#now i REALLY need to read the book to figure out which it is there

[theamazingdigitalraceway]

RACEWAY AU INCORRECT QUOTES

~~~

Kinger: "Do you think God stays in heaven because he too fears what he has created?"

Abel: "What the [%$!#] are you on?"

~

Gangle: "This is so sad...Bubble, play Despacito."

~

Caine: "I don't know if I give the air of knowing things, but I really don't."

Seth: "Your secret is safe with my indifference.

~

Loo: "Why are you smiling?"

Gummigoo: "Can't I just be happy?"

Pomni: "Jax crashed on the final lap."

~

Pomni: "Caine and I don’t use pet names."

Ragatha: "I see. Hey, what do bees make?"

Pomni: "Honey?"

Caine: "Yes, dear?"

Pomni: *sweats*

Ragatha: "Don't ever lie to my face again."

~

Pomni: "MY LIFE IS IN THE HANDS OF AN IDIOT!!"

Caine: *gesturing to himself and Seth* "No, no, TWO idiots."

~

Gangle: "I actually have a black belt."

Ragatha: "In karate?"

Gangle: "No, from Gucci."

~

Jax: "Look. I may not be a saint, but it's not like I’ve killed anybody. I’m not an arsonist (mostly). I’ve never found a wallet outside of an IHOP and thought about returning it but saw the owner lived out of state so just took the cash and dropped the wallet back on the ground."

Zooble: "Okay, that's really specific, and that makes me think that you definitely did do that."

~

Kinger: "A theif."

Zooble: "Thief?"

Kinger: "Theif."

Zooble: "I before E, except after C."

Kinger: "...Thceif."

Zooble: "No."

~

Caine: "Bad things keep happening to me, like I have bad luck or something."

Seth: "You don't have bad luck. The reason bad things happen to you is because you're a dumbass."

~

Ragatha: "If you had to choose between Jax and all the money I have in my wallet, which would you choose?"

Gummigoo: "That depends, how much money are we taking about?"

Jax: "Hey!"

Ragatha: "63 cents."

Gummigoo: "I'll take the money."

Jax: "HEY!!"

~

Loo: "WHY. why did you give Gangle a KNIFE?!"

Ragatha: "She said she felt unsafe."

Loo: "Now I feel unsafe!"

Ragatha: "I’m sorry... would you like a knife?"

~

Caine: "How's the most beautiful person here~?"

Pomni: "I don't know, how are they~?"

Caine: *flustered* "I-"

Seth: *from across the room* "I'm doing great, thanks!"

~

Jax: "We need to get through this locked door. Kinger, give me your credit card."

Kinger: Here.

Jax: "Thanks." *Pockets the card* "Zooble, kick down the door."

~

Pomni: "Seth, can I talk to you for a second?"

Seth: "Yeah, what’s up? Lemme guess. You and Caine are having problems and you want me to teach you how to kiss?"

Pomni: *blushing furiously* "What? No, stop that. I know how to kiss. I’ve read books."

Seth: *snorts*

~

Gangle: "Come on, I wasn’t that drunk last night."

Ragatha: "You were flirting with Zooble."

Gangle: "So what? They're my partner."

Ragatha: "You asked them if they were single."

Gangle:

Ragatha: "And then you cried when they said they weren't."

~

Caine: "Pomni, what do IDK, LY, and TTYL mean?"

Pomni: "I don’t know, love you, talk to you later."

Caine: "Ok, I love you too, I’ll just ask Kinger."

Pomni: *realizing* "WAIT-"

~

Pomni: "You have to apologize to Caine."

Seth: "Fine....Unfuck you or whatever."

~

Jax: "Sometimes I drink milk straight out of the container."

Kinger: "The cow???"

Jax: "What?"

Ragatha: "Kinger, W H Y?"

~

Pomni: "Do you have any skeletons in your closet?"

Abel: "You mean literally or figuratively?"

Pomni: "Honestly, the fact that I have to specify..."

~~~

A/N: Heh, these where fun. I might need to do more

[bloatedandalone04]

Bets & Bargains - Part 12

Series Masterlist

➪in which you ask for space, and bradley reluctantly gives it to you, but that doesn’t stop him from sending one last (and kind of desperate) text.

PSA: strongly suggested to read the warnings before proceeding.

WC; 3.4k | Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine ♡

The second Bradley saw you, his entire body tensed up, because he knew what this looked like. His ex was damn near naked in his bed, and he had just left the bathroom and looked like he just woke up.

Of fucking course it looked bad. 

But nothing happened, and he knew that, but you did not. And you didn’t even give him the chance to say that before you were turning around and practically running out his bedroom door. “Baby,” he called after you and was instantly crossing the room as he glared at Briana. “Get the fuck up and go, alright? I mean it.” Was all he said to her before he quickly followed after you. 

You were smaller than him, and probably pissed off beyond words, so you were a lot faster than normal. When he passed through his doorframe, you were already out the front door, and he had to run down the stairs to be able to catch up with you. 

“Y/n!” He called your name, but you weren’t answering him. You bolted down the front steps and began speed walking down the sidewalk, and Bradley briefly wondered how you could possibly move that fast with such short legs since he was having a hard time closing the distance. 

Just as you reached out and tossed the takeout bag you were holding into the trash can, he was finally given the chance to reach out to you.

His hand wrapped around your wrist, his grip gentle but firm as he turned you to face him. “Please, please, listen to me okay? Please, what you saw, that was-”

“I don’t want to hear it, Bradley,” you cut him off and pulled your hand away from him so quickly, he didn’t have time to tighten his grip before you broke the contact. “I don’t, alright? Just…please.”

Bradley furrowed his brows and shook his head. He needed to make it known that what you saw wasn’t at all what it looked like, even though that was the oldest excuse in the oldest fucking book on earth. “No, baby, just listen, please,”

“I don’t want to,” you quickly say and step away from him. “I just saw your ex in your bed, Bradley. I don’t want to be anywhere near you right now, okay?”

Your words hurt him more than he thought they would, but he still didn’t let you get too far before he was trying to close the distance again. You were the best thing in his life right now, the last thing he wanted to do was fuck that up because of a misunderstanding. “Babes, just stop for a second, okay?” He begged, trying and failing to get you to meet his eyes. “It isn’t what it looks like, alright? And I know, I know, everyone says that, but I mean it.”

“Bradley, please,” you said quietly and he didn’t even need to see your eyes to know that you were crying, and he felt like the biggest asshole in the entire world right now. “Let’s not do this, please. I think…I think maybe we rushed into this.”

That literally left him speechless, because to him it couldn’t be further from the truth. Maybe he rushed into it at the beginning, but everything felt like it was going at the perfect pace to him. And he knew it was the same for you, he could tell. You were lying to him right now in an attempt to protect yourself from him, and that left him with the worst feeling settling in his bones. 

“Y/n, please,” he tried again but you just shook your head. 

“Maybe you’re not fully over Briana, and…and maybe I’m not over Luke. Why else would your ex be in your bed, Bradley? Maybe we just need some time away from each other to figure things out,” you whispered and wiped your eyes. “Can you give me that? Please?”

He didn’t want to give you that. Fuck, he really did not want to give you that. He wanted to beg you some more and fully explain what you saw in his bedroom, but the look you were giving him told him that you were so close to breaking down, and he didn’t want to push you to that point. 

So he nodded slowly, his hand aching to reach out and grab yours as he asked, “Can I call you later? Or…or text you?”

You looked up at him and finally let him see your pretty eyes, then your gaze drifted behind him, and his heart fell even more. He didn’t need to turn around to know what you were looking at as you shook your head. “No, I don’t think that’s a good idea,”

Then you were turning away and fleeing down the sidewalk towards the other side of campus before he could get another word out. “I’m sorry,” he called out pathetically after you, but you ignored him until you were out of his sight. 

Bradley turned and saw Briana swaying on her feet on the steps of his house, her shirt and skirt back on and her heels in her hand. “She ran off quickly,” she laughed as she stumbled onto the sidewalk. “I didn’t even get to formally introduce myself.”

He rolled his eyes and pushed past her as he stepped back into his house and went to slam the door behind him, but her hand stopped it from fully closing.

“Wait, aren’t you going to drive me back to that frat house so I can find my bag?” She asked as if she didn’t just single handedly ruin his relationship with you. 

Bradley’s gaze hardened as he glared at her. “Why the fuck,” he started and she quickly stepped away before he could finish his question and began walking down the sidewalk, not even bothering to put her heels back on.  

“Alright, Brad,” she laughed again, winking back at him. “But since you’re single again, maybe you and I can reconnect and-”

Bradley didn’t even want to hear the rest of that as he slammed the door shut behind him and went back up to his room. Briana had left his sheets sprawled all over his bed, and her mascara was on his pillow, and he wished he could go back to Saturday night when you and he were so fucking happy.

When he stepped forward, his foot touched something soft, and he looked down to see his jersey on the floor, right where you had dropped it before running out of his room. He reached for it, and when he lifted it up, a wave of coconut and rose filled his senses, the same exact scent his bed smelled like before Briana tainted it with the stench of booze.

Now he was miserable as he plugged his phone in and tore apart his bedding, shoving the alcohol smelling sheets into the washing machine down the hall. When he got back to his room, he fell onto his bed that no longer smelled like you, and grabbed his still charging phone. The single text that was sent nearly forty minutes ago made him feel even worse. 

Babes🩷: I miss you, flyboy. Breakfast? On me 😚❤️ 

-

You were a mess when you got back to your dorm.

Your eyes were sore from holding back the tears in public, but as soon as you entered your house, they poured down your face

You felt so stupid and embarrassed. Briana was fucking stunning, you knew that from all the photos you deleted of her on Bradley’s phone as he went down on you. At the time, that was one of the hottest experiences of your life, but now you just felt fucking dumb.

She was beautiful, of course she managed to push her way back into Bradley’s heart and bed as soon as you left. 

You were literally speechless as you leaned back against the door, and the sound of footsteps coming down the hall made you cringe, because you knew Sam was going to have a field day with this one. “Hey,” she said flatly as she crossed her arms. “What’s the matter with you?”

“Not now, Sam,” you mumbled, wiping at your ruined makeup as you crossed the living room in an attempt to hide in your room until you had to go to class. 

Of course that wasn’t going to happen as Sam reached out and grabbed your wrist. “Hey,” she said again, turning you to face her. “What happened? Wait, let me guess.”

She almost sounded excited now and you squeezed your eyes shut as you felt another wave of embarrassment wash over you, because you were about to get brutally ripped into. You defended Bradley when she called him a rebound, and you were so convinced that you had a real thing going on with him, and it totally blew up in your face. Oh yeah, she was going to have a fucking blast making fun of you about this. 

“Your ‘boyfriend’, aka your rebound, turned out to be just that. A rebound,” she started, pulling her hand away from you as she laughed. “And now you’re crying because you thought he was actually into you when all he wanted was an easy lay in a newly single girl.”

The words leaving her mouth were cruel and awful and had you questioning how she was ever your friend in the first place. She really hid this side of her well, you guessed. “Sam-”

“And to think you ended things with my brother, who was waiting for you to get your shit together and get back with him, only for you to dump him,” she let out another humorless laugh and crossed her arms. “And here you are, crying over the guy you chose over him, the one who never actually wanted you in the first place. Am I close with this?”

