan roars and extends out his arms and legs as he could feel the being's starting to merge with him. First it's Dan's legs and arms which expands twice its size. Then Dan's chest ballooned and stretched out. Dan throws his head back as his jawline also changes in shape. Body hair could be seen spurting and growing out of every inch of Dan's body. Finally, Dan's already erect cock grows in length and girth. Dan spurted endless ropes of cum and moaned out loud. He could hear his voice deepens as he continues moaning. As the moans and streams of cum ended, Dan's head slumps down and he closed his eyes. Slowly, he lifts his head back up and opens his eyes. Dan stares blankly forward in silence, for what it seems to be hours.

"

[otomes-and-tears]

i am also glad that you’re a shiloh analysis scholar <333 too many people hate the funniest (and saddest) parts of him!! what do you think of shiloh’s relationship with bae, pran and/or lizzie? i’d like to think he’s being genuine on some level when it comes to liking/disliking them but you never know with that snake :((((

Speculating on Shiloh's true opinions on people is basically as hard as speculating on anything else about him. But I'm here to be delusional so let me put my tinfoil hat on! I'll probably make a full post on him and Elizabeth later because I have a lot of thoughts on that and want some screenshots to accompany them. I'll start with the easiest one: I think he genuinely dislikes Pran, but kind of plays it up. Pran isn't exactly the easiest person to get along with. He isn't popular, so I don't think Shiloh will get any flack for talking shit about him from anyone he thinks matters. Hence, it's the reason why he allows himself to be a hater for once and actually say what he thinks, but he also has an incentive to play up his dislike of him. In Our Life, you can see kid Shiloh kind of identifying Cove as the kid on the bottom of the food chain and making efforts to keep him there, both by altering his behaviour to ensure that he's solidly in Lizzie's good graces (who he sees as a leader) and not making much of an effort do endear Cove to him. I feel like his behaviour towards Pran is much like his childish attempts to social climb-- by playing up his dislike towards Pran, someone he knows doesn't have an interest in the school's social hierarchy and is uninterested in fighting back, he can push him down to appear as someone with a higher standing. I also think that on Pran's route, Shiloh is trying to be a homewrecker AUSHAUS He flirts with JB a lot and is the one most opposed to her and Pran's relationship, even going as far as to continue doing her favours to try and win her over-- and basically, the main reason Shiloh is even interested in JB in the first place is that she's the only girl in the Jerksquad and the person all of them are interested in, at least to some degree. He's so focused on the way he's perceived he'll go to these lengths to get one over people he dislikes. But Shiloh's distaste is also quite natural, I think. The game establishes numerous times that Pran and Shiloh are polar opposites in every conceivable way: Shiloh is bubbly, extroverted and talkative while Pran is quiet, uninvolved and introverted. Pran's backstory is rooted in severe neglect and being so conflict-averse that he'd do anything to try to please both his grandparents and his parents, who were often on opposite sides, only to end up pleasing no one. Later in life, he adopts his contrarian attitude because he simply sees no point in making an effort if it's going to be futile anyway. Shiloh, however, is the complete opposite of that: He lies and manipulates others for his own benefit, he thrives on the attention from others. He feigns concern about them when he actually doesn't care at all. Pran is frustrating to him because he's so fundamentally disinterested in whatever Shiloh can offer him that he's unmanipulatable. It's one, tiny way that Shiloh isn't in control.

Regarding Bae, I don't know if Shiloh likes having him around, but he can certainly benefit from him. And Bae is a predictable enough person that he finds a lot of comfort in their dynamic! Bae is rich, he doesn't have any friends in school-- and isn't interested in connecting with anyone, so isn't someone likely to spread any rumours about Shiloh. Bae wants to be perceived as someone mature and oh so above all the other high schoolers he's surrounded by, so it's a very simple desire to cater to, and he's a lazy wimp that's fairly easy to locate after-hours. Get on his good graces and you might get some help with academics, and he can spin becoming roommates with Bae as an act of kindness on his part, so he can appear to be a magnanimous, patient guy.

I like to think that he grows to, at the very least, genuinely look forward to spending time with him after they spend enough time together. Their Karaoke scenes are so cute I want to believe that at least part of him isn't pretending to have fun in them...

[r1zingclouds]

"How to get cats to hate you" - Murakumo Ten SR Card Story TL

This translation was originally posted on my X.

Part 1

Ten: Yosh, that’s “work” done for today.

Ten: (Once again, I’m beat…)

Stray cat: Myaow~!

Ten: Ha… I knew it was you. Can’t get enough of me, can you.

Stray cat: *Nuzzle, nuzzle*

Ten: Hey, stop that. I guess there’s no point telling you that when you don’t understand me, though.

Ten: Anhow, today…

Ten: There. Pipipipipi~ 

Stray cat: ! Meopipipipii.

Ten: You’re really into this laser pointer. No wonder it was the most popular thing on the net. 

Ten: Okay, gotta bail.

Ten: (Ever since I stumbled upon it on my way home, that stray cat got kiiinda attached to me. What should I do here…)

Muneuji: Murakumo-san, welcome home.

Ten: I’m back~ You just got here too, Muneuji?

Muneuji: Indeed. The student council meeting lasted longer than expected.

Ten: I see, I see. You students have it tough, too. Then, I’ll be going… 

Muneuji: Hold on.

Ten:...What?

Muneuji: Murakumo-san, your clothes are in a sorry state.

Ten: Eh?

Muneuji: You are covered in fur. I happen to have a lint roller for uniforms on me, feel free to use it. 

Ten: Ah… Thanks. I had a close encounter with a cat earlier.

Ten: (I was going to get these clothes cleaned anyway, so I really don’t need this…)

Muneuji: I see. To play with it until so late… Murakumo-san, you’re quite a cat lover.

Ten: Not really…

Muneuji: I’ve heard that life with a cat is a constant battle against shedding. Murakumo-san, do you not keep such tools on hand?

Ten: Hm…Guess not.

Muneuji: Then, I will lend you this lint roller for the time being. Otherwise, you’d be in a spot if you got fur all over yourself again.

Ten: Well…

Muneuji: You can give it back whenever it's convenient. Now, excuse me.

Ten: … What now, he might spread a rumor that I like animals. 

Ten: Liguang-san… probably won’t ask me to look after his rabbit, but it’d be a pain if the President saddled me with the role of Shuumai’s walker.

Ten: Before that happens, that cat… Has to be dealt with.

Part 2

Ten: Now, time to look up ways to get a cat to hate you… what a bore.

Renga: Ten, are you doing a university assignment? That’s tough, working so late.

Ten: Ah, Renga-san.

Ten: (...Right).

Ten: Exactly. I just can’t move it forward. If only I had someone to help me…

Renga: …! If you’re fine with me, I’ll lend you a hand.

Ten: Yay, thanks. You’re so kind, Renga-san.

Renga: Well… a, after all… we’re, well.

Ten: It’s how they say, a friend in need is a friend indeed~.

Renga: ! *cough* That’s right, we’re friends, after all!

Ten: And so, I’ve tried various ways to get on a cat’s wrong side that Renga-san researched for me yesterday, but…

Stray cat: ♪

Ten: Be it nail clipping, bathing or stroking all over, everything makes it happy…

Ten: (Aren’t I just doting on it at this point…?)

Ten: What else do we have here…”Cats don’t like suddenly being picked up”. …Really?

Ten: Well, let’s try it. …Up you go.

Stray cat: Meow! Myaa♪

Ten: Hey, don’t take off my mask. Your whiskers tickle…

Muneuji: Look how close you are.

Ten: !

Muneuji: Forgive me. I had no intention of spying on you. I was simply passing by on my way from school.

Muneuji: But I’m sure that this cat has felt your love, Murakumo-san.

Ten: Ah, Muneuji. You seem to be misunderstanding something, so I’d just like to explain…

Muneuji: Misunderstanding… Explanation…

Muneuji: Are you saying your love for cats is much deeper than I thought?

Ten: How did we get here? 

Muneuji: My sincere apologies. I’d love to hear more on our way to the dorm.

Stray cat: Meow!

Ten: … Is this what it means to be in deep shit?

[nomstellations]

Voretober D16 & 17- Sweet Drink

As you approached the bakery, the scent of chocolate was the first thing to hit your senses. Spellbound Delights...you had heard plenty of things about this bakery. The pastries and desserts here were to die for, certain treats were imbued with magic that could help you out during the day, and the owner was actually made of the very desserts she baked. Related to that, you've heard from some...hungrier sorts, that she's a delicious challenge no one's succeeded in bagging yet.

