#oh lawd he buried someone

[sassenach77yle]

Here, Dr. Randall.” Joe leaned over and carefully placed the skull in my hands. “Tell me whether this lady was in good health, while I check her legs.” “Me? I’m not a forensic scientist.” Still, I glanced automatically down. It was either an old specimen, or had been weathered extensively; the bone was smooth, with a gloss that fresh specimens never had, stained and discolored by the leaching of pigments from the earth. “Oh, all right.” I turned the skull slowly in my hands, watching the bones, naming them each in my mind as I saw them. The smooth arch of the parietals, fused to the declivity of the temporal, with the small ridge where the jaw muscle originated, the jutting projection that meshed itself with the maxillary into the graceful curve of the squamosal arch. She had had lovely cheekbones, high and broad. The upper jaw had most of its teeth—straight and white. Deep eyes. The scooped bone at the back of the orbits was dark with shadow; even by tilting the skull to the side, I couldn’t get light to illuminate the whole cavity. The skull felt light in my hands, the bone fragile. I stroked her brow and my hand ran upward, and down behind the occiput, my fingers seeking the dark hole at the base, the foremen magnum, where all the messages of the nervous system pass to and from the busy brain. Then I held it close against my stomach, eyes closed, and felt the shifting sadness, filling the cavity of the skull like running water. And an odd faint sense—of surprise?

“Someone killed her,” I said. “She didn’t want to die.”

I opened my eyes to find Horace Thompson staring at me, his own eyes wide in his round, pale face. I handed him the skull, very gingerly. “Where did you find her?” I asked. Mr. Thompson exchanged glances with Joe, then looked back at me, both eyebrows still high.

“She’s from a cave in the Caribbean,” he said. “There were a lot of artifacts with her. We think she’s maybe between a hundred-fifty and two hundred years old.”

“She’s what?” Joe was grinning broadly, enjoying his joke. “Our friend Mr. Thompson here is from the anthropology department at Harvard,” he said. “His friend Wicklow knows me; asked me would I have a look at this skeleton, to tell them what I could about it.” “The nerve of you!” I said indignantly. “I thought she was some unidentified body the coroner’s office dragged in.” “Well, she’s unidentified,” Joe pointed out. “And certainly liable to stay that way.”[...]

“Oh, de headbone connected to de…neckbone,” Joe sang softly, laying out the vertebrae along the edge of the desk. His stubby fingers darted skillfully among the bones, nudging them into alignment. “De neckbone connected to de…backbone…” “Don’t pay any attention to him,” I told Horace. “You’ll just encourage him.” “Now hear…de word…of de Lawd!” he finished triumphantly. “Jesus Christ, L. J., you’re somethin’ else! Look here.” Horace Thompson and I bent obediently over the line of spiky vertebral bones. The wide body of the axis had a deep gouge; the posterior zygapophysis had broken clean off, and the fracture plane went completely through the centrum of the bone. “A broken neck?” Thompson asked, peering interestedly. “Yeah, but more than that, I think.” Joe’s finger moved over the line of the fracture plane.

“See here? The bone’s not just cracked, it’s gone right there. Somebody tried to cut this lady’s head clean off. With a dull blade,” he concluded with relish.

Horace Thompson was looking at me queerly. “How did you know she’d been killed, Dr. Randall?” he asked. I could feel the blood rising in my face. “I don’t know,” I said. “I—she—felt like it, that’s all.” “Really?” He blinked a few times, but didn’t press me further. “How odd.” “She does it all the time,” Joe informed him, squinting at the femur he was measuring with a pair of calipers. “Mostly on live people, though. Best diagnostician I ever saw.” He set down the calipers and picked up a small plastic ruler. “A cave, you said?” “We think it was a…er, secret slave burial,” Mr. Thompson explained, blushing, and I suddenly realized why he had seemed so abashed when he realized which of us was the Dr. Abernathy he had been sent to see. Joe shot him a sudden sharp glance, but then bent back to his work. He kept humming “Dem Dry Bones” faintly to himself as he measured the pelvic inlet, then went back to the legs, this time concentrating on the tibia. Finally he straightened up, shaking his head. “Not a slave,” he said. Horace blinked. “But she must have been,” he said. “The things we found with her…a clear African influence…” “No,” Joe said flatly. He tapped the long femur, where it rested on his desk. His fingernail clicked on the dry bone. “She wasn’t black.” “You can tell that? From bones?” Horace Thompson was visibly agitated. “But I thought—that paper by Jensen, I mean—theories about racial physical differences—largely exploded—” He blushed scarlet, unable to finish. “Oh, they’re there,” said Joe, very dryly indeed. “If you want to think blacks and whites are equal under the skin, be my guest, but it ain’t scientifically so.” He turned and pulled a book from the shelf behind him. Tables of Skeletal Variance, the title read. “Take a look at this,” Joe invited. “You can see the differences in a lot of bones, but especially in the leg bones. Blacks have a completely different femur-to-tibia ratio than whites do. And that lady”—he pointed to the skeleton on his desk—“was white. Caucasian. No question about it.”