You sniffled and glared at your roommate as best as you could, but you probably just looked even more pathetic. “You know, Sam, you’re supposed to be my friend,” you say, your voice a bit hoarse from all the crying you’ve done since you got home. “You’re supposed to be comforting me and supporting me, but you’re just making me feel worse, and for what? Because I broke up with your brother months ago, and it only just clicked for you now? You’re fucking mean, Sam, and I’m not going to stand here and listen to this anymore.”

Sam opened her mouth to respond, but you just turned on your heel and speed walked down the hall until you reached your room, and you quickly opened then slammed the door as more tears fell down your face. 

After the sight you walked into at Bradley’s place, and now with your ex friend, you felt exhausted and worn out, despite it only being nine thirty in the morning. Sam pissed you off, and you wondered if this was how Bradley felt after Eli’s interruption of your heated makeout session on the couch. And then you started thinking about Bradley again and how happy you were yesterday. And now you were sobbing harder.

You dropped your school bag onto the floor before stepping further into your room, and soon enough, your eyes landed on Bradley’s flannel he gave you the day after he asked you to be his girlfriend. 

You knew you should throw it out the window or maybe set it on fire, but instead you walked over to it and ran your fingers over the blue and white fabric. The first time you saw the shirt was when he was wearing it as he made you dinner, then asked you to be official. Then you asked him to bring it to you the next day so you could keep it, and you shamelessly wore it around your room pretty often. 

It still smelled like him when you brought it up to your nose, and you felt like you were going to be sick as a swarm of emotions hit you hard. 

Anger. Embarrassment. Sadness. Longing. 

You already missed him, even though it was clear he didn’t miss you.

You hadn’t even been away from him for more than sixteen hours before he had another girl in his fucking bed, his ex no less, and you wondered how many others there were that you were so blind to. 

Thinking that Bradley had a handful of girls coming over to his place after you left was a hard thing to think about, and you really wanted to believe that it wasn’t true. He was so sweet to you, made you feel adored and seen. He was the best boyfriend you had ever had, even though it was short lived. You didn’t want to believe that he was actually a terrible guy. The person you saw when you were with him wasn’t like that, but what choice did you have after seeing what you did?

He didn’t even try to get you to stay with him, even though you practically begged him to leave you alone. But still, you were hurt. 

Your mind was filled with the worst thoughts, and you forced yourself to believe that the only reason he sounded so upset was because he was caught, not because it was one massive misunderstanding. 

-

Bradley was pretty much useless in class as he stared at the wall the whole time.

He was pissed off at Briana and himself for not fighting harder for you on the sidewalk this morning, but you were so sad and certain, he didn’t want to make you feel even worse. So he stupidly and regretfully let you walk away without even mentioning the fact that he did not sleep with his ex, let alone intentionally allow her to spend the night in his bed. 

He wanted to spam you with texts, but you asked him for space, and even though he didn’t want any space from you, he respected you too much to go out of his way to deny your wishes. 

You wanted a break, or a full on break up, and he didn’t want that at all. You already meant so much to him in such a short amount of time, he was scared he wouldn’t be able to get over you for a long time if you were to clarify that you and he were no longer together. You hadn’t said that yet, but he had a strong feeling that it was coming soon.  

He didn’t want to break up. The weeks he’s spent with you have been the best he’s ever had since starting University, and he didn’t want to give that up. It was too soon, he hadn’t had you for nearly as long as he wanted to. It was too soon. 

Once class was over, Bradley was walking back to his place when Eli and Wes spotted him across the campus and began making their way over. “Fuck,” he muttered, closing his eyes tightly as he stopped walking and waited for them to reach him. “What?”

“Ouch,” Eli laughed, nudging Bradley’s side in a way that made Bradley want to rip his arm off. “Rude way to greet your friends, dude.”

“Yeah, man, lighten up,” Wes agreed. “What’s up with you?”

Bradley huffed and rubbed at his eyes before letting his arm drop down to his side. “Y/n and I got into something today,” he answered as simply as he could, because he didn’t want either of these guys knowing his business.

“Damn,” Eli mumbled, “And here I thought you two looked inseparable this weekend.”

Wes furrowed his brows and looked between Eli and Bradley. “Wait what?”

“Yeah, dude,” Eli laughed again. “That chick was all over our boy here, and he was pretty much all over her, too. What happened, Brad?” He asked once he looked back at Bradley. 

He was not about to tell them about Briana, but he didn’t need to, because a fourth guy joined in on the conversation, and Bradley briefly remembered him from the night at the party he met you at. What was his name? Jackson? “Hey,” the guy grunted as he stepped into Bradley’s space. “You just had to take her back, huh?”

Bradley furrowed his brows as he looked at the guy whose name he couldn’t remember. “What?”

“Briana,” the guy said, and it clicked. This was Jensen, the dude Briana was all over in the kitchen at the party. The dude who helped motivate Bradley to make that dumb fucking bet. “I asked her to come over last night, but she told me she was going to see you. Said she was going to get you back or some shit.”

Eli and Wes, of course, perked up at that, but Bradley was confused. “What?” he asked again, gripping his bag strap as he looked at Jensen. “Briana was at a party last night.”

“Yeah, and she said you were there with her,” Jensen scoffed as he pushed his finger against Bradley’s chest. “You already had her, man, you couldn’t let me try her out? You just had to get back with her, huh?”

Eli let out a low whistle as Bradley shook his head, even more confused now. “What the hell are you talking about? I didn’t get back with her, dude, I already have a girlfriend,”

“Had,” Wes corrected and Bradley glared at him before turning back to Jensen and pushing his hand away. 

“I didn’t get back with her, alright? I picked her up from a party and let her crash at my place. That’s it,” he said and held his bag strap a bit tighter. “I don’t know what exactly she told you, but I’m not interested in her anymore, okay? We’re done.”

Jensen gave him a look that showed his disbelief, but Bradley honestly didn’t care about this conversation anymore. He just wanted to go back home, maybe send you a quick text, and finish making his bed so he can lie in it for the rest of the day. 

“Look, she’s all yours,” he mumbled. “Though you might want to rethink the way you talk about girls. It’s probably why she dumped you.”

Eli snickered then he and Wes quickly followed after Bradley as he walked away from Briana’s other ex. “Dude, you didn’t tell me Bri slept over last night,”

“Yeah,” Wes chimed in. “Looks like we owe you some money.”

“No, you don’t,” Bradley quickly said and stopped walking to turn and face the two. “How many times do I have to tell you that the bet is off, and how it was never really on in the first place? Y/n and I are…fine, okay? We’re gonna work things out.”

“Uh huh, that’s what you said about Bri,” Eli grunted, then quickly put his hands up when Bradley gave him a look of warning. “Anyway, party tomorrow? I have a guy coming over to deliver a bunch of beer.”

A party on a Tuesday night? What the hell was wrong with these guys?

Before Bradley could turn down the idea, Eli added, “You can invite Bri,” he grinned with a raise of his brows. “Maybe you two can get back together for real.”

“Yeah,” Wes agreed, “Really piss off that fucking guy back there.” He gestured towards Jensen, but Bradley was already forming an idea in his head.

Maybe the party was a good idea…but not because he wanted to invite Briana, fuck that…but maybe you’d come? You came to his last one, even though you got ditched early on, you told him that he saved you that night by coming up and talking to you.  

Yeah, you were very clearly pissed at him right now, rightfully so, but there’s a possibility you may come, and Bradley would be fucking dumb to not take it. He hoped you would see it as an opportunity to scream at him for doing something that he didn’t actually do, then he could bring up the fact that you’re completely out of your mind if you think he would ever cheat on you. Let alone with Briana fucking Prescot. 

So Bradley walked home with Eli and Wes, and he immediately went up to his room. He tossed his bag onto the bed and pulled out his phone, clicking on your contact. After looking at the cute picture he set for you that was taken the same night he asked you to be his girlfriend, he began typing out a text, and he hoped he didn’t sound too desperate, but he kind of was.

[woodfrogs]

while were talking about javert. "est-ce qu'un âme se rachête? est-ce qu'un homme peut changer? (can a soul be redeemed? can a man change?)" from the paris revival is SUCH a funny line. this guy would have an awesome political blog with the most rancid opinions youve ever seen

[c0rpsedemon]

oh yeah. the reason why i decided to reread tbhk (and thus it was able to hit me like a truck this time around) was actually not bc of mitsukou going canon but actually bc i maybe accidentally started a tbhk book club w my kids at work and wanted to check the contents of it justttt in case before i put the books in their hands

[trans-cuchulainn]

i guess the reason so many books featuring trans characters have them able to go stealth and make it so other characters don't know they're trans unless they say something is because that's an escapist fantasy for many trans authors who don't get that and want to imagine what it's like to live in a world where you don't get misgendered on sight every single day, and because they don't want to write about the latter (very fair)

but also when these are YA books it depends on the characters being able to medically transition at like 14 and i have literally never in my life met a single person who was able to do that (partly because I live in the UK where you can't and also I am old enough that for people my age, coming out as a preteen would've been way harder and rarer than it would be for current teen-aged protagonists)

so idk. i would like to read a book with trans characters who feel like real people living in the real world occasionally. it's hard to walk a path when you never get to see other people do it first and never get to witness it safely in fiction before you experience it IRL, and only ever seeing people walk roads that don't even exist in your reality doesn't really help at all tbh

[forcebookish]

wrote that new topmew fic very quickly and now i'm not really happy with it (there's an inaccuracy that i don't actually want to get rid of dfslkdjf) but now i don't know what to work on >:(

[kalashtars]

[weirdly-specific-but-ok]

for whom good omens is being written

Hey maggots and the rest of the fandom, it's the Good Omens Mascot here. Today I read a post about this tweet:

The accompanying video genuinely made me cry. And I've been thinking about this for a long while, as far back as February, when I saw a lot of conflicting opinions on what people wanted from the third season. It really is true that no matter what you do, some people will be dissatisfied. But what matters is that Neil is writing this for Terry.

And I was reminded of some paragraphs from the Good Omens TV Companion, which I'd read in Amazon's sample excerpt of the book. I know this is a long post, but I really truly do think you all need to read these, I've done my best to select only the most important parts. Here you go:

'His Alzheimer's started progressing harder and faster than either of us had expected,' says Neil, referring to a period in which Terry recognized that despite everything he could no longer write. 'We had been friends for over thirty years, and during that time he had never asked me for anything. Then, out of the blue, I received an email from him with a special request. It read: “Listen, I know how busy you are. I know you don't have time to do this, but I want you to write the script for Good Omens. You are the only human being on this planet who has the passion, love and understanding for the old girl that I do. You have to do this for me so that I can see it." And I thought, “OK, if you put it like that then I'll do it."

'I had adapted my own work in the past, writing scripts for Death: The High Cost of Living and Sandman, but not a lot else was seen. I'd also written two episodes of Doctor Who, and so I felt like I knew what I was doing. Usually, having written something once I'd rather start something new, but having a very sick co-author saying I had to do this?' Neil spreads his hands as if the answer is clear to see. 'I had to step up to the plate.' A pause, then: 'All this took place in autumn 2014, around the time that the BBC radio adaptation of Good Omens was happening,' he continues, referring to the production scripted and co-directed by Dirk Maggs and starring Peter Serafinowicz and Mark Heap. ‘Terry had talked me into writing the TV adaptation, and I thought OK, I have a few years. Only I didn't have a few years,' he says. 'Terry was unconscious by December and dead by March.'