You weren't here for anything like that, though.

Entering the bakery, you found it decorated for Halloween in purples and oranges. The chocolatey smell was almost overpowering in here, with its source being the witchy-looking woman behind the counter. Her large hat looked as though it was sprinkled with powdered sugar, and a large strawberry slice sat atop of it as some sort of accessory. Her dress was a deep brown and accented with the same dusting of white, and it all smelled very sugary. You noted her long black hair wasn't hair at all, but long strands of melty chocolate...you guessed what you heard was true. She was watching you look around with an amused smile, resting her head in her hands.

"Hey, sugarplum~ Welcome to Spellbound Delights! Anything I can get you?" Chiffon's smile was about as sweet as she is.

Pulled back to attention, you nod and look over the display case and menu. The pastries looked good, but you didn't know she did drinks now too! These milkshakes looked and sounded good, though you didn't understand what these ingredients were....you didn't have food allergies, so you'd be fine! Ideally... Your attention seemed to linger on a shake that looked like a pastel version of the night sky. Pointing it out to her, her smile seems to fall a bit.

"Oh, you'd like that one...? It's a great milkshake, but it's only popular with...certain customers, if you know what I mean. I can make it for you without the enhancements, if you're sure..."

The look in her eyes tells you all you need to know about it. You tell her you want the drink, and the enhancements were exactly what you had in mind. She tilted her head, thinking it over for a moment, before her face lights up. "Oh, I see! You're...ehehe, I don't get too many like you~ Here, it'll be on the house!"

Chiffon disappeared to the back all too happily, and was quick to reappear with a glittering milkshake and a big smile. "It's a bit small, sorry about that! But you know, nobody ever gets to finish these..." She sets down the cup in front of you, and you take a sip to taste it. It somehow tastes like your favorite dessert despite the ingredients...is that a part of the magic? Without realizing it you've sucked down about half of the drink, earning a chuckle from the witch. Maybe that's enough of that...you set the shake down, wondering when it'd take effect. A coolness was spreading through your body, but you figured that was just because it was cold.

However, in the blink of an eye, your world is suddenly so much bigger. It doesn't take long for some black high-heeled boots to step into your vision, and a gloved hand to gently lift you up. "I didn't think you'd drink it so quickly, goodness that worked fast! But you're good enough to eat now, ehehe...if you've got any friends like you, tell them to swing by sometime, got it? I'd love for more willing treats to stop in~!"

Before you can react, she pops you into her mouth! There's a pleased hum that echoes around you, she must like how you taste...or made it so you'd taste even better. You went limp against her tongue, letting her swirl you around in her mouth, coating you in sticky dark saliva. Her mouth was warm and felt almost spongy like a cake, but being made of food didn't make it hard for her to swallow you in one gulp.

The trip down Chiffon's throat felt like forever, but it was a comfortable trip into her stomach. You plopped down into a thick pool of some kind of thick, almost fudgy frosting. Her stomach was hot, making the pool sludgy, and you felt more like you were in a mud bath than in a stomach. Some contented sounds from above told you that you were a fine snack for the witch, coupled with the happy sounding burbles from her stomach. You were happy, and you didn't even mind the chocolate stains your clothes were inevitably going to get. Maybe you'll visit again with friends, at her request...

[mareenavee]

For the Asks to Spread Love, pick and answer 3 that you haven't been asked already! 🧡

Hello again, bri!! Thanks for sending more of these for me! I've really enjoyed catching up on them and thinking through these today!

Fandom Positivity asks from this game here.

10. A popular character you actually really like and why.

I do like me some rare characters most of all lol. My perspective is a bit biased because I love the ones I love and I don't mind if they aren't "popular" per se. (:

LOL -- The obvious answer is Teldryn, right? But I'm gonna talk about

💫Neloth 💫

instead.

I think he's popular to dunk on because he's been a very big pain in the ass in the games for centuries to everyone who will listen to him. I mean, since the events of Morrowind at minimum. (:

Why do I like him? Because of how he's been written by myself and a few friends -- namely @thana-topsy, @paraparadigm (TOOTHPICK!), and @thequeenofthewinter.

I love to see how other people take this character and run with what we're given in text ESPECIALLY considering how ridiculous he is to deal with and his general attitude toward other living things.

For myself, where I write him as a long term friend of Nerevarine!Teldryn Sero, I love to use his character as an opportunity to talk about the struggle of redemption. How does one redeem themselves from a lifetime of difficult choices made to fit into a specific perception? Does this perception eventually end up becoming a core facet of who you are as a person? If that is the case, can you change? Are the consequences of your choices enough to make you irredeemable? Further, can you forgive yourself if change does not come easily or if you return to old behaviors much too easily?

He's a complicated one, I think, especially by the events of Skyrim. He's not exactly estranged from the rest of House Telvanni, but the connection is tenuous and fraught as the House is still, apparently, recovering from the Red Year. In Morrowind it was very much the opposite. There's gotta be a kind of grief to this shift under the uncaring, hyperfocused exterior.

He's annoying, yes, but very interesting to me, and so he's in my fic. And he's actually a huge part of the latter half of the book.

11. Recommend a fic with an unusual/original headcanon or characterisation that you loved.

OH I'm SHOUTING OUT @changelingsandothernonsense's Danger!JOSH (aka Nerevarine Teldryn Sero)'s Nerevar-as-a-parasite situation in Serious Mistakes.

This angry spirit, more or less, lives in the ring and speaks into Teldryn's BRAIN and sometimes drives the entire car, so to speak and I've never ever read anything like it, holy shit. I'm a beta reader for this particular project and I literally cannot yell about it enough.

It's a novelization of the Teldryn Serious mod which was already intriguing, but AH. MY GOODNESS the Nerevar situation.

Let me show you. From chapter 4:

Aren’t you meant to be looking for something? “Oh, you’re still here?” Teldryn rasped, as if saying it out aloud mattered here. You should be thanking me. Teldryn grunted in annoyance, he had a point, he hated it when he was right. His mouth was dry. He wanted to stay where he was. Sleep. You can’t stay here! Get up! Teldryn groaned. Right again – the tide was coming in, if he didn’t find what he was looking for now, then it would be gone by morning. He needed his keys. Was there an Argonian on the beach? He couldn’t remember. His head hurt. He pinched the bridge of his nose, it did little to relieve the pressure. He always overdid it on the magicka, and now he was nauseous.

It's fucking cool, isn't it? (:

19. Give kudos to someone who leaves great comments.

OH GLADLY. Here's where I shout out @polypolymorph!!!

Okay so I could pick out a bunch of comments -- or novel-length responses. Each comment turns into an opportunity for a conversation and I'm always beside myself to hear back from her.

But right now, I'm still grinning ear to ear over, you guessed it. Eyestalks. Eye. Stalks.

(on this project here.)

[glapplebloom]

Don’t blink... (See Mr. Illustrated Videos here)

Secure. Contain. Protect. That’s what SCP stands for. Despite this, fans want to unleash them in Vs Debates to see how they could handle certain fictional opponents. Look up SCP Vs on youtube and you’ll see them fighting each other, creepypastas and other fictional characters. And one of the most popular ones features two creatures that honestly you can’t even realistically see in a fight.

SCP-173, also known as the Sculpture, is an animate and extremely hostile statue that will snap your neck if you don’t keep your eyes on them. Even a blink can be the difference between life and death. The Weeping Angels are pretty much the same thing. And according to google, they appeared first by days. So obviously, who would win in a fight?

Let’s talk about the difficulties first. SCP has a fluid canon. How you interpret any of these creatures depends entirely on person to person. So 682 (the Hard to Destroy Reptile) for example, could be easily defeated if you throw enough firepower at him or can no sell the Ultimate Nullifier going all out. The same thing is with SCP-173.

Which comes to how the debate goes. Both SCP-173 and a Weeping Angel can not move when someone is looking at them. So if these two different creatures look at each other, they would be locked into position forever since neither one can move or even blink to give the other the opportunity to do so. But here is where the debate comes in.

Someone believes SCP-173 would be immune to the Weeping Angel’s stare because it can function normally when other SCP-173s are around. That’s why they never went with the Mirror option to contain it: it can move when its own face is looked at. And we know it can see because it still activates 096’s (the Shyguy) Anomalous Effects. So this is where interpretations come into effect.