Cap 20 diagnosis ~VOYAGER

[tomurasmoleunderhislip]

-Tomura with gender fluid s/o that's around same height and weight as him-

I just had to write this since I'm around his height and I never saw someone write something like this so 😭😭😭

For those that don't know what gender fluid is: Let’s define a few terms. Cisgender means a person’s gender identity matches the sex — female or male — designated on their original birth certificate. Gender fluidity refers to change over time in a person’s gender expression or gender identity, or both. That change might be in expression, but not identity, or in identity, but not expression. Or both expression and identity might change together.

Trigger warning: opinion 💋

I just know that hugs and cuddles would be absolutely perfect literally. Not having to break our necks to look down or up at eachother lol, or go on our tip toes to kiss/hug.

I find it really adorable and comforting, and he would too probably.

And since I'm gender fluid it I feel like it would be like he hit a jackpot or something, I'm picturing him as demi-bisexual. Ain't no way he's straight (-my best friend), I can imagine he rarely falls in love, and when he would feel romantic towards someone he would need to have an emotional connection with someone before he feels romantic towards them. And he wouldn't care about his s/o's gender, he just wants to love someone and someone to love him back. (Don't attack me for having my opinion I'm not in mood for arguing so go and argue with wall 💀💀💀)

But it would be so funny, his confused reactions than realizing what I am and goes like ohhh yeah right oh shit, one week I'd be coming dressed and act feminine than out of nowhere other week (poof) I appear looking like homeless dude and acting masc 🤡🤡🤡.

Oh also he would definitely borrow my baggy dark clothes. I need to draw him in them one day literally. He'd look so fine in that one slipknot t-shirt I got omfg it would be fit him perfectly 🛐.

He'd steal them either put him on his pillow hugging it, or wearing them as he goes to sleep. But of course he'd give them back later.

So like, borrowing eachothers clothes is 100%. He would borrow you his cool coats definitely, either throw it at your face jokingly or put it around your shoulders like gentleman when you are cold, depending on his mood.

Not to mention since we're around same height and weight, I would be picking him up for sure while hugging him, it would be so hilarious and cute. Imagine hugging him, wrapping hands around his lower back than just pulling him up and spinning him a little. He would be so embarrassed and so red but still laugh later 💀💀💀. I would love holding him or when he would hold me lawd 💳💥💳💥💳💥💳....

Or him sitting on my lap or again other way around. Sounds like heaven, what the fuck an I saying, better than heaven actually 😩😩😩. And burying our faces into sides of eachothers necks or shoulders while wrapping arms around eachothers torsos.

So picking up and holding is 100% 😔.

Hope I zon't zet azzacked for zis 😻

Bay bay I'm going back to my bat cave now 💋💋💋

I bet this will get ignored

[grizzlie70]

Isaac vs the Master SOW

we are still way behind! but we will catch up! XD @summer-of-whump and this is a collab with @sapphirechao

This takes place before day 2

day 6-buried/labor

tw: escape, buried, cave collapse, dessert, mention past containment, implied human trafficking, implied death, buried alive

The moon hung high over the clear night sky. Isaac had been walking for hours looking for the next safe place to make camp and rest once morning came. He knew there was no escaping the desert heat, the past experience haunting the back of his mind and lingering like a waking nightmare. How many times was he going to suffer through a wasteland of sun, sand, and death? Chased by a maniac who found a sick enjoyment in his agony, taking away what little freedoms he had and treating him as less than human. It was chilling how similar the Master was to his past enemies. How similar he was to Her. 