He pauses again. 'His passing took all of us by surprise,' Neil remembers. 'About a week later, I started writing, and it was very sad. The moments Terry felt closest to me were the moments I would get stuck during the writing process. In the old days, when we wrote the novel, I would send him what I'd done or phone him up. And he would say, "Aahh, the problem, Grasshopper, is in the way you phrase the question," and I would reply, "Just tell me what to do!" which somehow always started a conversation. 'In writing the script, there were times I'd really want to talk to Terry, and also places where I'd figure something out and do something really clever, and I would want to share it with him. So, instead, I would text Terry's former personal assistant, Rob Wilkins, now his representative on Earth. It was the nearest thing I had.'

(...) As Neil himself recognizes, this is an adaptation built upon the confidence that comes from three decades of writing for page and screen. But for all the wisdom of experience, he found that above all one factor guided him throughout the process. 'Terry isn't here, which leaves me as the guardian of the soul of the story,' he explains. 'It's funny because sometimes I found myself defending Terry's bits harder or more passionately than I would defend my own bits. Take Agnes Nutter,' he says, referring to what has become a key scene in the adaptation in which the seventeenth-century author of the book of prophecies foretelling the coming of the Antichrist is burned at the stake. ‘It was a huge, complicated and incredibly expensive shoot, with bonfires built and primed to explode as well as huge crowds in costume. It had to feel just like an English village in the 1640s, and of course everyone asked if there was a cheap way of doing it. 'One suggestion was that we could tell the story using old-fashioned woodcuts and have the narrator take us through what happened, but I just thought, “No”. Because I had brought aspects of the story like Crowley and the baby swap along to the mix, and Terry created Agnes Nutter. So, if I had cut out Agnes then I wouldn't be doing right by the person who gave me this job. Terry would've rolled over in his grave.'

And, finally, this paragraph:

"Once again, Neil cites the absence of his co-writer as his drive to ensure that Good Omens translated to the screen and remained true to the original vision. 'Terry's last request to me was to make this something he would be proud of. And so that has been my job.'"

I think that's so heartwrenchingly beautiful, and so I wanted you all to read this, too, just in case you (like me) don't have the Good Omens TV Companion. It adds another layer of depth and emotion to this already complex and amazing story that we all know and love.

Share this post, if you can, please, so that more people can read these excerpts :")

Tagging @neil-gaiman, @fuckyeahgoodomens and @orpiknight, even if you've definitely read these before :)

[campirebitesarchive]

hi besties i just got back from the cardiologist and the good news is that i got answers and im not dying but the bad news is i have mitral valve prolapse and i am relieved and also still scared because it is a valve disease in my heart and it causes a bit of mitral regurgitation which is scary and i am being so brave about it

[joonie-beanie]

Hat Guy's ASMR Commissions: S Tier | [Scaramouche/Wanderer x Reader]

Summary: Subject: Your Commission For [Guided Masturbation Audio - 30 minute session] In which your asshole best friends order a commission from your favorite ASMR artist, and it's a lot more NSFW than you were expecting. "From this moment on, you’re going to follow my directions. I’d say “if you fail to, you’ll be punished” but we both know you’re probably just another people pleaser who will do whatever I say, as long as you know it will make me happy. But fair warning–I won’t be happy until you’re so fucked out you can’t speak a coherent word.” Content: Smut, Guided Masturbation, Toy Use, Name Calling, Degradation/Humiliation, fem!reader Word Count: 6.5k Note: this is kind of an untraditional smut, so just keep that in mind lol

“Sweetheart…you really need to find some way to relax.”

“I agree. If you don’t release your tension, it’ll do a number on your health.”

You really appreciate Lisa and Yae being so concerned for you, but…

“I know. It’s just…not that easy for me.”

By now, in theory, you should have figured out some better coping mechanisms and ways to destress, but alas.

Taking a book from the return bin, Lisa scans it, and then places it onto the go-back cart.

“Well, have you tried getting off?”

Her suggestion makes you jerk, your head swiveling as you glance around the library to see if anyone nearby has overheard. At your side, Yae giggles.

“Calm down…finals have just ended. No one is in the library anymore—they’re out partying.”

You sigh. 

You suppose she’s right. The only reason you three are here is because Lisa is working the closing shift, and because Yae had insisted that you come along to the library with her to keep Lisa company.

“Traditional porn, a good adult novel, ASMR—all would be good options,” Lisa continues.

“I’m not really into porn right now, and I don’t think I have the bandwidth to focus on a book,” you say, resting your cheek in your palm. “As for ASMR…I’m not a big fan. I’ve really only discovered one creator that I like…”

“Oh?” 

Now that piques their interest. 

“What’s their name?”

“He goes by “Hat Guy” on twitter,” you tell them. “He mostly just…posts audio responses to dumb takes, or makes ASMR mocking other ASMR trends, but his voice is nice, and he has a small fan base…despite him kind of being a little shit.”

“How cute,” Lisa laughs while Yae pulls out her phone.

“Well, then…since it sounds like he doesn’t have any relaxing content, maybe you should just go home and take a nice bath. Did you ever use that bath bomb I got you for your birthday?”

“No,” you mumble sheepishly. At your side, Yae taps your knee.

“Lisa is right. Go home and have a bath. I’ll keep her company until she’s done.”

You raise your eyebrows in surprise.

“Are you sure…? I just got here like half an hour ago and now you want me to go home?”

“I just think some “you” time would be good,” she tells you with a smile. You pout your lips, but ultimately decide that…maybe she’s right.

“Fine, I’ll head home and rest, then.”

“Good girl,” Yae responds, patting your ass when you bend over to grab your backpack. You narrow your eyes at her, but aren’t truly mad.

“Be careful on your walk home~,” Lisa says as you start towards the exit. You wave at them both over your shoulder, and then leave the building.

A few seconds after your departure, Lisa turns to Yae.

“Alright, what did you find that you didn’t want Y/N to know about?”

Yae grins, loving that Lisa has already caught on.

“Look—”

She gets up from her seat and leans over to show Lisa her phone screen.

“I found Hat Guy’s twitter and saw that he’s accepting commissions, and look at one of the options~”

She points to something, and Lisa’s eyes hurriedly scan the text in front of her. 

When she has finished reading, she grins.

“Oh, my…well, that’s certainly tempting.”

“I was thinking maybe we can give it to Y/N as a… “you survived finals! Use this to relax” type present. Since she’s always doing thoughtful things for us when we’re swamped.”

Lisa smiles, putting a thoughtful finger to her lips.

“I agree. She’s brought us so many cups of tea over the last few months. It’s the least we can do.”

“Good,” Yae says with a nod, immediately clicking on the commission link.

“She deserves a little…fun.”

Between the end of the previous semester, and the start of the new one, your University has generously given you a long weekend. 

4 days, to be exact. 

Most of this long weekend you spend doing the chores you’ve put off, and working a few shifts at your job. 

It’s only by some grace that you end up with Sunday off. One final day to try and relax before classes begin tomorrow…

You do your best to make the most of it—mindlessly scrolling tiktok, folding some clothes, debating if you should order food out, and ultimately deciding against it, since you just went grocery shopping…

All in all, it’s a pretty mundane day.

…at least, until the icon for your email app appears at the top of your phone screen, and you swipe down the notification to see the title:

Subject: Your Commission For [Guided Masturbation Audio - 30 minute session]

Immediately, you freeze.

Surely, this is a spam email that’s somehow made it through the cracks. Because you definitely haven’t ordered such a thing.

Yet, despite your doubts at the validity of the email, you still click on it—wanting to read the contents before banishing it to your spam folder.

Dear Recipient,

Attached to this email is an mp3 file available for you to download. This file was requested and paid for by “Fox and Witch”, and is being sent to you directly at their request.

Please do not distribute this anywhere else on social media, as this is my copyrighted content.

If there is any issue with the quality of the file, please let me know.

Have fun.

-Hat Guy

Note:

Toys Needed = Dildo, Clitoral Vibrator or Wand

…you must have knocked your head on something earlier and are currently hallucinating.

Because there is NO WAY there’s an email from HAT GUY in your inbox. And that said email is for…for…

Well, you remember seeing a link on his profile about commissions, but you’d never clicked on it to see more than that. There’s no chance he’s out here telling people how to get off, though, right…?

With a warm face, you scan the email again. And then a third time.

You can only assume “Fox and Witch” are Yae and Lisa. And you did just tell them that you like Hat Guy’s content…

You bite your lip, staring at the mp3 file. 

There’s just no way…

Hesitantly, you click on it.

“Hmph. You must be really desperate if your friends were willing to pay for a half hour of my time. Most people are satisfied with 10-15 minutes, but no…they knew you’d need longer than that.”

Oh…fuck. 

Something in your tummy flips.

That’s him, alright.

You’ve never heard him talk like that before, but it’s definitely him…you could never mistake that haughty, belittling tone.

Your tongue darts out to wet your lips, your gaze once again finding the title of the email.

Guided Masturbation.

If you’re not wrong, that means if you hit play, and keep listening, it’ll probably be a lot of Hat Guy telling you what to do…how to touch yourself.

Just thinking about such a thing makes more blood rush to your head—embarrassment blooming in your chest.

Sure, the idea of him bossing you around isn’t exactly unappealing. You’re sure he’d be…less than nice, and maybe even a little sadistic, and perhaps call you a few rude names, but—

You groan and place your phone face down on the table beside you.

“Nope, I can’t—I—”

Standing up from your couch, you trudge into your kitchen.

It’s dinner time—you need to make dinner.

You try to keep your thoughts from straying to your temporarily abandoned phone, and the email that’s sitting in your inbox—but it’s literally impossible.

Still, you manage to cook yourself a meal, and even partake in a little alcoholic drink. (Just because you’re treating yourself, and definitely not because you want to ease your nerves a bit.)

Once you’ve finished eating, you clean all your dishes, and then return to the couch. Your gaze strays to your phone, but you don’t pick it up—instead deciding to grab the TV remote.

You make it approximately 25 minutes into a movie before you can’t take it anymore.

Hitting the pause button, you throw the remote on the couch beside you and then snatch up your phone—alighting from the couch.

You grab your headphones on the way to your bedroom, and pop them into your ears only after you’ve gathered your dildo and vibrator.

Maybe this audio won’t be as hot as you’re assuming, and you’ll end up not wanting to touch yourself, but…better to have everything prepared just in case, right?

Taking a deep breath, you hit play.

The track restarts from the beginning. 

“Hmph. You must be really desperate if your friends were willing to pay for a half hour of my time. Most people are satisfied with 10-15 minutes, but no…they knew you’d need longer than that.”

“I also hear you’re quite the little masochist—but I could have assumed that, considering it’s me that you’re soaking your panties over. Just another slut who wants to be bullied, huh.”

You huff at his words, glaring at your phone screen. 

Did Lisa and Yae tell him your kinks or something?? Those bitches.

“Well, you’re in luck, because from this moment on, you’re going to follow my directions. I’d say “if you fail to, you’ll be punished” but we both know you’re probably just another people pleaser who will do whatever I say, as long as you know it will make me happy.”

Dammit, why is he right—

“But fair warning—I won’t be happy until you’re so fucked out you can’t speak a coherent word.”

With a shaking finger, you pause the audio.

You hate to admit it, but his words—the way he’s speaking to you—is already making you wet. 

You really, truly want him to bully you, and use you like a little toy.

So, guess that means you’re doing this.

Throwing any caution and shame to the wind, you hit the play button again. 