They’re basing 173’s immunity among its fellow creatures, so they logically mean that this would be for all Living Statues. But that assumption would mean that 173 doesn’t have immunities to its own vision or the vision of other 173s. And despite being stoned, they can see perfectly fine, thus their own effects take place since looking at each other freezes them as well. So what else can 173 bring to the table?

Apparently it is frikkin hard to destroy. And not only that, overtime it can make more of itself. So what can a Weeping Angel do against something that could be just as fast but is virtually indestructible. Thing is, it's not impossible. Using just the SCP Website, 106 (the Old Man) can destroy it over time. And time is exactly what the Weeping Angels possess.

Their usual method of feeding is to send their victims back in time and consume the potential energy of the life they would have lived. And they can do this anytime, even as a stone statue. So even if 173 had the drop on it, the instant he touched a Weeping Angel they’re sent back in time to whenever the Angel wanted. So while 173 will still be alive, it's already gone. 

Some SCP supporters think this would actually be bad since they can just wait and create an army by the time they return to that timeline. There’s two reasons the Weeping Angel has the advantage here. First, while it varies at times, touching the same Weeping Angel twice would cause a human to crumble to dust. And the Old Man proved the Statue can indeed wear down overtime, thus making this a possible outcome.

Now what about the army? The Weeping Angels can do something similar, but much faster. Weeping Angels can apparently make any normal statue into a Weeping Angel. See the Statue of Liberty becoming one. And it is not just limited to statues. Any image, video, photo or even drawing, of a Weeping Angel becomes one. Some even hopped from digital photo to mobile games. So get one to be a meme, spread it around and they could have an army within a day compared to who knows how long 173 could.

And there are cases where it can transform others into Weeping Angels. A group of them turned the 13th Doctor into a Weeping Angel (for a while) and even resides in the memories of a person (also around that time) until it can free itself. Plus with its quantum-locking, it's not like 173 could do anything even if it could resist the Time Traveling. But all this is moot because once they look at each other, they’re basically locked: right?

Not necessarily. The Weeping Angels are also psychic. They can mess with the electronics near to them. So any lights can be shut off. Add to this, they have Night Vision, meaning they could attack in the dark. But does the Statue have Night Vision as well? I’m not sure. While there is a story about it attacking people during a blackout, it could be using its speed to bump into flesh and taking advantage of that. After all, even if they can't see their victims, they know when someone is looking at them.

SCP-5000 is a Mechanical Suit from an alternate timeline. One where he survived an encounter with Blinkers (SCP-173) and when he blinked he realized what they were and they were looking for him. While I couldn’t find this story on the website yet, it was in a youtube video. So while it doesn’t prove 173 can’t see in the dark, there’s nothing to suggest it does and this does show it has no special vision.

So in my opinion, the Weeping Angels would beat the SCP-173 due to their superior defenses and options. But if you feel differently about that, feel free to discuss your own thoughts and viewpoints. That’s why debating is fun after all.

[ericleo108]

06/30/2023 Click here for Spotify, Apple Music, or Youtube. “Freaky Naughty” is my 50th official release. This song is party music. The song was self-recorded but mixed and mastered by Keyano. The beat is by Tantu and the cover art is made by xoxodesigns from fiverr.

This was a track from the 108 album era in 2021. Just like with “god damn” and “we make the party” I talk about global warming because I promised myself I would talk about the subject in my party music to raise awareness. And because my specialty is edutainment I basically have three things I talk about most if I’m not on a special subject matter for the song. Especially for edutainment, I talk about global warming, American inequality, and expanding upon the meaning of 108. Because my song “Atheist Raps” is currently my best-performing song on Spotify, future lyrics will also consistently talk about atheism which also ties back into the 108 stuff.

This is one of the first party songs I did as Eric Leo 108. I don’t know why but for the longest time I didn’t think it was good enough, which is why it isn’t in the 108 album. I left it. I only decided to get it produced when I found I could get it produced for cheap. It’s based off an old demo and is one of those songs that I want in my catalog but I don’t know if it will be popular. 

The next release “With You” is my last tracked released weekly. Due to budget constraints and wanting to promote established material, I will only be releasing twice a month instead of every week for at least a month. I started releasing once a week to build momentum on social media and the like and it hasn’t really worked. 

The reason I’m not more strict on releasing once a week is because it doesn’t matter. You can check the follower numbers in the description of each YouTube long form sunday update. But just to put it in perspective, releasing once a week and a Word of the day rhyme everyday for almost exactly 4 months has gotten me: 8 followers on twitter, 138 followers on TikTok, 45 on instagram, 51 on YouTube, 14 on Spotify, and lost 17 on soundcloud. You tell me if the effort is worth it

You can see me talk about this blog post from last Sunday’s Update here:

Lyrics:

I got that hip and insipid God-given ridiculous flow

Take a listen my written rhythm a system to know

That love ain’t cute, love ain’t sweet

Most play it like a game where losers weep

I’m just like a squirrel, Try’na get a nut. 

So I run up on my love and hug her on the butt 

Come through style’n, shine’n, wil’n

Feel’n so fly, like Gambino Childish

Where’d you get this shit at? You’re uncle he knows

He grows it, he showed me, let’s get cozy and stoned

We’ll hibernate and find our nature among bears 

We’ll eat a bunch of mushrooms, act weird, and just stare

We’ll come back to reality when we find ourselves

Where we won’t find our thoughts are too bizarre to help 

Had an introspective journey of self-love and respect 

Took too much, ate a bunch, and just slept

Hands up if you like to party 

You and me get freaky naughty 

Uh, let’s get it started 

We don’t stop til we exhausted 

Hands up if you like to party 

You and me get freaky naughty 

Uh, let’s get it started 

We don’t stop til we exhausted 

Come on, let’s rally, take another tally 

Go big like the finale, get naked like it Cali 

If you don’t got looks, go with personality

Don’t have personality, be happy with not mattering

Everything in moderation like the ancient Greeks 

What you got for logic, come on think don’t be sheep

Don’t know if the glass half full or not

But The sun half-whole on the equinox 

It’s all good, it’s alright, 

We gon’ spread some love and have fun tonight

Cheers to good health, yourself, and women

Your dreams coming true and stay’n true to your vision

It’s all good, it’s alright, 

We gon’ spread some love and have fun tonight

Cheers to good health, yourself, and women

Your dreams coming true and stay’n true to your vision

Hands up if you like to party 

You and me get freaky naughty 

Uh, let’s get it started 

We don’t stop til we exhausted 

Hands up if you like to party 

You and me get freaky naughty 

Uh, let’s get it started 

We don’t stop til we exhausted 

This is for those who like to drink responsibly 

Think about plot’n things, triangle their isosceles

Throw another up after metabolizing probably  

Possibly a consumer commodity

Cogs in the economy with smog for the ecology

Global warming leaves more carbon to feed 

The problem is a lack of carbon vacuums such as trees

Forget about the facts, get the cash, run the track

It’s all good, it’s alright, 

We gon’ spread some love and have fun tonight

Cheers to good health, yourself, and women

Your dreams coming true and stay’n true to your vision

It’s all good, it’s alright, 

We gon’ spread some love and have fun tonight

Cheers to good health, yourself, and women

Your dreams coming true and stay’n true to your vision

Hands up if you like to party 

You and me get freaky naughty 

Uh, let’s get it started 

We don’t stop til we exhausted 

Hands up if you like to party 

You and me get freaky naughty 

Uh, let’s get it started 

We don’t stop til we exhausted 

Day 365, how you measure a year

In degrees that a circle, sphere 

Proof god loves us is in beer

This one’s for you, here, cheers

Hands up if you like to party 

You and me get freaky naughty 

Uh, let’s get it started 

We don’t stop til we exhausted

[boundlesschaos]

ME HIT ROCK! Come one, come all, to test your might at Fodlan’s annual rock-smashing competition! The catch? This year, the armory has kindly lent participants a wide selection of armored gloves to bash through boulders with. Pick a set, and get to punching! Whoever can break the biggest and sturdiest rock wins! [Grants Gauntlets +1]

Though tests of strength of were not unheard of, news of a curious upcoming event had spread like wildfire across the lands, and even Niamh had pondered what exactly the event would detail. She knew of tests where the owner of a sword would be determined by who could lift it from stone; competitions to see who could lift more than the other; and judged events to learn who could swing a mighty hammer best.