Isaac shook away the grim thoughts. Fear clouded his mind, made his hands feel heavy and slow. Fear led to despair, and when he spiraled into that pit it was... a fight to claw his way back out.

Isaac's thoughts were interrupted when he saw smoke coming from a distance. A few miles away, maybe another hour’s worth of walking. He stopped, debating on the possibility of there being others like him. On the run, hiding in this wretched desert… but what if they were like the bastards who imprisoned him? It was too risky. Dread seeped into his chest, squeezing the air from his lung. That dread quickly turned into panic when he could finally make out the source of the smoke. A raging bonfire just over the horizon, with silhouettes of four, no, five people dancing around it. He could hear whooping cheers and singing in the distance, which should have put him more at ease… had he not also seen the shadows of tall empty cages sitting beside the fire as well.

The man kept his head down and quickened his pace, maybe if he was quick they wouldn’t see him from this distance. His eyes drop to the ground, watching the sand sway and shift underneath his feet. When he looks back up at the campfire, he notices that the figures have stopped dancing. Were there suddenly more of them now? His eyes darted across the horizon, making a head count.

Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight. Where were they all coming from!?

He felt frozen, watching the crowd gather in the distance. More and more shadowy people were crawling into view like black serpents slithering across the sands. Then, they suddenly started running… towards HIM!

Isaac gasped sharply and quickly started running in the opposite direction. Panic flooding his mind and adrenaline pumping through his veins. His feet practically sank into the sand with each step, until his entire leg was suddenly engulfed and he stumbled forward. Isaac fell head first off the dune, tumbling and falling before crashing to the bottom. He spat out mouthfuls of sand, shaking the excess from his hair and clothes as he frantically kept running and praying to find a safe shelter to hide in. 

The figures were all yelling, no cheering as they ran towards Isaac. "First one to nab them gets bragging rights. "One said. The others cheered. "Oh no! I wanna get first picking with the breeding subjects!" Some of them argued as they chased after Isaac, who is fractionally trying to keep his distance. He prayed and prayed, hoping there could be a place for him to hide. Anything. 

As if his Lord heard him, a cave could be seen in the distance, a place to hide or lose them, and without a second thought he dashed forward towards the cave. The sounds of their cheering got closer, and Isaac can feel his tears running down his face- he can't get caught, not when he feels so close. He promised them he'd get help, that they'll be free once he made it to Goodlands, he just has to make it to the cave.

“Hey if you give up now, we’ll go easy on you!” One of them, a deeper voiced man, yelled at Isaac.

Another one laughed. “Yeah! Come on, we don’t bite”, he added. The hunters all began mocking and laughing at Isaac, who felt fear creep into his stomach but kept going, the cave getting closer and closer till he finally made it inside, looking for somewhere to hide, a rock or maybe a ditch. The cave was dark and very dangerous, like it could collapse at any moment. He frantically surveys the area and finds a crack in the cave wall he can squeeze inside. The crack is wedged between is too small for someone healthy to fit into, Isaac tries to hold back a groan. If those bastards hadn't starved me, I probably wouldn't fit inside. He hears their footsteps. "Aww, look he trapped himself for us." The deeper voice spoke, one of the hunters pointed out the ceiling that looked ready to cave in. "Shit, better find them soon." He whispers, the group slowly enter the cavern looking for Isaac, who was hidden inside the crack, he squeezes himself more in the back as they walk right by him. 

Isaac wanted to breathe a sigh of relief but he should wait till he's out of here but a thought came to him as he crawled out of the crack. These people are not only after him but others too. Others who probably have lives, a family, people who are free and unaware of the horrors this desert holds and they'll take them, take them to a life that will strip them of everything they know and love. I can't let that happen. If I leave then they'll just go after another innocent life and another and even more. He looks back into the cave. How? What can I do?! There's eight of them and one of me and I barely have enough energy to fight them all by myself. Isaac lets out a slow, shaky breath before an idea pops in as he looks up at the cave’s roof. Isaac has been sparing energy, if he can just charge his powers, he can make the cave collapse on them. Isaac walks out the cave taking a deep breath, his hands slowly emit electricity. I won’t let them down, I won’t let people suffer a fate like this. Isaac shoots at the cave, lightning strikes the rocks as the cave slowly crumples, rocks fall down and the sounds of yelling can be heard inside until the the entrance was fully cover with rocks and there was silence.