“Now…where to begin? I always like to start with an inspection. Take off your clothes, but leave your panties on. I’m not going to bid your needy pussy any attention just yet.”

You obediently do as he says, stripping yourself of your clothing until you’re left only in your panties.

“It’s unfortunate I’m not there to survey those titties in person, so you’ll just have to feel them up for me. Go ahead and grope yourself. Take a minute and massage your chest…I want to see if you’ll get wet from that alone. Although, you’re probably wet already just from my voice, aren’t you, slut?”

You click your tongue at that last part, (hating that he’s right), but nonetheless bring your hands to your chest. 

You cup your titties, and begin squeezing them—feeling the soft flesh beneath your fingers. 

“Good, keep going—squeeze a little harder now. Ah…I bet your nipples want to be touched, huh? Start teasing them, then—just enough to get them hard. I’ll give you 10 seconds—that should be enough.”

For some reason, the challenge of accomplishing a task within a certain time limit makes your pussy throb, and very quickly, you move your pointer fingers over your nipples—rubbing them lightly, and coaxing them to a peak. 

You’re ashamed to admit it, but they manage to get hard in the 10 second pause he gives you…

“Wow, look at that…what greedy titties you have—responding as I say, eager to be played with. Pinch your nipples and roll them between your fingers. Find the motion that feels best, and do it over and over again, until I tell you to stop.”

Resting your breasts in your palms, you pinch your nipples between your fingers—rolling and tugging them. 

Your eyes flutter shut as you touch yourself, each purposeful little tweak of your nipples causing your spine to twitch, and your pussy to clench.

It’s been too long since you’ve touched yourself like this…

By the time Hat Guy’s voice fills your ears once more, your nipples have started to get sore.

“Okay, stop there. I bet your cunt has started quivering, but I hope you know it’ll still be a while before I give you the chance to cum…unless, you somehow managed to orgasm from playing with just your titties? If that’s the case, congratulations! You’re the most needy and pathetic whore I’ve played with. So pathetic that I’ll give you a pass, and won’t even punish you for cumming without permission.”

The thought of being able to cum from nipple play alone makes you feel even more aroused, much to your chagrin—

“Now, let’s inspect that dirty pussy of yours. Spread your legs, and pull your panties down to your knees. I want you to stare at the crotch of your panties and feel ashamed at the wet spot I know is there.”

Taking a deep breath, you hook your fingers around your panties and tug them down your thighs.

As you spread your feet apart, you end up staring at the crotch of your panties—your lips pressing together when you notice there is, indeed, a very noticeable wet spot.

“Next, bend over. As low as you can go, with your legs still apart. I want to see everything.”

Locking your fingers together, you hesitate for a brief second before you bend over—feeling a strain in your leg muscles as you hit the point where you can’t bend anymore.

In this position, you know that you’re on full display.

“Look at you, presenting yourself to me…you really don’t have any shame, do you? If I were there, I’d be grabbing you and forcing you open wider, but since I’m not, you can do it for me! Grab your ass cheeks with both hands, and spread.”

Breathing a little shakily, you do your best to reach behind you and spread yourself. You feel your asshole clench as you do so, and the involuntary action maddens you, considering Hat Guy’s next words are—

“Such a tight little hole…I bet it’s twitching.” 

“Is it nervous, or hoping for an intrusion? Either way, anal is not the objective of today’s session, so let’s move back to your pussy. Go ahead and spread your folds with your hand. You have permission to bend over with your chest to your bed, if you feel your blood rushing to your head from bending down so low. And if you're not by your bed…where the fuck are you listening to this audio? In your car, or a bathroom stall? Pervert.”

That little quip at the end makes you smile, even as you stand up and move yourself to your bed.

You find it a little endearing how he’s bossing you around, but still managing to be somewhat considerate. You suppose maybe there is more to him than just being a brat on the internet.

Anyway—

Reaching one hand back between your legs, you slide your fingers between the folds of your pussy and spread them—opening yourself up as if he were there to inspect you.

“Now, rub your fingers at your entrance—feel how slick you’ve gotten…honestly, you should feel ashamed. Getting so wet for a no-face internet stranger.”

Sure, your panties were a little wet, but that doesn’t mean—

You move your fingers to your entrance—freezing at the amount of sticky arousal you feel. 

You...honestly can’t remember the last time you’ve gotten this wet.

“Smear the slick around your pussy, and make sure to get your clit. That’s where we’re headed next.”

You do as he says, perhaps a smidge overly excited that you now seem to be entering the main course.

As your fingers ghost over your clit, your pussy shudders.

“Bet you just clenched in excitement, huh?”

How does he fucking know—?!

“I'll be nice and will let you use two fingers. Press the pads of your fingers to your clit, and start making circular motions. Slow. 1…2…3…just like that.”

Breathing deep, you begin rubbing your clit with your fingers—repeating his count in your head, and following his pace. 

With each pass of your fingers, your walls squeeze tighter.

“You probably want to rush, or grind your hips on your fingers…but you shouldn't be acting so desperate just yet, so be a good girl and keep going.”

Huffing, you obey his command,

He goes silent for a few beats, really giving you a minute to continue hopelessly teasing yourself. 

By the time he next speaks, a needy exhale is leaving your lips—heady arousal truly being to pool in your lower tummy.

“Now you can go faster. Rub your clit to the beat of your heart. I assume it's racing, so you should be moving your hand a bit faster than before.”

You haven’t really noticed before now, but your heart is certainly beating much faster than normal…

The steady, yet swift thump of your heart is felt throughout your body the more you focus on it, and you quickly adjust your pace. 

A breathy little sigh leaves your lips—your brows pinching together.

You want to cum. 

“I wonder if you're close already, just from your fingers on your clit…haha. If you are, remember—you don't get to cum until I say so. So if you're close to cumming, edge yourself. Get right to the edge of your orgasm, and then stop. I'll give you 10 seconds after that to collect yourself, but then you have to keep going.”

Oh, fuck…

You suppose you should have realized that edging might be part of the equation, especially during a 30 minute session.

And, unfortunately, the thought of edging yourself for him makes you even hornier—pushing you closer to your first climax—or, well, edge.

“I bet you're probably thinking that 10 seconds isn't very long…that when you start again, you'll still be right at the brink of your orgasm, and will have to keep edging over, and over…hah, well…that's your own fault for being so hopeless.”

“Now, I'll let you set the pace. Find the rhythm and motion against your clit that makes you feel the best…you're going to keep that up for 1 minute—and remember, no cumming.”

Dammit—

By now, your lips are fully parted—quick little breaths fanning in front of your face and warming the sheets of your mattress.

You don’t want to edge, you want to cum, but he won’t let you—

“Also, why don't you go ahead and count aloud? I assume you're in private, so it shouldn't be an issue to let out your voice. And if you're not, well…I guess people will get to hear what a debauched whore you are.”

If this were 10 minutes ago, you’d surely blush and hesitate to follow his command.

But now…now you’re a little closer to being the debauched whore he’s calling you.

“I'll count with you so you don't rush it. 60…59…58…57—”

With headphones in, you hear your own voice in your head—mingling with his. 

His, unwavering, with a hint of mockery. Yours…quiet, and struggling to stay on beat.

You clit throbs beneath your fingers, and there’s a familiar flutter of your walls, despite your pussy currently being empty. 

You’re getting close. 

“I can only imagine how sinful you look right now…oh, right. Where was I? Hmm…let's just pick up from 30.”

Motherfucker—

You let your face drop into your sheets, your thighs tightening and knees shaking.

Fuck, you wanna cum. You know you can’t—know it’s not allowed yet, but—!

“5…4…3…2…1. Stop moving your hand.”

Perfect timing. Right at the edge of an orgasm—you pull your hand away.

You take a second to try and catch your breath while ignoring the unfulfilled ache between your legs.

“Your pussy must be throbbing, huh? Lucky for you, as your benevolent master, I’ll let you stuff it full. Grab your dildo and get on your bed on your knees.”

“Also, I assume you're soaked by now, but if not, and you need additional lubrication, use lube.”

You glance behind you at your dresser, where your bottle of lube sits, but ultimately don’t grab it. 

By now, you’re sure you can do without.

Grabbing your dildo, you climb onto your bed, and obediently get on your knees.

“Now, sit up and position the dildo beneath you. Rub the head between your folds, and then settle it at your entrance.”

You do as he says—a shiver of excitement raking up your spine as the tip of your dildo unexpectedly flicks against your clit while you get it into position.

“I'm going to give you 3 seconds to take it fully inside of you…What? I did say we'll be stuffing you full, and with how needy you clearly are, I figured I'm doing you a favor by letting you take it all in!”

Oh. That’s—

“So, I'll count to three. Oh, and if your dildo is too big, and you're scared to sink down onto it all at once, well…that's your own fault for biting off more than you can chew. But, I'm sure that greedy pussy will take anything it can get.”

It will.

“Ready?”

You take a trembling breath.

“3, 2, 1—!”

In one swift motion, you spread your thighs and sink down onto the dildo.

When the head bumps against the deepest part of you, you can’t help but gasp—the sound positively lewd.

“Ahhh…fuck. You made a cute sound, didn't you? How precious…now you're stuffed to the brim with dick, as you should be.”

Yes, this is exactly how you’re meant to feel…just a little slut who will do anything to cum for him.

Yet, despite his harsh instructions, he seems to pause for a second, giving you a chance to acclimate to the intrusion.

How cute.

“Why don't we start slow…I want you to lift your hips until just the tip of the dildo is inside of you, and then grind back down on it. Up…and down…up—”

To aid in the motion, you place your hands flat on the mattress in front of you, and then begin moving your hips.

Up…and down…

Your walls clench around the dildo, practically begging for more, but the man currently using you as his personal toy clearly isn’t inclined to give you such a thing.

At least, not immediately.

If you had to guess, he makes you continue at this slow, teasing pace for at least 2 minutes—your muscles beginning to strain as you resist going any faster.

Then, his voice fills your ears once again. You nearly sigh with relief.

“I hope your thighs aren't burning yet, because now we're going to pick up the pace. Imagine the gallop of a horse's hooves. I want you to grind on each downbeat. No need to make big motions—just grind on your dildo how you'd grind your pussy on my cock if I was there.”

If he were here, you’d wanna grind on his dick until he’s moaning louder than you are—

“Fuck…”

Fingers curling into the sheets, you find your new rhythm—the sound of your wet pussy beginning to fill the quiet room outside your headphones.

Sweat starts to bead on your brow—the arousal inside of you searing hotter, and your muscles getting tighter.

“I wonder if you can cum from internal stimulation alone…try to find your g-spot if you haven't already. I want you to bully it with your dildo.”

You can practically hear the grin in his words. 

Repositioning yourself, you find the angle that better allows you to rub that sensitive little spot inside you.

Almost immediately, a whine rips from your throat.

“Now…I'm going to issue you a challenge. I'll count down from 60 seconds again. During that 60 seconds, you're free to cum. So try your best, okay, slut?”

Please, you want to cum, but you don’t know if 60 seconds will be enough—

“60…59…58…”

Dammit—

With his challenge invigorating you, you continue messily grinding your hips.

Each pass of your dildo against your g-spot causes your pussy to shiver, and your thighs to shake—your orgasm creeping closer.

“33…32…31…”

A desperate sound slips past your lips, your eyebrows knitting together.

You want to cum.

You want to cum.