But an event...about smashing rocks...

Firstly, she wonders who has the means to do so. Rock was a difficult surface to damage, let alone smash altogether. The person would have to have incredible arm strength, no?

When she's informed that armored gloves are to be supplied, a second question arises. Which glove is best? Arm strength would still be important, but with the gloves protecting the user's hands, a wider selection of people could partake in the event. Making sure the glove fit snug, and the material it was made of would additionally factor into this...

As she stands nearby one of the vendors, she surveys the sorts of people lining up for the event itself. As expected, many who are here have quite the build - but thanks to the promise of armored gloves, the group is overall varied, and she's even positive some of the people here are fellow students.

As she scans the crowd, she doesn't stop to consider the people directly around her, and there's a couple of instances where she almost bumps into them. Almost here, almost there...no, this time, she actually did bump into someone. It's not enough to knock them off their feet, but it's enough that it breaks Niamh away from her thoughts, blinking a few times as she registers what's happened.

"Oh..." She realizes, turning towards the stranger. "Are you here for the event? It's popular..." Though she doesn't express it outwardly, she does briefly look the other over to check if they're ok.

@absolvingagony

Catch These Hands [March Mission]

[etherealperrie]

Just A Taste

Eddie Munson x Fem!Groupie!Reader: In which reader has heard a lot around town about Corroded Coffin's lead guitarist, Eddie Munson. Reader decides to head to The Hideout and find out what he's like for herself: the kind of music he plays, the way he looks under the stage lights, and most importantly, the way he tastes.

Word Count: 2.3k

Contains: SMUT (18+ minors dni) | Explicit Language | Drinking and Mentions of Smoking | Groupie!Reader | Lead Guitarist!Eddie | Unprotected sex (plz don't do this, be smart & safe)

A/N: For the purposes of this fic, Eddie and reader are 21. Here, Eddie graduates and focuses full time on music, his band becoming popular amongst the small town of Hawkins, Indiana. This is purely a work of fiction and does not intend to reflect or influence real life actions and behaviors. Read at your own discretion.

...

Everything is a blur, your mind working through a haze of smoke, your senses clouded by booze. The Hideout is packed to the brim with locals, music blaring from the shoddy speakers, the crowd still reeling from the show, the room buzzing with electricity. You slip through the crowd, pushing past sweaty bodies vibrating in the pit, spying a door just left of the small stage. Before you step through, someone hands you another shot of a nameless clear liquid and you down it quickly, emerging into a small dark room to throw yourself into the lap of the closest person, grinding yourself hotly against their body. You press a rough kiss to their lips to get your mind off the burning sensation at the back of your throat. They taste of beer, the smell of cigarettes flooding your nostrils, something soft tickling your cheeks. 

“Fuck,” he breathes as you pull away, wiping your faded lipstick against the back of your hand. The sight of long, frizzy, curly dark brown hair and silver-ringed fingers awakens a path of goosebumps down your spine. You’d landed in the lap of exactly who you came to see. 

Eddie Munson. 

You’d heard a lot about the guitarist of this band – Corroded Coffin – and you had to see him for yourself. Under the golden stage lights tonight, watching his fingers slide across the chords of his guitar and noting the way he took his bottom lip between his teeth as he threw his head back, completely immersed in the music, you knew you had to taste him. And, god, he tasted heavenly. 

“How the hell did you get back here?” he asks, his husky voice pulling you back to reality. 

Your smile grows and he eyes you inquisitively, his deep brown eyes glinting something almost animalistic as he takes you in. Raising an eyebrow, you slowly lift up the hem of your top. 

His eyes widen at the lack of fabric covering you, but a grin flickers across his wet, pink lips. It wasn’t anything he hadn’t seen before, he knew his name spread amongst the crowds and he liked the attention – some would say he thrives on it. 

 “Do you want me to leave?” you breathe, reaching out to comb your fingers through his wild hair. His eyes meet yours as you jut out your bottom lip, bringing his attention down to your mouth. He lifts his hand to your chin, running his thumb along your lips, encouraging them apart. You oblige, taking his finger between your lips, rolling your tongue around the tip, sucking harshly. 

A breath catches in his throat and you feel him growing strained beneath you. Awaiting his response, you pull away, tugging your top back down over your chest. 

“What a tease.” He moves his hand from your cheek down to your thighs, pushing your skirt up to expose the soft skin there. He traces his fingers up and down your legs, moving closer to the ache growing between your thighs with each pass. You let out a soft whimper, grinding yourself harder against his apparent erection, aching for contact. Eddie chuckles, placing his hand back under your chin. He tilts your head back just enough to meet his wanting gaze. “Two can play this game, sweetheart.” 

He leans in to plant an open mouthed kiss to your neck, his breath hot, licking and sucking at your throat, savoring in the sound of your quickened breath. 

“Shit,” you moan as he pulls away, leaning back against the couch. His eyes darken as he admires his work, a red spot that was sure to bruise marking your otherwise bare skin. Desperate to see more of him, you grasp at his jacket, sliding it off of his shoulders. He plays along, slipping out of it and his t-shirt, watching as you toss both fabrics onto the floor, your mouth dropping open at the sight of him. His arms and chest are littered with tattoos, shapes you couldn’t quite make out in the dark. A smattering of chest hair leads down to a prevalent happy trail, pointing towards what you wanted most to taste, tempting you. 

Hungry, you run your hands across his abdomen, leaning in to trail sloppy, wet kisses up his chest and neck, sucking harshly at his jawline. He groans, inhaling sharply, and his hands are at the hem of your own shirt now, easing the fabric up. You pause to appease him, helping him pull the shirt over your head. His hands work quickly, moving erratically to feel every inch of your naked skin, his fingers tracing over every freckle and mole.

As you lean back in, your bare skin grazes his, hot and sweaty, the swell of your breast flattening as you press yourself against him hotly. Your excitement grows as he groans, his grip tightening on your thighs, making you eager to please. His lips capture yours and he deepens the kiss quickly, his tongue and spit mixing with yours feverishly as you slide your hands down his abdomen towards the waistband of his jeans, fingers dipping beneath it. 

He mumbles something against your lips and then his hands are around your wrists before you have time to process. Pulling away from the kiss slowly, he holds your wrists together with one hand while trailing his fingers down the front of you, stopping just above where you craved him most. Clicking his tongue, he looks at you. “Ask before you touch, what do you want?” 

Eddie lets go of your wrists as you rise from his lap, watching as you undo the zipper of your skirt. He grows more strained beneath the fabric of his jeans, his hard cock pressing against the denim, his desire obvious as your skirt falls to the floor, you following suit, dropping to your knees before him. 

“I want to taste you,” you whisper, palming him through the denim. He thrust up into your hand, sucking in a breath, his teeth sinking into his bottom lip, just like he does on stage, but this time it’s you bringing about such pleasure. “Please?” you ask, looking up at him through the shadow of your eyelashes. 

He takes a deep breath and shakes his head, leaning forward, his elbows on his knees. 

“Desperation looks good on you,” he breathes. His hand is under your chin again, his lips grazing yours as he whispers, “You’re just so eager to please me.”  

You open your mouth to respond, but he’s already rising from his spot on the couch, pulling you up with him. His hands push you down onto the couch now and he drops to his knees, nudging your legs apart with his shoulders, aching as his face gets closer to your wet heat. 

“But I wanna know, when’s the last time someone pleased you, hmm?” He asks, bowing his head to kiss the inside of your thighs. You suck in a breath, rolling your hips to him as he trails his fingertips along the delicate skin of your inner thighs. You exhale as his lips kiss their way up to your hip bones, his fingers brushing lightly against your panties. Shivering, you watch him lift his head from your hips, the smile on his lips spreading into something sinister as he remarks at the growing wet patch on the lacy fabric. Chuckling to himself, he slips his fingers underneath the fabric, getting a real feel for just how much of a pool had collected between your thighs, earning a gasp from you. He looks up at you, his hair hanging wildly in front of his eyes, his curls tickling your inner thighs. 

“So wet for me already,” his gaze returns to your slick cunt, hunger apparent in his eyes, “fuck, baby.”

He swipes his fingers between your folds in a slow, bold stripe, tracing a feather light touch up and around your clit. Gasping, you grind your hips down onto his fingers harshly, wanting more from him, unfiltered moans escaping your lips. He hums watching you writhe with pleasure, eager to give you more. Eddie bows his head, bringing his mouth to your pussy, his breath hot as he hovers there for a moment, letting his fingers continue to tease. 