Isaac, breathing heavily, walks away feeling victorious. Hopefully, they didn’t take any lives.  

[shakethatsassyass]

Sleeping with GOM Headcanons

So I accidentally deleted this request... which was sent in by someone who was off-anon. I can’t remember the un for the life of me but I hope you see this

SFW. Kuroko, Kise, Midorima, Aomine, Murasakibara, Akashi

Hello!! I was just wondering if you could maybe do some Hcs for GOM and what it would be like sleeping next to them??

KUROKO

He sleeps like a dead man. Kuroko literally doesn’t move. 

He keeps the room at a freezing temperature too you would die if you only had a thin blanket to cover you

So Kuroko sleeps with layers. Even during summer he must be in layers of clothing and blankets.

How his indoor plant is still alive is a mystery

Kuroko doesn’t mind cuddling orb either the little or big spoon but it is quite hard to get away from his grasp once he’s asleep

He sleeps through anything… earthquakes, construction work, Nigou jumping him, you leaving his side cause you were going to get frostbite if you didn’t move to the living room… 

His bed is REALLY SOFT too. There’s a topper on his mattress and another comforter on top of it. It feels like a cloud

He is obsessed with scented candles and has a nice collection of the jars inside his closet. 

KISE

Kise talks in his sleep.

Kise’s room is surprisingly huge. He as a walk-in closet with sponsored clothes and a vanity with different skincare products. His bathroom also has a tub.

He also has a small fridge in his room where he keeps some wine, drinks, and some skincare products like sheet masks.

He takes his evening skincare routine seriously and encourages you to do it with him. You oblige, knowing there’s so many products to choose from!

Every day is spa day with this model and it’s just your form of self-care and bonding time with one another.

He’s big on cuddling and always insists on spooning your or being spooned to sleep. You oblige of course, he’s always so vocal when you don’t and when you do… he just says the dirtiest things. *parental guidance* just moaning into your ear and rubbing circles on your back oh lawd…

Kise also likes watching shows with you before going to bed so you almost always fall asleep mid-episode with the television on……

He’s A HEAVY SLEEPER and Kise TALKS IN HIS SLEEP. Like the first time you slept together, he was just talking normally and you were responding only to realize he was fast asleep and his responses were not making any sense!!!

He doesn’t remember whatever he says or what you say in the next morning, though.

The only downside with sleeping with Kise is that he’s kind of A BITCH in the morning…. Before he gets his caffeine… like just kind of rude sometimes LMAO

MIDORIMA

Midorima is very particular about his bed. He has rules.

No outside clothes. If you were just outdoors you aren’t even allowed to touch the bed let alone sit on it.

He has a humidifier on his bedside because his nose and skin gets really dry

His bed and closet is also full of stuffed toys of different sizes that he previously bought as lucky items and kept just in case he needed them again. 

Midorima also is very strict about the pajamas he wears. They have to be matchy all the time. Even if they seem mismatched, trust me, he has specific pieces coordinated together and folded as one in his wardrobe.

He smells really really good, too. Like just clean soap smell… or like a baby… Mmmm Shin-chan…

Midorima is a really warm person so his scent just radiates your senses whenever you sleep next to him. 

He’s a quiet sleeper. He’s still quite reserved when it comes to cuddling but when he’s extra sleepy, tired, or even buzzed… he’ll initiate skinship with you

Having this 6’5” man’s warm skin against yours is an experience like no other. He’s strictly the big spoon though. Over his dead body would he let you see his flushed face. besides… that way he can bury his head on your hair to smell you lmao

Bonus because you get to see Midorima without glasses and admire those oH SO LONG LASHES of his…. ykwita

AOMINE

Surprisingly the best one to sleep with

You’ve been caught by Momoi sleeping in the university rooftop more than a couple of times…..

And you didn’t even mean to fall asleep… it’s just that it was after lunch… and it’s Aomine… soo….