You want to cum, but—

You drop down onto your dildo roughly, almost in a pouting manner.

You need more time.

As soon as your climax finally begins to build—your walls clenching down on your dildo—Hat Guy reaches the end of his countdown.

“3…2…1…so…did you cum? Either way, I'm sure your legs are shaking. I wouldn't doubt that your sheets are getting soiled by your arousal, either.”

“Well, whether you came or not, don't worry—there's still more opportunities to orgasm yet to come! That being said, set your dildo to the side, and grab your vibrator instead.”

Exhaling, you manage to lift up your hips, and your dildo slips out of you. 

It flops onto your sheets, glistening with your arousal.

Your pussy mourns the loss.

Setting your dildo to the side, you grab your vibrator instead.

“You can go ahead and lay on your back. I'll give your knees a break…isn't that nice of me? You should say “thank you”.”

You clench your jaw as you roll onto your back, your eyes squinting at the ceiling.

There’s no way he’s serious, right? Counting is one thing, but thanking someone who isn’t here?

“Huh? Did you think that was just a suggestion? Go on.”

You wet your lips with your tongue.

“...thank you.”

There’s a brief second of silence, and then—

“...pfft, hahaha! If you actually did just say it aloud, you're more of an obedient people pleaser than I thought. What a precious little cock-sleeve.”

You want to punch him—

“Anyway, I haven't let you cum from your clit yet. I bet by now it's engorged and begging for attention…go ahead and put your vibrator on your clit. Turn it on low.”

The fact that even just touching your clit causes you to jolt proves that his words are correct.

Hitting the power button, you turn your vibrator on a low setting, and almost instantly—the orgasm that had started to fade away flares back to life.

“Good…I'll let you keep it there for a little while. Actually…I'm gonna go get some water. God knows how upset you'd be if my voice suddenly gave out and I couldn't give you permission to cum—”

You hear the sound of a chair being alighted from, and footsteps padding away from the mic.

“This little motherfucker—,” you pant, your chest heaving. 

You gently rub your vibrator around your clit—hoping that doing so will help you delay the orgasm that’s building—but it’s impossible to avoid.

After another minute, you can’t put it off any longer.

Your body tenses, your pussy tightening, and—

You tear the vibrator away from your clit.

If he were here, you think you’d honestly start to beg him for mercy. Of course, you’re sure he’d say that’s practically your first true edge, and you’re just being a little baby, but still.

You start the countdown from 10 in your head, and once it’s done, put your vibrator back on your clit.

Your entire body jolts as the pleasure that had been denied snaps back to attention.

You’re gonna have to edge again—

“How are you holding out? Did you edge at all—just from the vibrator being on low? At the very least, I bet you're squirming and panting.”

“Now, listen closely. I'm going to make you an offer.”

If his offer involves you cumming, you’ll do whatever it takes.

“I'm going to let you cum with the vibrator still on low—assuming you can. This time I'll be generous and will give you 90 seconds, even. But here's the catch. At the end of this session, you will be cumming. So if your begging cunt blots out any logic in your brain, and you decide to cum now, and then feel it's “too much” later, well. That'll be your own fault. Even if you're overstimulated, you'll be cumming again, so choose wisely.”

“Either way, you need to keep the vibrator on your clit for another 90 seconds. You just need to decide if you're cumming or edging. Get ready. To spice it up, this time I'm not counting aloud—I'll just tell you when to stop. So if you're planning on cumming, try not to waste any time. Because if I say stop and you're right there, I doubt you’ll be very happy. Now, begin.”

Risking an overstimulated orgasm after this is a dangerous game, but—

You press the vibrator harder against your clit. 

You need to cum—you don’t care about anything else right now.

Your free hand grabs at your breast—your toes curling, and your heart racing.

Your back arches off the bed, a symphony of miniscule whines and gasps falling from your lips.

Then, the tension inside of you reaches its limit, and snaps.

Your voice catches in your throat—your body spasming as waves of pleasure rock you.

You keep the vibrator on your clit to draw them out as long as you can, but after a few long beats, Hat Guy’s voice fills your ears once again. 

“Stop—that's time. So…did you cum? I wish I could see the state of you…I bet you're starting to look all fucked out. We're already at the 20 minute mark, after all.”

You can’t believe it’s already been 20 minutes. Yet, at the same time, can’t believe you’re not already closer to the end.

“Now, I did say you'd be cumming again, so why don't you go ahead and put your vibe on high? Let's try and force it out of you.”

It’s fine…it’s totally fine. 

Turning your vibrator on high will be totally fine.

You move the toy back to your clit and push the button until the vibrations are much more intense than before.

Almost immediately, heat rushes through your body—stemming from the still recovering nerve ending on your clit.

You’re over-sensitive. Fuck.

And yet…your pussy still flutters—your muscles tensing once again as another orgasm begins to build.

“Ahh, I bet you're squirming like a pathetic little worm. Is it too much? Do you want to beg me to let you stop?”

“Your toes are curling, aren't they? I wish I could hear you and see you panting like a bitch in heat. Should I throw you a bone? Would that satisfy that sad cunt of yours?”

You are writhing, and panting, and every other filthy thing he’s pegged you as. But—you don’t want to stop. You’re too far in now—your whole body shaking, and your breaths coming quick as the vibrator on your clit overwhelms you.

It’s overwhelming, but you can’t stop chasing that high. You—

“Actually…that's not a bad idea. Stop—now.”

Despite not wanting to, you immediately yank the toy away.

You hear yourself whining, unable to help it.

“Hopefully you didn't cum in the last 30 seconds. If so…whoops~”

You wish you could kick him.

“This final orgasm is going to be our grand finale, so we should really let the sparks fly. And maybe your juices, depending on how hard you cum.”

“Grab your dildo—shove it in.”

You scramble to grab it—your arm darting to the side to recover the dildo you’d discarded a short while ago. 

As soon as you have it, you spread your legs and press the head at your entrance—stuffing it in without any preamble.

A pleasant sigh leaves you as that full feeling returns.

“You're going to fuck yourself with it—however fast or slow, I don't care. And at the same time, turn your vibrator back on high.”

You can tell where this is going, and you honestly think it may kill you, but you follow his instructions nonetheless.

Turning the vibrator on high, you place it back on your clit and then begin fucking yourself with the dildo. 

Almost immediately, involuntary sounds slip out of you—your body writhing against the sheets.

The overwhelming strength of your vibrator on your clit now partnered with the messy rubbing of your dildo between your walls…you’re truly becoming the mess he promised to make you.

“Oh, and just so things don't end too soon, you need to hold out for at least one minute. I'll let you know once you have permission to cum.”

You hardly think it’s fair that he’s saying this now, considering you’ve already started fucking yourself, but even so, you want to listen—want to be a good girl who does what he says, and only cums when permitted.

Holding out for a whole minute when your cunt is already starting to spasm—your clit feeling like it’s on fire—is certainly going to be a challenge, though.

“You know…I bet if this were a live call, I'd be able to hear how wet your pussy is. You're probably gripping onto that dildo so tightly…as if it's a real cock that you're begging to properly breed you.”

If he were here you wonder how he’d fuck you. Certainly hard enough that you’d be able to hear the slap of his balls against your pussy—

“You must be panting, huh? So ready to cum…I wonder if you’d be obedient enough to cum when I say. Why don’t we try? We’re getting close to a minute, after all.”

Oh, fuck. 

You’ve never cum on command before, but you want to for him.

“C’mon, princess, I know you can do it…keep going…get yourself right there—”

Your chest shudders, and tears blot your eyes.

You’re trying. Everything feels so hot. 

The arousal in your tummy swells—tightening up, and searing your insides.

“Cum.”

A sob rips from your chest, and you grind your dildo against your g-spot one final time, before your body obeys, and releases.

With the vibrator on high, this orgasm is much more intense than the last. 

Your breath catches, your spine curving, and your hand releases the dildo in favor of grabbing onto your sheets for dear life.

Despite the clamping of your pussy around the silicone cock, it still manages to slip out of you after a few seconds—flopping onto your mattress, and poking wetly against your ass.

When the pleasure on your clit starts to turn to pain—you finally tear the vibrator away. You turn it off, and weakly discard it onto the bed beside you.

Despite no longer having any toys in or on you, your cunt and clit continue to twitch with aftershocks.

You take a deep breath. 

Hat Guy is still talking in your ears, but your brain is too scrambled to process what he’s saying. So, you just continue to lay there until his words sound more like words again.

“Alright, you must have cum by now. Take a minute to breathe. And when you’re done catching your breath, make sure you get up and go pee, and then get some water. Because I’m not about to be liable for any after-effects of this session.”

Despite being exhausted, you can’t help but quietly laugh.

“Good job making it through. I’m sure we’ll meet again soon…mostly because I’m sure you’ll be opening this file again to get off to, haha.”

“Later~”

The audio ends.

You lay there, staring at the ceiling.

Then, you roll onto your side, slowly get up, and head for the bathroom.

Can’t let Hat Guy be liable for you, after all.

The following morning, you wake up with sore muscles, and a determination to go and beat up Yae Miko and Lisa Minci about their “gift”.

Yeah, maybe you are a little less tense than before, and the stress that had been clinging to you after the end of the previous semester is now gone, but still. They deserve a good scolding.

First, however, you have to go to your 9AM lecture. After that, you’ll have time to run to the library.

Despite the soreness in your thighs, you manage to trek across campus and make it to your class with time to spare. You chose a seat somewhere in the middle, and then set your bag down in the chair beside you.

With nothing to work on yet, considering today’s the first day, you entertain yourself with social media apps on your phone as the lecture hall slowly continues filling up.

When there’s only a minute left before the class is set to start, there’s a tap on your shoulder.

Startled, realizing they’ve probably been trying to get your attention, you immediately take out one of your headphones. Before you can even turn to face them and apologize, they’re talking.

Except…the voice of the person beside you is…eerily familiar. Scratchy, attractive, and perhaps a little annoyed—

“Do you mind moving your bag? There aren’t very many seats left.”

Without saying a word, too stunned to speak, you reach over and move your bag to the floor at your feet. The man grunts, and takes a seat beside you.

As he pulls out his laptop, you finally build up the courage to look at him. 

Dark hair and eyes to match…slim fingers, but veiny hands…a black shirt and oversized jacket—

“Do you need something?”

Oh, fuck—you’ve been openly staring.

Your eyes meet his for the first time, and you open your mouth, but no words come out. The beat of your heart starts to get faster.

He cocks an unimpressed eyebrow at you.

“What? Cat got your tongue?”

This is just too much—there’s no fucking way this is happening—

Unfortunately, before you can finally pull it together and try to redeem yourself, your professor takes the podium at the head of the room.

“Class! Welcome! While it might be a little unconventional to start the semester out on this note, I just want you all to know in advance: this class will heavily rely on cooperation with others. There will be many team projects. In fact—the person you’re sharing a table with will be your project partner for the whole semester!”

…what.

Beside you, the man sighs—clearly unhappy to hear about there being group projects, or you being his partner, or both.

“Great, looks like we’re stuck together.”

“Yep…,” you mumble in response, the first word you’ve managed to speak since his arrival.

He obviously notices, because his lips pull into a teasing little grin, his eyes remaining trained on your still-speaking professor as he whisper—

“Oh, would you look at that? She speaks.”

Your pussy clenches.

Mhmm, yep! 

You’re gonna go jump off a bridge.