“Eddie, please,” you whisper, lifting your hips to his lips. You hadn’t realized just how much you wanted this – wanted him – but with his lips inches from where you most craved them, you felt on fire with a desire for him. 

Eddie doesn’t waste another second, pulling your lips apart gently with his hands to grant his tongue access to the most intimate parts of you. He’s sloppy at first, running his tongue flat against you, lapping up your arousal. He groans at the taste of you, eliciting a moan from you as the vibrations of his voice rock through you. His tongue is warm, soft as he licks harshly at your entrance and up towards your clit. Humming, his movements become more targeted, flicking his tongue around your clit a few times before clamping his mouth around the delicate bud, sucking. 

“Ah, Eddie, fuck,” you moan, your eyes faltering shut as you ride the wave of his lips and tongue sucking and licking, undoing the knot deep in your abdomen. Your body lights up, writhing under his lips, your hands rushing to his head, holding him there as he sucks, your fingers tangling in his mess of curls. 

He releases you, kissing your swollen bud softly before moving away, peppering kisses down your cunt and across your legs. His fingers work to replace his tongue once again, his eyes returning to you as one hand reaches up to your breast, taking an erect nipple between his fingers while the other eases two fingers into your silken pussy. 

You shake your head, having had enough. “Skip the fingers and just fuck me,” you breathe, your voice hoarse. 

Eddie’s head snaps up and he nods, sliding his fingers through your folds once more, your hips jerking upward in response, before he rises from his knees. Reaching out, you undo his belt and zipper, pulling his jeans and boxers down in one swift movement. His desire is apparent in front of you, his impressive length spilling out in front of your face. You fight the urge to take him between your lips as you first desired. Eddie chuckles above you, whispering a string of praise as you hold yourself back, turning your attention back up to his face. 

His lips and chin glisten with your wetness under the dim light of the room as you both shift to lay back on the couch, your head resting against the leather arm, Eddie hovering above you. With his hands on either side of you, you take advantage of the moment, reaching down between your bodies to take his length in your hand. He’s already rock hard, he’d gotten all he needed in form of arousal from watching you, but he stifles a moan as you stroke him, circling your thumb over his head softly, his cock twitching in your hand, his hips rocking into you. 

“Enough teasing,” Eddie growls. He lets his head drop to you, reconnecting his lips with yours. His lips are warm and wet, the sweet flavor of your own arousal mixing with the taste of vodka and the scents of smoke and sex, your senses alight. 

He leans back, pulling away from you to watch as he lines himself up with your entrance. Whining, you lift your hips and rock, his dick slipping between your folds, the slick sound of your wetness filling the room as he slides over your cunt. A second later he’s sliding into you, easing himself in an inch at a time, cursing under his breath as you take him in, tight and warm. 

Everything shifts once he’s in you, any ounce of patience either one of you had managed to hold onto suddenly gone, both of you desperately craving a release. His thrusts start slowly, but quicken in seconds, his hips snapping against you erratically as his fingers work your clit in small hard circles, that familiar tightening knotting in your stomach once again. You roll your hips against him roughly, finding his rhythm, matching his pace. 

“Shit, look at you,” Eddie mumbles as he watches himself thrust in and out of you, your pussy dripping wet, gripping his cock tightly with each movement. 

“Eddie,” you pant, every inch of your body on fire, sweat dripping down your body, your skin hot against his as he pounds into you. Your hands map every inch of his back, nails anchoring into his skin as pleasure swells in your body, that knot continuing to tighten as he moans loudly, tucking his head down into the crook of your neck, his thrusts slowing, getting harder and more erratic. 

Your name leaves his lips as you come, Eddie fucking you through your orgasm, ravishing in the feeling of you tightening around him as he thrusts. There’s nothing left to say as he slows, pulling out to release his desire across your stomach. He looks heavenly as he comes undone, all of the tension leaving his body as he finds his climax, his dark brown eyes lightening as he looks back to you. Reaching up, you brush your thumb over the crease that had formed between his brow, softening it. He hums, dipping his finger in the pool of his release and holding it to your lips. You take his finger between your swollen red lips, tasting him, sucking his finger down to the ring. He groans. 

“I think next time we’ll see what those lips look around my cock, yeah?”

[alixinwwonderland]

112

"Lenny? What on earth -"

Midge opens the door a little wider, ushering Lenny into the office, still brightly lit despite the late hour.

"Shit, I didn't think you'd be here," he says, wincing as the frown causes the scrape on his cheek to stretch just the wrong way.

"Midge? Who the fuck is knocking at this godforsaken - Oh. You." Susie emerges from around the corner, looking as harried as ever but still mustering the energy to narrow her eyes at the rumpled comic standing in her lobby.

"If you're not here for me, then you're here for -"

Lenny cuts Midge off with a wave of his hand.

"I was nearby, ran into some folks, things went south, I needed to stop and get my bearings, I remembered the office was around these parts, and I thought I could beg Susie to give a poor soul in need five minutes of sanctuary," he says dryly.

Midge narrows her eyes, running a critical gaze over Lenny's form.

"Why are you bleeding?" she asks suspiciously. He reaches a hand up to rub his tired eyes, cautious to avoid his injured cheek and jaw.

"Bleeding? Who the fuck is bleeding in here? We just had the floors cleaned and it'll takes forever to get the stains out again!"

Lenny's eyebrows raise even higher at the male voice from around the corner. Frank and Nicky emerge, Frank with a dishtowel over his shoulder and Nicky wiping damp hands on an apron. They stop short when they see the identity of the unexpected visitor.

"Hey! You're Lenny Bruce!" Nicky says enthusiastically, a grin splitting his face.

"So they say," Lenny replies. "But don't spread the word."

After the requisite introductions and handshakes (Lenny learns that he is apparently very popular among a certain subset of the New York population, and he's not sure whether to be flattered, frightened, or both), Midge fixes her gaze on him again.

"Lenny."

"Midge."

Susie looks between them, then clears her throat loudly.

"Uh, Frank, Nicky, lemme help you finish up with those dishes. You said yourself, can't leave copper pots too long or you'll never get 'em clean again."

"Shit, you're right. I take that pot back to Philomena with stains and she'll be after me with her bastone!" Frank scurries back to the kitchen, Nicky and Susie trailing behind. Midge continues staring at Lenny until he breaks her gaze, fidgeting.

"Look, you don't need to -"

"Worry? Little late for that, don't you think?" His shoulders sag at the worry laced beneath her sharp tone. Reaching out, he takes one of her hands. She doesn't pull away, which is a good sign.

"Look. I ran into a few fellas I used to ... know," he says, and Midge has been around him long enough to understand what he means by know. "They wanted to talk, I didn't, they kept pushing, and at some point..."

"At some point?" Midge asks, now worried about much more than just a scrape on a cheek.

"Let's say, I may have lost my temper and told them exactly what I think of them and their ... line of work," he says, and there's a tiny grin on his face - he might have wound up with a fist to the face, but he does have a gift for language, and using his words has rarely felt so satisfying."

"Lenny," Midge says, but it's softer this time.

"Fuck, Midge, I dunno. It was just ... they were saying all the things they always said, and I could feel ... the things I used to feel, and I just ... I was gonna give into one temptation or the other at that point, and I figured this was the better one. Fuck, I'm sorry."

His head has drooped at some point during his speech, and Midge just sits, one hand in his and the other gently running through his curls. A cough sounds from behind him, and they both look up to see Nicky standing there, a bumpy, damp bundle of cloth in his hands.

"I thought you might need this," he says, holding up what Midge can now see is a bit of ice wrapped in a dishcloth.

"Thanks, Nicky," she says, getting up and taking it from him.

"Thanks, Nicky," Lenny echoes, only a hint sarcastically.

"Hey, you gotta keep that face in shape. That's part of the whole appeal, ain't it?" Nicky comments. He pauses in the doorway, a thoughtful look on his face.

"You said something about some fellas bothering you?" At Lenny's nod, he continues. "Well, you just say the word, Mr. Bruce. Me and Frankie, we can have a little chat with 'em, gentlemen to gentlemen, you know."

"Uh-"

"Just think about it, all right? We like you, and even if we didn't, you're important to Midge, and Susie, which means you're family too."