Aomine can literally sleep anywhere anytime and if you’ve shard a bed with anyone YOU KNOW THIS TYPE OF PERSON IS THE BEST TO SLEEP WITH

Aomine’s room is likee a typical bachelor pad.

But it’s quite neat due to two reasons:

1) Aomine’s a perfectionist. Idk if it’s been acknowledged in KNB but he always seemed like someone who liked to keep things in order. He knows when something is out of place (like that magazine is 3 inches farther to the left than when I last left it…)

Maybe because Aomine’s a Virgo sun, too.

2) Momoi, though she very rarely has to, she helps clean up Aomine’s place when she comes over.

You can toss and turn all you want in bed and Aomine will still be in deep slumber

You can jump on the bed and sing karaoke at full volume beside him and he’d be snoring

Aomine also gets cold pretty quickly, used to being outdoors all the time so he’s always drawn to your warm body

But there is one thing that can wake him up…

He subconsciously knows when you’ve left his side.

He’s always finding a way to hold you one way or another at night… like he has this sixth sense that just knows where you are in bed and magic spatial vision of how he can pull you close against him

MURASAKIBARA

He has a custom-made bed (the rest of his family barely fits in their mass-produced ones) and it’s full of so many pillows you wonder how you both could possibly fit in it

He also has a fridge in his room.

Snacks closet, snacks under the bed, snacks in all his bags… movie nights are the best because it’s like a mini grocery there

Murasakibara sleeps really early too. He’s knocked out by 10pm and is an early riser. 

He’s a gentle sleeper. Doesn’t snore and turns in his sleep minimally so you don’t have to worry about being crushed

His limbs ARE PRETTY HEAVY when he accidentally hits you at night but his skin is so warm too so it’s welcomed during winter

Buuuut he does love being the little spoon (don’t ask me how) and prefers sleeping with you that way

You don’t even need a blanket… Murasakibara just engulfs your body so completely that it’s more than enough

He’s THE BEST HUGGER. I don’t make the rules.

Also he has the softest skin oUT OF EVERYONE, Mura’s limbs are so long and so soft it’s comforting.

AKASHI

Akashi smells IMMACULATE. He spares no expense when it comes to hygiene and has a great selection of body gels and creams.

His room and sheets always smell like fresh laundry and are replaced bi-weekly.

As for sleep… your sleep is 100% elite class thanks to all the goose feathers and amazing fragrances…but only if you’re comfortable with a certain someone sneaking his way into your duvet in the wee hours of the night… giving you a forehead kiss before lying on the pillow next to yours

Akashi does his best to maintain a balanced sleeping schedule but with so much responsibility, he’s grateful if he even has time to chat with you before getting up in the morning

It’s really the small things that matter most to you and Akashi

Akashi sometimes snores… when he’s extra tired. He doesn’t know this and you have no plans of telling him. It’s your little secret.

As for Akashi’s sleeping habits, he’s kind of a light sleeper so he sometimes sleeps with earplugs just so he wouldn’t wake up at random times.

He’s also a great cuddler but somehow his toes and fingers are always so damn cold you shudder when he makes contact with your skin. You always hold his hands as a result so even if you’re sleeping on your respective parts of the bed… he still searches for your hand under the covers…

He’s knocked out on Fridays, exhausted from work so staying in bed during weekends is just priceless

[propshophannah]

What didn't you like about ACOSF? Any critiques?

It’s not that I didn’t like anything. It’s more that I wanted more? So like…

Nesta letting Feyre into her mind to see a good memory Nesta has of her with their mother so Feyre can paint it and it can go on the wall.

Someone saying that it was also the dad’s responsibility to provide for them not Feyre’s or Nesta’s or Elain’s.

Someone being like “This is why you shouldn’t mix business and family” because LAWD half their issues were because they didn’t have clearly established boundaries between court business and family business. (but also it drove the plot so I’m not that mad haha!)

I WISH Cassian had jumped in the bed to wake Nesta during the nightmare scene, or had like grabbed her hand or SOMETHING. Maas is so good at not giving us enough in those moments (same in the fainting scene, I wanted just a little TINY bit more angsty/romantic touching.)

ummmm…

I don’t know what else. I feel like I got everything I wanted. LOL. I’ve only read it once so maybe I’ll change my mind.