[getosbigballsack]

Random thought! - Husband Gojo x Wife Reader-chan #inside the diary

Hear me out! Gojo read your thoughts in your diary and came to realize that he was a terrible husband to you.

He knew he was a good lay, hence the reason he managed to knock you up three times. But as of lately, he came to realize that you weren't interested in having sex with him.

At first, he thought it was just because you were too tired, having to take care of the kids while he works, all day by yourself (in which he understands, and he praises you for being such a wonderful mother).

But that wasn't the case. He just happened to come home early from work while you were out shopping with the kids, and he got a hold of your diary.

Interestingly, he took it upon himself to skim through the pages of your book, just to see what's inside your little head. Nothing out of the ordinary, just little notes and reminders to yourself about the task you had to complete and a few words of encouragement here and there.

He usually doesn't read through your thoughts, always thinking that if you had an issue you'd come and talk to him, so he was about to put your diary back where he found it because he didn't want to pry further into your thoughts, but that's until one page in particular caught his eye.

I find it difficult to enjoy sex with my husband nowadays and I don't know why?

Words in blue handwriting are written beautifully on the paper. He kept on reading, and as he continued to move further down the line, he felt his heart break.

It’s just me, but I don't think I'm attractive enough to have sex with my husband.

I wanted to suggest the last time we had sex [that was a month ago], but I didn't wanna ruin the moment for him because he looked like he was having fun.

Satoru came home today and wanted to have sex. I told him no. He never forced himself on me. He only kissed me goodnight and left to go sleep in the guest room. I know he was upset but did he really have to leave?

It's been 2 months, and Satoru hasn't tried touching me since that night. Am I not worthy of loving anymore? He doesn't even buy me flowers anymore or take me out on dates.

He doesn't compliment me anymore, doesn't tell me that I'm beautiful. He doesn’t even call me baby girl, doll or even honey.

No more I love you, only kisses to the forehead and peck on the lips before he leaves for work in the morning.

He comes home late, I'm always alone with the kids, no more family dinners, no more kitchen, bedroom, and bathroom conversations. No more late-night kisses, no more holding me tightly in his arms while he sleeps.

Does he not want me anymore?

Sometimes I wanna visit his office with the children but I’m afraid that he’ll find my presence a bit annoying. I feel lonely without him here with me.

I should've said yes that night and spread my legs for him,

That's my duty as his wife.

To have fulfilled all my husband's needs without complaint.

But it hurts to have sex, I'm just not in the mood. I'm too tired, I just need my husband to hold me, but he's not there.

I can't complain, he's the reason I don't have to work.

But is it so bad to ask my husband to love me without having the need to touch me?

The last entry to your diary reads.

I'm going to do it today, bare the pain and have sex with my husband, just so that I can feel his love once again. 

Now he knows the real reason you won’t have intercourse with him, or let's say the reason you don’t enjoy having sex with him. You feel as though he doesn’t love you anymore, and he needs to fix that. So, until he can figure out a way to prove to you just how much he loves you, he’ll have to deprive himself of your warm loving touch. 

Later in the day when you came home with the kids, you saw your husband cooking up a storm in the kitchen. “Hey baby girl, want something to eat? It’s been a while hasn’t it.” too stunned to even say a word, you just watched as your kids, ages 3, 4 and 6 ran over to their dad and engulfed him in a big hug. He giggled and stopped whatever he was doing to bend to his children’s height and kissed every single of them on their cheeks. “Hey boys. Did you all take your mom out shopping today?” Oh, that’s right you’re a boy mom. You managed to pop three boys, all of them came out looking just like their dad, especially your eldest son. 

The boys chatted away with their dad until he excused himself and walked over to you and wrapped his arms tightly around your body. You're in a state of shock, unable to move for a moment until he whispers, “can I get a hug back?” and you did give him a hug. 

“Welcome home, have a seat, dinner’s almost ready. I cooked vegetable curry today, I know it’s your favourite,” and indeed it is your favourite. For the rest of the day, he spent time in the kitchen cooking while chatting with his kids, not without taking small glances at you. You all ate dinner together, got the kids ready for bed when night falls, before preparing for bed yourselves. 

You remembered that you wrote in your diary that you were about to try and have sex with your husband, all for the sake of feeling his love again, but that didn’t happen. Instead, you found your husband already waiting for you on the bed, fully dressed in pjs, a cup of your favourite tea in his hand and a warm loving smile on his face. 

He immediately started up a conversation with you, asking you about your day and your trip to the shopping centre. You had no clue what was going on inside your husband’s head, but it’s been a while since he last sat down and had small conversations like these, and you weren’t about to miss this opportunity. 

So with a smile on your face, you told everything that happened today and even the fact that you had to buy a bag of grapes you had no intentions of buying, but you did so because your 3 year old son stole and ate a few while you picked up a bag of oranges. The conversation went all a while until he sighed. 

“Y/N,” he whispered in a serious tone. “We need to talk. I was going to wait until tomorrow, but I can’t bear the fact that my wife would be going to bed with doubts about our relationship and my love for you.”

You swallow thickly and rest your now empty cup against the nightstand before turning to face your husband fully. He reached his hand out for you, and you gently placed your left hand in his. He wrapped his large hand around your finger and gently pulled you until you were straddling his lips. You swallowed that thick lump yet again, before whispering, “So what is it that we need to talk about.”

“Why do you always refuse to communicate your feelings with me?” he asked as he let go of your hand and wrapped both hands around your waist and rested his head up against your chest. “I know I haven’t been a good husband to you these past few months, but I don’t want you to think that I don’t love you or that you’re not worthy of loving.”

“I don’t understand what you mean.”

He sighed heavily before taking a deep breath. “I found your diary in the living room when I got home, and I read through your notes.” Your body tensed up in his lap, your mind immediately racing towards negative thoughts. Is he angry? Why did you have to carelessly leave your diary out in the open for him to see. 

“Oh!”

“I’m sorry for reading through your diary, but I’m happy that I did because my wife won’t communicate with me,” he said with a frustrated sigh. 

You frowned, “Would you have listened even if I tried?”

“I would’ve dropped everything and listened to whatever it is that you have to say. I know it's my duty to ensure that my wife is living her best happy life, and that it’s also my responsibility to take care of your wellbeing, but I can’t always know what's going on with you if you don’t communicate with me.” 

Communication on your end has always been a big issue in your relationship with your husband. It bothered him and he’d hope that after a while you would’ve grown out of your bad habit, but he guess he’s wrong, because here you are now after 8 years of being a relationship total and that includes the four years of marriage, and 3 kids later, you still struggling to figure out a way to communicate your feelings with him. 

“I broke my heart when I read that you thought that as my wife, your duty is to only provide for me sexually or even the fact that you don’t think that you’re attractive enough to have sex with me. What hurts me the most is that you have so many doubts about my love for you. Y/N you know that I love you right?”

“I do,” your voice trembled slightly as you answered. 

“Then why are you doubting my feelings for you? I apologise for leaving you to sleep in the guest room that night, it was wrong of me to be upset all because you told me no.” There was a moment of silence, you figured he was waiting for a response in which you never gave.

“I know I don’t say this as much as I need to, but I love you. I LOVE YOU so very much. I love you as my best friend, my wife and I love you even more as the mother of my children.” Tears started to obstruct your vision as you stared off at your wedding portrait that was above your bed and listened as your husband poured his hurt out to you. 

“I need you to stop thinking that you are not worthy of loving because you are more than worthy. You’re an amazing woman, an amazing wife, and an amazing mother to our children. Just the fact that you're a mother makes you worthy of loving.” 

“Satoru… I- I,” you stuttered, trying to formulate the words inside your mouth, but even if you did, what are you going to say to your husband? You had not one clue. 

“I’m not a mind reader Y/N, so you need to start communicating your feelings with me, because if you don’t tell me, I’m not going to always know,” he said to you as he snuggled his head against your chest. 

“I- I’ll do better.” 

“I’m happy to hear that, and I promise to show you just how much I love you and do whatever it is to ensure that my wife is happy, because your happiness means the most to me. I’ll get you those flowers you want, and I’ll try my best to buy you loads of flowers in the future. And about visiting my office.”

“Yes?” you said. 

“I would love for you to pop up at my office one day with the kids and surprise me. My workers have been dying to meet my beautiful wife and children. And about the late-night work meetings. I can’t promise you that there won’t be any more late-night meetings, but I'll do my best to get home as early as I can to be with you and the kids. I don’t want you to feel as though I’ve abandoned you with the kids. I’ll take a few days off from work too and take the ends out. You’re right we barely have family time.”

“Thank you,” you said smiling as you allowed those tears to run down your cheeks. 

“I’ll do better as your husband. It wasn't my intention to not cuddle and hold you tightly while we sleep. Baby you know you can always smack me in the head or do that cute silly little thing you do and crawl underneath my arms if you want to cuddle with me,” he said to you, and you let out a small giggle. 

He chuckled too as he removed one hand from around your waist to cradle your cheek. “Lastly, this is about our sex life. If I make you feel physical pain, or uncomfortable at any time during intercourse you need to let me know because the last thing I want to do is hurt you. In your diary you said that you wanted to suggest the last time we had sex. I want you to tell me what it is.”

Your face heated up immediately, why would he have to bring that up now. Couldn’t he have waited until a better time. But nonetheless despite the obvious look of embarrassment on your face you whispered, “I was wondering if… if…”

“Yes?” 

“I was wondering if we could try something outside the usual vanilla sex,” you said to him, and he cocked his eyebrow towards you. “It’s not that I don’t enjoy vanilla sex, I love having vanilla sex with you and you know how to be rough when you need to be. But I thought it would be nice if we could do something different.” 

“What do you suggest?” he asked with a sunning grin on his face. 

“Maybe we could try using some sex toys.” 

“Sex toys heh?” he said, and you quickly covered up your face with your hands. “I’m open, I don’t mind getting a few sex toys here and there for us to use. I can order us a few online on another day.”

“Ok…”

“Good girl. I love you.” he whispered as he kissed your lips. "I promise I'll be a better husband for you."

“I love you too, Satoru.”

[lnlightning81]

Dyslexic Fails [LN4]

Summary : The three times dyslexia failed you and Lando

Pairing/s: Lando Norris x Reader

Word Count : 0.8k

Masterlist

Lando Norris Masterlist

Tag List

You and Lando had been friends for years but only started dating over the past years. What started off as an easy relationship as friends turned into something harder when you both realised you were dyslexic and struggled to spell, and neither of you could help the other. 

Lando was in his little office area and you were in yours working on a photo that you needed edited for a customer sooner rather than later but you had become distracted by a instagram post of a friend who’d posted the announcement of their child's birth. 

You had sat there for ages trying to spell the same word repeatedly however no matter how hard you tried you couldn’t spell it and speech to text wasn’t working with your accent no matter how posh you attempted to make yourself sound so you had to go for the fourth best thing after retrying, autocorrect and speech to text. Lando. 

Walking through to his office, still attempting to spell that stupid word. You quietly knocked on the door before pushing it open as Lando looked over with a smile. 

“What’s wrong? Not working?” He asked gently as he pushed the microphone away from his face

“I can’t spell it” you mumbled, holding your phone out for him. Lando took a look at the message before looking back up at you 

“What are you trying to spell, darling?” He asked, turning around in his chair to face you fully

“Beautiful” you replied, tilting your head as you watched him attempt to spell it as well before giving up after a couple of minutes with a huff. Turning back to his PC with your phone still in hand. 