Nicky strolls back to the kitchen, humming under his breath. Lenny looks up at Midge, eyes wide with amusement (or panic, or a little of both).

"Midge, please tell me what I think just happened there didn't just happen."

Midge just pats his hand.

"Keep that ice on your face."

[erensrag]

bimbo!reader x judgmental nerd eren

eren x y/n (wc: 3173)

warnings: nswf, slut shaming, slight dubious consent

i don’t think i did this correctly….

"no please, take your time. it's not like we've been here for hours." eren's sharp voice brings you out of your thoughts.

his piercing gaze is right there to meet yours when you finally stop staring at the wall. you chew on your pencil, quickly diverting your attention to the paper in front of you. you've done your best to avoid looking at him the majority of the time you've been here.

it's not your fault you can't look into his eyes for longer than a second. he's the one who's always observing you with that cold, calculating stare. you've been on the end of judgmental looks and not so quiet whispers for years now and have learned to not let them bother you—well you thought you mastered the art of simply ignoring those kinds of people. until eren.

you didn't even know he existed until a few weeks ago. the introduction for you two consisted of a simple bumping into each other in the crowded hallways of school, it ended with him bitterly muttering something about idiot cheerleaders as he stumbled away. not even sparing you a second glance. after that, you saw him often and he made his dislike for you evidently clear.

which makes no sense. how can someone not like you?

it's usually jealous girls giving you the stink eye and making up the ridiculous rumors. they're the ones who don't want to associate themselves with you. not nerdy nobodies who can't walk without stumbling over their own two feet. no, people like him usually worship the ground you walk on. or at least drool a little.

seriously you've tried everything to get rid of that menacing stare and frigid tone he always greets you with. it's like he's immune. "jesus y/n, how dumb are you?"

and they definitely don't talk to you like that. you know you're not the brightest, which is why your teacher got this jerk of a nerd to tutor you right before exam week but is that really an excuse for him to treat you like this? biting the inside of your cheek, you nudge a corner of your sweater until your left shoulder is exposed. leaning forward and batting your eyelashes which gets no response from him other than a blank stare. "i'm not dumb. i just don't get it." you pout. "can't you just tell me the answer? we've spent like thirty minutes on this question."

"thirty minutes cause you're an idiot." he mutters more to himself.

"i'm trying my best!"

"you should've learned this months ago. you would've if you didn't spend your time skipping class to hang out with your pig muscle boyfriend."

"he's not my boyfriend..." you go back to chewing on the pencil.

"so you just make out with any guy behind the bleachers?"

"you seem to know a lot about me." you look at him again, that stupid cold stare looking back at you through those glasses.

"who doesn't. you're y/n. the whole school knows of your...activities."

"those are just rumors." some of them are. most are true. you enjoy living life to the fullest. it's not your fault the people in your school saw a confident, attractive woman and instantly decided to put less than appealing labels on her. "and besides they're none of your business."

"whatever. just solve this, this is taking longer than our usual sessions and my mom will be home soon."

you groan, looking down at the textbooks and not understanding a single word. “please just tell me the answers.” you ask one last time, desperate.

“no.”

you huff, returning your attention to the book. “you’re going to age badly with all that scowling you do. just so you know.”

“shut up.”

"eren..." you say after five minutes which causes a frustrated sigh to leave his lips. "do you have an issue with me?" it's been four sessions of the frigid tension he always puts between you two and there's a lot more to come before graduation so you just want to get whatever problems he has with you out of the way.

it takes a few seconds before he's looking up from the textbook, pushing his glasses up as he sends you probably the most intimidating glare you've seen from him. "excuse me?" the very tone of his voice has goosebumps forming on your skin but you force yourself to stand your ground. you're not going to let some loser who's probably never even kissed someone to look down on you.

"you— you just seem to—"

"i don't have an issue with you y/n." he slams the book on the table causing you to jump. "having an issue with someone like you would imply i care enough and trust me i'll never care for such a ditzy little slut who doesn't respect herself."

you've been called worse than that and usually by scorned boys you hooked up with. but they were popular gym rats, not some overconfident lanky freak. you had a snarky reply on the tip of your tongue but with the cogs in your brain suddenly malfunctioning, you could only stutter out a pathetic, "i—i'm none of those things!"

"really?" he scoffs, actually getting up and walking over and as he does you think maybe it would've been a safer option to just keep your mouth shut. "wide doe eyes without nothing behind them. check." he starts. "plump lips perfect for what you do best. check." and the asshole has the nerve to slowly swipe his fingers across your bottom lip.

you should stand up, tell him to go to hell and get out of here but you're frozen. limbs not moving an inch as he continues, "empty little head. check. skimpy outfits to attract attention. check. i mean let's face the facts.."

you never would've thought the loser that always sits in the back of the class with his nose buried deep in a book would speak like this to you. it's insulting. freaking degrading. he knows nothing about you and yet he has that expression on his face like he does. "if i'm such a ditzy little slut as you so nicely put then i'd be jumping at the chance to hook up with you but here we are." you seethe.

that seems to finally strike a nerve as he scoffs, crossing his arms over his chest. you cut him off before he can defend himself.

"is that it...you're angry i haven't made a move on you because that's what sluts do isn't it? bone everything they see? is your pride wounded that i don't see you in that way, eren?" you let out a mirthless laugh. "well news flash, pretty girls like me don't go for freaks like you."

you got up, ready to grab your things and run out all while trying to ignore the nerves inside of you. he just stands there, rigid and glaring. "really?" he asks once your books are back in your bag.

"y—yes. now if you'll excuse me—" your wrist is being grabbed before you can take another step and for a second both of you are stunned, you mostly frozen in your spot because this creep has the audacity to touch you after everything he just said. you don't know what his excuse is but he only stands there like a shocked puppy before pushing you on the desk.

a gasp escapes your lips at being manhandled by him  of all people, what the fuck is he doing? you're on your stomach, feet on the ground as the fucker puts a hand on your back, keeping you there. "w-what are you doing?" you pant out, bewildered at everything that just happened.

"i..." he trails off, not saying anything before manhandling you again. only this time it's for you to lay on your back and fuck, you could fight back. he's surprisingly strong for such a lanky freak but you're a cheerleader who does complex moves out on the field almost every day. you could kick him off, slam that big textbook in his face to the point his nose breaks and run out, making sure to report him.

but you don't. it's not that you can't. for some reason, you just don't want to. maybe it's curiosity, to see what exactly he plans on doing. to see if a loser like him actually has the balls to do anything but back away and apologize profusely.

"you're not fighting back." he simply says, sounding a bit confused as he comes to lean over your body. his hands on either side of your head as he stares down, those stupid piercing eyes staring down at you. "why?"

"shouldn't i be the one asking the questions here? like why the fuck you have me on this desk?"

he raises an eyebrow, leaning back and grabbing your thighs causing you to squeal in surprise. he spreads them, raising the dress you’re wearing until it's pooling at your stomach before you can even blink.

shit. what's wrong with him?

what's wrong with you? you should be kicking at him, you could easily shove him off. you could do it in a blink of an eye so why the hell aren't you.

where there's supposed to be fear...there's only anticipation. "you really are a slut." he laughs cruelly, pulling your panties down until they're completely off. where he throws them, you don't know. probably in some corner to hide so you forget about them, who knows what a pervert like him would do with it?

"you barely know me and yet...look at this." you shudder as his finger circles your clit before swiping across your cunt, bringing his hand up to show you your slick as if for emphasis.

"shut up." you grit through your teeth. "you're—" you don't have time to finish your insult before he's kneeling down, tongue immediately latching onto your clit.

your nails instantly scrape against the desk, shuddering as he begins to suckle on your clit. his tongue delves into you, fingers digging into your thighs on purpose as if the freak wants to hurt you. you can play that game too if he wants, fingers going to grab at the strands of his dark hair, pulling as you ground your hips against his annoyingly experienced tongue.

usually, your sexual partners don't willingly choose to eat you out but here is he. practically eager to get to business. he acted so high and mighty and still has the gall to continue doing so yet he's the one on his knees right now. freaking nerds are so easy. even overly judgmental ones with sharp gazes.

he’s basically lapping at you, moving from sucking your clit to eagerly drinking up your juices. never coming up for air as if he was made to simply do this. "f—fuck." you didn't want to make any noises, any implications that what he's doing is actually making you feel good but dammit it's hard when a tongue is diving deep into your most sensitive parts.

a particular bite has you instantly bringing your legs together but he quickly grabs them, forcing them apart to shove his face in between your thighs again. your breath catches in your throat as he licks up your dripping pussy. he doesn’t relent even once and the moans won’t stop escaping your lips, “sl—slow down. gonna…dammit.”

his tongue licks…freaking everywhere. the obscene noises causing you to hang your head back, he’s licking and sucking everything up as if it’s his favorite meal.

and it’s embarrassing. how fast you come. but how can not you? you mercilessly pull at his hair and shamelessly moan when you do. somehow you're the sweating and panting one as he stands up. "so that's what all the hype is about?" he tsk, seemingly bored.

it takes a few seconds for you to find the breath to say “don't act like you didn't enjoy that, with the way you were eagerly—”

"shut up." he takes his glasses off, putting them to the side before grabbing your thighs and pulling you closer to him.

"you're disgusting, you know? the nerve you have—"

"i spent the last two hours teaching you simple biology and somehow you couldn't do one question by yourself, if i'm testy that's all on you.

"it's not my fault." it comes out as a whine and you hate it, you were supposed to be insulting him. at least have some pride when you're about to be fucked by the guy who looks at you like you're nothing but a dirty piece of gum.

"shut up, for crying out loud. shut up." his voice is raspy as he unbuckles the belt to his revolting khakis.

you can't help as your eyes widen once his cock is in view. for such a nerd, he's actually packing. one hand holds your hips as the other guides his dick towards your leaking area and slight panic starts to take over. "a-aren't you gonna prep?" as orgasmic as that oral job was, you doubt just that will be enough to prepare you for that.

he grins, probably the first smile you've ever seen on his annoyingly handsome face. "don't worry, i'm sure a slut like you has a loose enough cunt."

"you little shit! that's—" your words get caught in your throat, back arching as he moves his hips forward, piercing inside of you. "fuck."

a broken sound leaves your lips as he continues to push his length in. it doesn't hurt like you expected it to but there's still a strong ache that you know will leave you limping tomorrow morning. it burns, burns so good you have to squeeze your eyes shut. you need something to hold onto as he starts to move, anything to give you some sort of balance but the flat surface underneath you offers no help. "ngh...eren..." you're not sure what you want to say but he doesn't give you time to think of something before he sets a rhythm.

it's surprisingly slow at first, like he wants you to feel every vein on his cock and you do. your walls desperately clench around him as you bite on your bottom lip, the room suddenly feeling too hot as his fingers grab your chin, forcing you to look at him. into that stupid gaze he won't stop staring at you with. his mouth is slightly open but no sound comes out. he's perfectly collected and you hate it. people like him should be cumming the second you touch them but he's...it's annoying.

his pace starts to speed up—he doesn't even give it another second before he's ramming inside of you. holding your hips with both hands as he sets a brutal pace that has you moving up and down the desk. "p-pretty decent for a nerd—ah!"

still, he stays silent. ugh, what's wrong with him? you bring your arm up to your mouth, muffling the moans spilling out of your lips in spite but his hands are immediately pulling them off. he chuckles, coming close enough that his breath fans against your face and a lewd moan comes out of you as he hits an even deeper spot. "don't do that, we all know this is what you want. to be fucked hard and fast to the point you're nothing but a mindless whore whose only purpose is to scream in pleasure."

you don't respond, biting down hard on your lips. his thrusts became more aggressive as he scoffs, "fine." his hand finds its way to your throat, squeezing slightly.

you suck in a shuddering breath just as his hold tightens, bordering on dangerous but for some reason the lack of air only makes your pussy throb, clenching tight around him. why does it feel good? why does everything he's doing to you only make you want more? his thrusts have now gotten erratic, almost forcing your body off the desk but the hold on your hips and throat keep you right where you are. you want to let out the moan clawing out from inside your throat but his grip stays, merciless as he pounds into you.

you don't know how much of this you can take, everything feels too hot. it's too much. "fuck look at you, didn't think you could look even more dumb." he pants, staring down. he finally removes his hand from your throat and you cry out the second he does.

"eren, please i'm—fuck...too much, it's too much." you gasp even though a sick part of you knows you could do this all night.

but right now...with the way his voice is dripping with cockiness— you hate it, hate the way he looks at you and talks to you. it's infuriating and too much. a tsk comes out of his mouth, "who knew you had a limit?" he rolls his eyes and in the next second, he's spilling inside of you. spilling and spilling until some drip on the floor.

like he's been holding himself back all this time.

fuck. he could've at least let you release a second time. you didn't think the asshole would be finishing right after you said that. you're panting, eyes staring at the white ceiling as he pulls out. he zips up his stupid ugly looking khakis as he steps back. "can you get off my desk now?"

the nerve of him...ugh. you slowly sit up, dress sticking to your skin due to the sweat and you have to refrain from asking to use his shower before leaving.

he gets you your bag and you slowly take it, throat aching and dry. there'll definitely be bruises around your throat and hips tomorrow and you're sure he's secretly delighted at that fact. "uh...." you trail off.

this is usually the part where they ask for your number, pleading for a second night with that desperate look in their eyes but he doesn't even send you another glance as he gathers up the papers on the desk, putting them into a binder. "make sure to study before sleeping tonight...if your body can handle that." his lips slightly curve up at that last part but he's not bragging, no just mocking you.

"o...okay." you lick your dry lips, suddenly needing a mint. "uh...bye?" you stand up too fast, cursing at yourself for it but his arm is around your hips before you can fall.

you bite the inside of your cheek, the proximity too close even though he was just inside of you a minute ago. he sighs, "do you need a ride home?" he asks grudgingly.

and you should say no. you don't need to be in an enclosed space with this asswipe for another second. just say no and walk into class the next day, demanding for another tutor. and then you'll never have to talk to him ever again.

but instead a weak nod comes out.

[genavere]

Former Arrangements

By Genavere

Chapter One

A shiver ran down her spine as she looked out into the dark streets of Magnolia and hesitated in the doorway of the guild. It was silly, really, why would she be afraid to go home in this peaceful city? She was a wizard, crying out loud! If anyone could handle going home alone in the dark, she could.

Yet…

She barely caught herself from reaching up and rubbing her arms. That would have drawn the attention of the few remaining people in the guild, if her awkward pause in the doorway had not.

“Lucy?” Mira called out to her, a concerned list in her tone. “Is everything all right?”

“Yeah, of course it is,” she gave her best smile. “Why wouldn’t it?”

The barmaid frowned, setting down the tray of dirty plates and went to stand by the celestial wizard. “I don’t mean to pry,” –famous words that Lucy knew was not true in any sense— “but I have notice that you seem a bit off the last couple of weeks.”

“R-really?” That surprised her. While she knew she had been a bit off, she had not realized it had been so obvious to others.

“Yeah, but only when you have been in town for a day or more.” Mira pressed a finger against her lips in a manner of thought. “When you leave for a job, you seem relieved and eager. Has something been bothering you here?”

Lucy pressed her lips together, going over everything Mira said and her own thoughts. There were concerns, ones that had started months after the guild disbanded and she had been alone. Only her spirits knew about what she had gone through during those months.

She glanced back at Mira. Maybe… “Do you have time to talk? I know it is late, and you probably want to head home—”

A hand grabbed hers, tugging her away from the entrance and towards the bar. “I always have time to talk. Let’s get something to drink while we do.”

#####

Something to drink ended up with a spread of snacks across the table, a pitcher of a summer tea blend, and the two women sitting across from each other while Lucy talked about what had been bothering her. And if she was honest with herself, it was nice to just sit on equal grounds with the other woman and get things off her chest.

“It just seemed that once the guild was gone and Natsu wasn’t by me, the dinner bell had been rung,” she said, admittedly. “So many people came out of the woodwork to give me gifts and flowers, they asked me on dates or for signatures. At first it was kinda nice, you know. I thought with working at Sorcerer’s Weekly and being a Wizard, things were starting to look up.”

“I am guessing that’s when you realized the darker side of that popularity,” Mira smiled softly.

“Yeah…I actually had to move twice while in Crocus because my place kept getting broken into by crazed fans. The last place I was at had security, and Jason even managed to secure extra through our work to keep my place safe.

‘Loke would make sure to walk me home at night, and I began really working on becoming stronger by training with Capricorn. With the war and going on that 100 year quest, I forgot all about it. Things had been really nice.” She paused, her eyes staring off as if seeing something that was not there.