“Chat, how do you spell beautiful?” He asked, and you laughed, leaning against the back of his seat as you watched everyone spell beautiful in the chat. Lando copied it down on his phone for you with a smile he handed it back 

“Thank you love” You smiled, and he nodded 

“You’re welcome. Tell them I said congratulations. Can you spell that?” He teased, and you shook your head 

“No. I can’t” You whined, and he laughed 

“Chat do your thing” you laughed, leaning back against his chair to copy the spelling. 

“Fuck being dyslexic” You mumbled kissing his head before walking out of the room.

Being dyslexic meant that not only did you struggle with long and complicated words but also the word and complicated words. 

Lando had been getting his helmet hand painted by the company who makes the trophies for the Hungarian grand prix and you had joined him really excited to see the projects that they did but when Lando went to sign the guest book that’s when the problems came. 

Lando couldn’t spell a couple of words. Some of which you remembered how to spell and others neither of you could figure out the spelling for which is how Lando’s spelling of family entered the internet with people either saying how cute it was or bullying him for not being able to spell. 

You personally thought it was cute. As teachers have always said ‘Spell it how you say it’ which is one thing that you and Lando stick to constantly because neither of you can spell some words. 

“I hate people that think they know better than us just because they can spell correctly and at first try” You laughed knowing how much it irritated him even when he talks about his struggles with it occasionally. 

"I know you do love, but I bet there's words that even they can't spell." You shrugged, rubbing his back as he nodded

"At least they can read out loud, though," you huffed, and he nodded

"That's very true"

Mclaren had the brilliant idea to put you and Lando in the same video where they made you read things out loud. Now your original plan was to make Oscar read everything out, but when you started that during the video, the admins weren’t happy with that. 

Apparently, you even being here was Lando’s idea in the first place. Apparently, he was feeling too clingy to do a video with you standing behind the camera, and he wanted to be next to you the whole time. 

So after getting told off by the admins, Lando moved towards you a little more so you could work on the cards together. It couldn’t be too hard, could it? 

Wrong. It was worse than reading out loud at school, and you were only reading a couple of lines of lyrics from a song. 

“This games stupid” you mumbled to Lando, who nodded

“Osc you’re reading again” Lando nodded, earning a glare from the media admins. 

“Look, you're making two dyslexics read out loud. To read four of these cards, your video will be at least half an hour long if we keep reading them” Lando shrugged as Oscar held back a laugh from next to you.

Coming Soon

Tag List

@thewannabewriter

@lozzamez3

@barcelonaloverf1life

@hiireadstuff

@mxdi0

@f1kenzzz

@evie-119

@ahgase99

@velocesianz

@talksoprettyjjx

@kat-s2

@scarletwidow3000

@thegrapejuiceblues1982

@jasons-little-princess

@tellybearyyy

@zabwlky1999

@callsignwidow

@lwstuff

@f1ln4dr3cl16mv33

@destinyg237

@GlitzyDitsy

[keyotosprompts]

sweet nothing ₊˚⊹♡

domestic prompts

⇴ person a being mad at person b, so person b gives them some alone time. only to find person a trying to drag them back to bed bc they miss person b’s presence.

⇴ ^ "i thought you wanted some space?" "i don't need space, i need you" (died)

⇴ going over to family dinner with either person a/b and their sibling/younger cousin is IN LOVE with their partner. like they follow them everywhere and get mad when you guys act like a couple.

⇴ "are you jealous?" "of a child? no way." and person a SMIRKS.

⇴ person a wakes up earlier than the other, but person b is latching on so tightly and their sleeping face is just so cute that person a just falls back asleep anyway.

⇴ that thing when you guys are in bed and your legs wrap around each other. but you're also so close that your head is resting on their bicep and you're caged in their body.

⇴ grocery shopping with their partner. "we do not need those." "but they're so good!!"

⇴ target shopping with their partner. there's something very domestic and sweet about just hanging out in target for an hour or two.

⇴ i'll do you one better: IKEA SHOPPING WITH YOUR PARTNER. the furniture shopping banter. "does this match our living room or do you think it's too much?" followed by "well if we get that coffee table we'll have to get that rug." holding hands throughout IKEA while looking for home decorations.

⇴ person a is blasting music in the shower and person b is singing to it outside the bathroom. person b is so used to it by now and they know all of person a's favorite songs by heart.

⇴ staying beside the other when one of them is doing something. person a is working relentlessly hard on this one task. person b is just sitting there next to them on the couch/bed holding their hand.

⇴ "do you think this looks reasonable or should i change it up a bit?" "maybe switch that up a bit babe" [followed by a kiss on the hand for moral support]

⇴ cooking a meal together in the kitchen with fun music in the back, with occasional messes on the other person's face. person a smears flour on person b's face and person b flicks water on person a's face.

⇴ reading a book together and person b is providing commentary while person a keeps shushing them. person b continues the commentary, because deep down person a enjoys their voice.

⇴ ^ "shh. it just got good." "which is why i have to gasp and voice my opinion!"

⇴ watching tiktoks while the other person is around. (is this niche?)

⇴ having a routine together. like, person a & b are brushing teeth together while person b wraps their arms around person a and leaning into the nape of their neck (they are tired and they want to go back to sleep with a).

⇴ ^ bonus points if person b is extra groggy and still has their sexy morning voice. "i think i'm already missing you," person b says while their head is literally resting on person a's neck. "you're literally right here with me."

⇴ OR alternatively... person a & b are both doing their skincare together, except person b's skincare routine is entirely based off of person a and person a was their "dermatologist"

⇴ sleeping in the same bed, except person a is a blanket hogger and person b is sick of it. so, as a solution, person b literally just holds person a so close to their body so that the blanket isn't stolen in the middle of the night.

⇴ trying to figure out how to defrost a car (i struggled my first time and i would have really enjoyed for someone to HELP)

[yandere-romanticaa]

An idea that I really like is Ratio falling for someone who is his complete and total opposite in every way imaginable.

He is the kind of person that operates on pure cold logic and facts. He believes in what he sees in front of him with his own two eyes and yes, while it may be fascinating, perhaps even a little entertaining, to philosophize about various unimaginable concepts they are all indeed just that.

Concepts. Ideas. Things made up from the bottom of the bored human psyche.

Veritas Ratio is a man who is able to grasp many, dare he say, possibly every concept he has ever encountered. He loves a challenge but hardly anything is challenging to him because he is such a genius. He devours books that are over a thousand pages long, the most complicated equations of any science are finished by his hand with such ease that many people might mistake him for a machine rather than a man of flesh and blood.

That's what makes it so fun to see him fall for an airhead. A person who probably doesn't care, or doesn't have the mental capacity to care about such things. This person would rather spend their days dallying away, picking flowers, baking, just doing things that are so mundane and plain (to him). If they do decide to read, it is some trashy romance model, maybe even just straight up written porn if they're just that shameless.

And this is the person who has Ratio grabbing his head in frustration.

He's shaking with anger in his room, golden eyes wobbly as he watches you walk up and down the space ship. You got lost, again. How much of an imbecile are you? Do you truly need someone to guide you through everything? With a huff, the scientist grabs his head made of plaster and makes his exist. He puts the mask on and in no time finds you, all lost in the hallways. You hear his upcoming footsteps before you see him and once you turn around, you are greeted with that bizarre mask you've grown so accustomed to.

You greet the man cheerfully, to which he just huffs. With his arms crossed, Ratio gives you a long and detailed lesson on how you ought to be more careful and aware of your surroundings, that this kind of behavior will not be tolerated. You are not a child and should stop acting like one.

Tears swell in your eyes but none are shed as the two of you turn back, him being a few steps ahead of you. Two pairs of footprints sound incredibly loud in this long and dark corridor. Veritas hears you quietly weeping and he feels the slight inkling of guilt pulling his heartstrings.

... Perhaps he was a smidge too harsh with you.

You are a clueless creature, sure. But maybe, he sometimes reveled in that fact. It was wrong and he would never admit it out loud but his heart whispered it clearly to him - you like this.

Veritas watched you carefully through the reflection of the window, the plaster head concealing the expression on his face. With your lips in a full pout and eyes watery like fresh morning dew, he couldn't help but to be just slightly charmed.

He scoffed to himself as he pressed onwards. He figured he had better standards for himself but that was not the case, clearly.

And just like that, he had escorted you back to your room. He could hear you mumble out a quiet thank you, which he acknowledged with a polite nod with his head.

He's not that cruel. Or rude for that matter!

With the situation now swiftly dealt with, Ratio figured it was high time he went back to his studies. He has already wasted far too much precious time on this, he isn't even sure when he'll finish that -

His train of thought is broken when he feels a pair of arms gently embrace him from behind, the warmth welcoming and dare he say sweet.

Veritas stilled, his body like the statue which some saw him to be. You still could not see his face but his anger could still be felt.

"Just what do you think you are doing?" he spat at you, his tone cold but venomous.

He felt your face being pressed against his broad back, fat tears caking his fine clothing. Just as he was about to pry your hands off him, he heard you finally speak:

"Thank you for helping me. Really..."

Your tone was soft and remorseful. You did not want to disturb him but despite that, you did just that. He was willing to accept your apology and have this situation be over with but what you said next simply knocked all of the air out of his lungs.

"You see, I... I wasn't sure how I could get your attention. I just wanted you to notice me, to talk to me..."

.... Goodness.

He was used to people trying to get his attention but to act like such a pathetic damsel in distress was new. He had to give you credit for your creativity, at the very least.

"I want to be your friend. I also want you to teach me all sorts of things-"

Ratio stopped listening to you mid sentence, his mind running hundreds of laps in thought. Perhaps you weren't the idiot he saw you as. Your little ploy worked, clearly. And if he took you under his wing, who knew what would become of you.

He could turn you into a diamond with his own two hands.

It was embarrassing just how giddy the thought made him.

The shadows of curiosity and some other emotions took over his mind as he analyzed the situation. There really was no harm in taking you all for himself.

Besides, if you were capable of this deceitful plan, who knew what else you could do?

He was eager to find out.

[originalwinnerfanfish]

Well, I did it

Megatron - I love his tfp design. Probably one of the best iteration of Megs. He is huge, heavy armoured, his face covered with scars… He doesn’t looks like an ordinary military leader who is only capable of giving orders, but like real warrior who can destroy any enemy with his bare hands.

So, in the WOF version, he definitely shares some features with Princess Burn, not only because of his might, but also because of his horns shape and dirty-dark scales (that absorbed blood of his enemies)

Starscream - Boy, I hate him so much 🤣… but in the good way, trust me! In my opinion, when the show's creators make you feel such strong negative emotions towards a villain, it means they've done a great job. Also, I think that his animation in the show was absolutely incredible, because even though he's a 3D model, he still manages to move like a 2D character, which is amazing!

I feel that in my design he still looks more like a skywing, than an icewing (which is kinda logical)

Soundwave - This one was tricky. I couldn't figure out what his mask would look like, so I just made his face a really dark color. I think Soundwave has both gifts of the nightwings, and he’s equally great at telepathy and a future vision. So he doesn't really need equipment to predict enemy movements, which makes him an ideal communicator in the WOF setting. His Laserbeak is part of the armor enchanted by Shockwave, and it might also allow him to open portals (but I'm not sure with this one)

Shockwave - My favourite evil genius. He would definitely have animus magic and mind reading. I think Shockwave is the only one who has advanced the study of magic so far, precisely because he combined it with scientific knowledge and created safer methods of using it, that don't damage the mind. It's like if a Mastermind got animus magic in books.

I also like to think that he didn't heal the damaged part of his face just so that his enemies would fear him more)

Dreadwing - This man deserved better! It's really a shame that he was removed from the show so quickly due to financial problems. It would be great if his arc got a proper conclusion in season 3.

Considering that I didn't want to make him a hybrid, it was difficult to choose a suitable color palette. So let’s just say, that I tried my best😅

I don’t think that he would have any nightwing powers, but honestly it doesn’t even matter - this guy can make a bombs, what else does he need to be cool

Arachnid - Did anyone even doubt that she would be a hivewing? Damn, she even got her own “Othermind” virus. Her design was the easiest to work with - just a little poisonous ass (suspiciously similar to Maleficent).

Just like Starscream, I hate her, but in a good way. She's one of the creepiest characters in the entire series, who’s acting like a fucking heartless monster, especially with Arcee, but even so, there's always was something mesmerizing about her. I just really like strong female villains

Knockout - Wery bright and charismatic guy, definitely one of my fav cons!

I tried to draw him as handsome as possible. Worked a lot on the face shape and coloring, and as for me it turned out pretty nice (finally).

Most decepticons think Knockout is as stupid and lazy as all the other rainwings. And it's not like he completely disagrees with that. Of course he’s not stupid and lazy, but if it’s means less dirty work on the battlefield, well, he’ll continue act like a tipical rainwing

(I also believe that Megatron keeps him as an “art”)

Breakdown - Fun fact: "Operation Breakdown" was the very first thing I saw in this series. And it was an interesting experience for 8 year old me. Maybe that's why I'm so scared of eye gouging scenes in movies now…

I think that he didn't have any siblings initially due to his parents nature, and even after meeting Bulkhead, he felt uncomfortable among the other mudwings. And this is why he later chose the side of the decepticons. And maaaaybe because of one cute rainwing influence)

P.s.

I think that, being mostly nightwings and icewings, the decepticons are much more concerned about purity of their blood and rarely accept half-breeds into their ranks.

During the war, there were many animus dragons among decepticons, which is why they have so many artifacts that allowed teleportation and communication at a distance. But, honestly, I still can't imagine what Nemesis would look like in this AU

[stevieschrodinger]

Part One Part Seven

“Hey Buddy, you got dressed.”

“Dessed,” Eddie plucks at the sleeve of the pullover, then rubs his arms, copying what Steve did to show what he meant by cold, Eddie even does a fair approximation of Steve's, ‘brrrrrr,’ sound. “Good?

Steve can see from here that the inside of his closet is a disaster; Eddie must have pulled things down while he was hunting for something to wear. Steve figures he can fix it later.

“Yeah, really good. Come on, lets make a grocery list.”

“Go-ser-eee list?”

“Yeah, all the things you like.”

Eddie follows Steve carefully down the stairs, and Steve is pretty sure he can say good bye to the sweater the second Eddie goes outside; at the very least the bottom part will be dragged along the floor everywhere Eddie goes.

Eddie pulls himself onto a seat at the breakfast nook while Steve gets a pad and a pen, “right. What would you like?”

Eddie leans forward so he can see better as Steve writes – Steve’s already listing stuff like milk and bread and coffee and cereal. “Celery. Cucumber. Peas. Apple. Grape. Pear. Many pear,” he’s watching closely, waiting while Steve writes out each word after Eddie says them.

Eddie leans an arm over the table, pointing at where Steve has just written, ‘pear’, “many,” he insists, “many pear.”

Steve crosses out ‘pear’ and writes ‘many pear’ instead, “that okay?” Steve’s sure Eddie can't read what hes writing, but he does understand the concept of ‘many pear’ being two words and not one, which means he’s grasping this whole thing really, really fast.

“Paper,” Eddie adds.

“Okay, got it. More paper.”

“Okay. Stee go out?”

“Yeah, I need to go to work, and I’ll bring the groceries home with me.”

“Go-ser-ee in work?”

“No...I have to go to work to earn money to buy groceries,” Eddie stares at Steve blankly, “wait here.” Steve comes back with his wallet, and fishes out a few dollar bills and puts them on the table, “So I go to work, and earn money,” Steve slides the dollars closer.

Eddie touches the corner of one of the notes, “one.”

“That’s right Buddy, that’s the number one. This is a one dollar bill.”

“One dollar bill.” Eddie repeats dutifully.

“So I take this,” Steve points to the bill, “to the store, and I can get an apple.”

Eddie frowns at the money, “one dollar bill in work Stee...one dollar bill in store...Stee apple?”

“Yeah, yeah buddy.”

Eddie nods, “Eddidie in work? Eddidie one dollar bill pear.”

Steve snorts a laugh at the thought of Eddie in a Family Video vest, probably shouting, ‘no,’ and, ‘bad,’ at customers who put the tapes back wrong. Steve’s pretty sure the general public could break even Eddie’s spirit.

“No buddy, you have to stay here, where it’s safe.”

“Safe,” Eddie points in the vague direction of down the hall; Steve understands what he means, Steve does the same thing to illustrate to Eddie that he’s going out, “not safe?”

“That’s right.”

“Stee not safe?” Eddie cocks his head, frowning spectacularly.

“Oh boy,” Steve sighs to himself. “Okay. Okay Buddy, out,” Steve points, “safe for me, not safe for you.”

“Why?”

And oh Steve is really starting to loath the ‘why?’

“Because...you’re different buddy,” Steve sticks a leg out and points to it, then points to Eddie’s tail where the end is curled on the floor.

Eddie frowns, but doesn’t push it any further.

Eddie’s inside when Steve gets home, and Steve’s kind of glad, it’s definitely chillier now than it was a couple of weeks ago. Eddie might have his tent, but Steve has no idea what kind of temperatures are tolerable for Eddie; he must be pretty fucking sturdy to live in the Upside Down, but still. Steve has no clue if Eddie’s just mimicking him, because Steve has told Eddie it’s cold. He doesn’t even know if Eddie feels temperature like a human. Still, he probably wouldn't be voluntarily wearing the sweater if it was making him too warm.

Eddie’s laid out on the lounge floor, his book open, surrounded by colored pencils. It looks like he’s making an attempt at drawing some sort of tree, surrounded by grass and sky. It’s not terrible; Steve can even tell pretty much what it’s supposed to be, at least.

Steve's got to tell Dustin that Eddie can definitely see color just fine.

“Hey Buddy, you want to help put your things away?”

“Eddidie help,” Eddie follows Steve into the kitchen, “idge door. Idge. Cold in idge. Pear in. Grape in. Celery in.” Eddie chatters the whole time he unpacks the paper grocery bag, narrating everything he’s doing. He eats a pear when he’s done.

“I got you more notebooks, too.”

“Paper?”

“Yeah Buddy, as much as you want.”

Steve dumps a can of spaghetti into a pot on the stove, then turns as he hears a loud scraping noise; Eddie pushing a chair across the kitchen.

“Hang on,” Steve gets it for him, moving it to the side of the stove. Eddie climbs up, sitting on his tail to make himself tall enough to watch Steve making toast and grating cheese.

“You want to try?” Steve offers the wooden spoon to Eddie.

Eddie frowns at it, “warm?”

“Many warm. Hot. Here,” Steve blows on the spoon for a moment.

Eddie leans forward and licks it. Eddie pulls an assessing face, and then finally volunteers, ���good bad.”

“Yeah. I get you buddy.”

Eddie turns on the TV when they go into the lounge, Steve sits on the couch to eat, “I think the kids are coming over tomorrow. They’re coming over to watch movies.” Eddie tilts his head, “TV. The kids are coming to watch TV.”

“Max. El. Dust bin. Lu-cas. Mike. Will.”

“You got it buddy, the kids.”

“Kids. Mongrels.”

Steve laughs so hard his toast nearly slides off his plate.

Mike shoves a bag in Steve’s hands as he passes him in the doorway, “Nancy told me to bring this over for Eddie. It’s all Holly’s old stuff.”

Steve looks inside the bag and finds a couple of kids coloring books; neither of them used at all. A handwriting book, the kind where you trace the letters and numbers before doing it yourself. A very basic math book, probably for really little kids, but on the first page is a picture of four plus four, represented with two groups of four apples. Steve’s confident Eddie will like that. There’s a couple of other things, and Steve’s sure it’ll all be useful. It’s actually a great idea. One of the books has pictures of clocks, and the digital time; Steve really should teach Eddie to tell the time. Maybe he could get him a little battery clock for his tent.

“Thanks Mike.”

“Yeah whatever,” Mike grumbles, already making popcorn and generally just helping himself to Steve’s shit.

Steve sits in the middle of the couch, El to one side of him, deliberately keeping an empty space on the other. All the other kids are sprawled out on the floor, eating red vines and dipping into bowls of popcorn. Eddie’s watching from the kitchen doorway; he’s clearly still uncertain about the kids.

They’re all lying quiet though, engrossed in the film. It’s probably half way through when Eddie finally risks it; Steve pats the couch cushion to encourage Eddie up next to him. Eddie does.

Usually he sits like a person, the end of his tail laid on the floor like feet would be, but tonight he pulls it up and curls it under him, all protected.

El leans forward, whispering over Steve, “hi Eddie.”

Eddie nods, volunteers back an uncertain, “hi El,” and then promptly hides his face in Steve’s shoulder.

As Steve suspected, the front six inches of the yellow pull over are worn and filthy, marred with grass stains.

Steve leaves him there for a little while, and waits until curiosity gets the better of Eddie. Steve offers him some popcorn; it’s buttered and salty, and Steve’s a solid ninety percent sure Eddie won’t like it. He’s right. He watches Eddie chew with his mouth open, a look of absolute disgust on his face, for a solid thirty seconds before Eddie finally swallows.

Steve leaves El with the popcorn and goes and gets them a beer to share, it’s the least he can do.

Eddie’s interest in the film seems to waver, depending on what grabs his attention the most. He seems to be watching the kids for...well. Eddie probably thinks of them as loud and erratic; it wouldn’t surprise Steve if Eddie had interpreted them as danger. Even if Eddie’s getting braver, that feeling clearly hasn’t gone all the way away just yet.

Steve feels him twitch, on high alert, every time one of the kids shifts.

Steve offers him a red vine; Eddie sniffs it but crinkles his nose up in disgust.

They decide to put on another movie; when all the kids get up to forage and grab drinks and go for toilet breaks, Steve thinks for a moment that Eddie might make a break for it. He sinks down further into the couch cushions instead; pressing close to Steve.

He doesn’t leave though, and the kids, mercifully, practically ignore Eddie. Lucas says ‘hi’, and Eddie answers, which Steve takes as a massive win.

One of the kids drops something in the sink; it clatters loudly, Eddie sitting up straight, whole body on high alert and turned towards the doorway, one arm flung back protectively over Steve's chest.

“It’s alright buddy, don’t worry. It’s just the kids. They’re noisy sometimes,” Eddie does lower himself again at that, and when he finally looks at Steve, Steve offers his hand. Eddie takes it. The webbing stops their fingers linking together all the way, but the contact has the desired effect and seems to reassure Eddie that there’s no danger, and he’s more relaxed by the time all the kids come back in.

They start the next movie, Eddie nestled right up against Steve, their joined hands resting on his thigh.

Part Nine