“But now…it just feels like there are eyes on me again,” she sighed, dropping her head on the table next to her half full glass. “I can’t tell Natsu, he will either think it is a joke like when I found out my father was following me or he will go overboard after everything that has happened over the years.”

Mira thought for a moment, tilting her head to the side as she watched the woman in front of her. Gone was the inexperienced teenager that came through the doors so many years ago. She had bloomed quite fiercely into a remarkable woman who got along with nearly everyone in the guild. If any of their fellow guildmates had heard of these concerns, they would have stepped up to help. As any family would do.

“Hmm, I really do not believe you are giving him enough credit.”

Lucy lifted her head up just enough to glance at her. “What do you mean?”

“Exactly what I said,” she smiled, her eyes curled as she did. “While he may still be immature in many regards, he takes things seriously if they could harm any of his nakama.” Especially you, she added silently to herself, eyeing the marks on the blonde’s neck. As the resident barmaid and gossip queen of the guild, not much slipped her notice.

“It is clear this is effecting you to the point you don’t seem comfortable,” she reached out and touched her hand with the guild mark. “And a few of us have noticed you haven’t been as active as you usually are.”

“Really?”

“Yep,” she gave a firm nod. “I would suggest talking to Natsu and even the master about this matter. If you don’t feel safe, then that needs to be addressed.”

It would not hurt to take a proactive approach to the matter, Lucy thought. “Yeah, you’re right. I mean, even if it ends up being nothing, it would be better to be safe than sorry.” She sat up straight and nodded firmly. Talking to Master in the morning about what she had been experiencing helped her feel like things were a bit more in her control. And if Natsu got a bit out of hand with the information, he was one who could put him in his place easily.

“Now that I think about it, I almost feel like I should tell Erza and Gary, too.” Wendy would be a good choice, too, she mused. And if Natsu knew, then Happy would find out, and from him Carla and Lilypanther. After that, Gajeel would know and then Levy…

Just the thought of how information spread in the guild made her eyes spin.

“Or, you know, maybe I will just sit them all down tomorrow and discuss it with the whole team. Not like the whole guild won’t find out by the end of the day once the word gets out.”

Mira chuckled and laid her cheek on her hand. “That’s the spirit!”

“Funny how you didn’t comment about the whole guild finding out…”

“Oh Lucy,” she waved her hand in the air, “I know exactly how our guild is. Neither of us need to explain it.” They both shared a laugh at that.

Glancing up at the clock, both of them realized how late it actually was. “Wow, I am surprised Natsu hasn’t come looking for me yet.” It would be a rare night that the DragonSlayer would not at her apartment, unless he got there earlier and fell asleep.

“I did wonder, since you came back from that quest” –neither needed her to elaborate on which quest it was— “I have noticed none of you are quite the same. People change, yes, and I know you and Natsu got together during the quest, but I just need to ask: did something happen?”

Ghostly claws gripped her, encompassing from her right cheek down to her collar bone and blood ran down as they inched deliberately across her skin. An icy fear clenched her chest. “N-no…nothing more than usual.”

Mira watched the blonde pale companied by a sheen of sweat. A heartbeat of a moment had her tensing for the woman to be sick, but the look in her eyes conveyed a different matter. After they had come back from the mission, the team reported to the master in the privacy of his office. They spoke of some of the things that happened, but not of everything.

She gave her a soft smile. It was guaranteed to be a difficult mission since even Gildarts had difficulties with it and had spent three years away to attempt it. There was bound to be trauma, especially with the track record Team Natsu tended to have.

“My, it is rather late,” she said with a change of topic. “Why don’t you freshen up while I clean up everything, then head home. Maybe you can call Loke to walk to you.”

“Yeah…Yeah!” Her mood brightened. “Thanks, Mira, but are you sure you don’t want help cleaning up?”

The Take-Over mage waved her away. “This is nothing compared to the mess those boys leave me with most nights. I got this.”

Nodding, Lucy stood up and stared for the girl’s lavatory in the back. Before she disappeared, she turned back. “Thank you again, Mira, for listening to me. I really needed that.”

Silence filled the empty guildhall and for a moment, everything was peaceful. A sad smile spread across Mira’s lips. With all her heart, she hoped that after everything that has happened in the last few years, their strongest team did not crack from the emotional pressure they each had endured.

><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><

This is an ongoing fanfic that I have been working on for the last couple of weeks. Currently writing Chapter 9!

It is cross posted on both ff.net and AO3. If interested, pop in and take a gander and maybe leave a comment!

It is a Nalu story with an established relationship, and it is set after the 100-year quest, so I am taking a lot of liberties with it.

You can read it on AO3 here.

[nothorses]

Honestly no joke as a trans man I sometimes have weekly/nightly breakdowns thinking about phallo and tonight I’ve sobbed harder than I have in a long while and I just need a place to vent. I’m so fucking jealous of transfem results which look and function amazingly compared to transmasc results. I see trans women with vulvas that are cis passing both in look and functionality all the goddamn time and I have never seen a trans man’s phallo that even looks vaguely realistic, nevermind the function. I just.... not to be overly dramatic but sometimes it actually makes me suicidal thinking about how I’ll never have a penis that remotely looks or functions like how they’re supposed to. I keep refreshing my browser over and over again and check almost daily for any new development in the field and it’s all just a constant stream of radio silence or disappointing results and I’ve just lost all hope of having any remote form of sexual satisfaction. (Also no I’m not getting meta because I’m not shilling out thousands of dollars just for a micro penis that’s useless for pleasuring my male partner. If I wanted a useless micro dick I’d just keep my T-dick.)

So, there are some misconceptions in here.

First: Meta phalluses are not "useless"; the reason so many folks opt for them over phallo is because they do appear more natural, they are more sensitive more quickly, and they get erect on their own. The operation is also less expensive, more minor, and heals quicker, iirc!

Second: Phallo results can also be pretty great! There are a lot of misconceptions around phallo, and a lot of it is because TERFs and radfems have a vested interest in scaremongering about them. The myths are so pervasive that most people who get phallo don't really want to share updates, because sharing updates often means your photos are mocked and ridiculed, and sometimes passed around to scare other people out of getting phallo as well. They hide groups and photo resources behind heavy group security and passwords, and even then they're hard to locate at all.

So the pictures you see of phallo results are usually:

Only the forearm skin healing progress, because that generally isn't censored on popular sharing sites

Only of very recent results, pre-contouring and touchups and early in the healing process, because they were taken by the surgeon at a post-op; and/or

Old and out-of-date procedures, because it's hard for people to get their hands on any photos at all, let alone recent ones- plus people don't know the difference because knowledge is so scarce to begin with.

Part of the problem here is also that everyone buys into these myths; not just TERFs. It's become "common knowledge" that phallo results are Grossy Icky Unconvincing Bad Insufficient Will Make You Hate Yourself. This feeds on the dysphoria of people who actually do want this kind of surgery, convincing everyone that it's pointless, it'll just waste your time/money, you'll only hate yourself more, you just have to live with this body you're miserable in and hate yourself this amount rather than risk making it worse... and on, and on, and on.

So we spread these ideas among each other, too, and now it's even harder to share result updates and pictures from years and years of recovery, from happy people who love their phallo results and are so glad they got it done- because every time they share it, the conversation just becomes demoralizing and nitpicky and dysphoria-inducing for everyone involved, but especially the person who's actual genitals are the subject of such intense scrutiny.

Look, I know bottom dysphoria is hard. It's an expensive fix, you can't be sure you'll be 100% happy with the results, it's a lot of risk vs. reward; and not much information to start with. And it is so, so hard to feel like there's no good solution. It hurts so much, and it's so easy to feel alone. And you aren't alone- a lot of people feel this exact way, and we're here with you.

But please be mindful about how you're talking about real living human beings' genitals. So many people have found that these surgeries are absolutely worth it to them, and have felt they've fixed a lot and helped a lot, and so many people are working so hard to love their bodies- even if those results weren't exactly what they wanted. Their bodies are wonderful, their results deserve celebration, and people deserve the space to be excited about the possibilities, and proud of those results, if they decide those are options they want to pursue!

It might also be worth working on that kind of thinking in yourself, too. Most aspects of transition are flawed; sometimes we fixate on the flaws because dysphoria tells us to, and looking at the positives can help a lot. And sometimes the reality of our transition solves enough of the dysphoria that we find the flaws aren't as big a deal as we though they'd be, too.