OH! I think I would have enjoyed a scene where Nesta tells Cassian about what happened with Tomas. Not that she has to or anything, I’m just kind of trash for that kind of communication. And then he could, like, validate her feelings and thank her for sharing that with him and that kind of stuff. Like real safe space kinda shit.

OH and last, I was sort of hoping Nesta might use the Death Mask to locate where Cassian’s mom is buried/rests. Just to be able to bring her body home and to give Cassian that peace. Like him knowing he found her and got to finally take her away from that awful place even though it was too late. I would have really liked how complex and emotional something like that would be for Cassian. And Nesta, knowing she was able to give him that closure.

I’m really just here for the angst. LOL. Gimme gut wrenching angsty shit all day.

[youngbloodbuzz]

“So, there’s no one special then?” Dani said, a finger picking at a hangnail. “In your life?”

🥲🥲🥲🥲🥲

Eyes dark under seedy bar lights, pressed against a faceless woman in a secluded corner. Lips dragging across a pale throat, a hand inching up a thigh towards less than appropriate places, the other burying and pulling at long blonde hair. 

Hm. Another faceless figure. WONDER WHO THAT COULD BE DANI.

For one dizzying moment, Dani imagined lifting that hand and slipping it beneath the green woolen blanket, sliding it under her dress to place against the soft skin of her inner thighs, just to see her forearm work and feel the press of her calloused hands against heated, soft skin. Pressing her hand higher still, dragging it until it was where Dani never would have imagined needing it most, just to see what Jamie would do. 

Our figures have faces! What do ya know 🤠

She pressed her eyes shut, welcoming the sting, letting it shunt her back to earth to convince herself it was just the alcohol and the dark. That’s all it was. This wasn’t her. It couldn’t be. She was engaged. She was going to marry Eddie, her oldest friend who had never been anything but loving and kind, even through his faults and imperfections.

💔💔💔 once again just want to hug her

“No,” Jamie murmured, a small curl to her mouth, “He’s a good kid. Quiet and smart. Don’t know where he gets it from really.”

“I do,” Dani said, staring directly at Jamie’s profile. The crinkle of her eyes, the slant of her charmed smile. 

I’m sobbing 😭

Jamie who waited with a look of quiet affection until she stumbled through the front door before driving away.

Jamie is so dreamy 😭

She unlocked her car and peeled off Jamie’s jacket, smothering the urge to press the collar against her nose with a hard bite to her lip and folded it neatly before resting it on the passenger seat for the next time she saw Jamie.

A yearny, piney pine tree.

But when she turned around, her eyes landed on the piles of boxes in the corner and subsequently, the old dirty paperback that she had carelessly tossed aside a week ago. 

Oh lawd.

She tried to forget. For the rest of the week, she tried. But it still lingered there in the back of her mind as she went about her days… Jamie. Always Jamie. And that stupid book. 

Me but that stupid book is this (brilliant) fic.

Jamie on her knees, looking up at her with a smirk and that dangerous glint in her darkened eyes, pliant and eager as Dani, raking a hand through her curls and gripping tight. Jamie moaning as Dani arched her head back by the hair, exposing the long lines of her neck. Jamie’s hands dragging up her legs, her thumbs skimming the soft skin of her inner thighs as Dani pulled her closer and closer to wet heat. 

I may need to borrow Dani’s inhaler at this stage.

Just a futile desire to be rid of the feeling, the scattered remains of her sinking down the drain

🤧🤧🤧 I just want her to be happy.

Dani had been here before. A familiar haunting that came and went through the years. A ghost that shadowed her dreams, unbidden and anticipated in equal measure.

I HATE YOU BOTH. DONT EVEN LOOK AT ME I AM NOT OKAY.

Her eyes skimmed over shoulders and a lean back that was shrouded in shadow, and for the first time in years knew exactly who she desired this person to be. 

Yes Dani 🥺❤️

She pulled the hair hard enough to hurt. “Look at me,” she breathed, insistent and urgent as the coil grew tighter. “Jamie, look at me. ”

😭😭😭😭😭😭

She chased after the memory of the dream, swiftly fading, conjuring up the stroke of a tongue and the curl of fingers

I am not okay !

It was a terrifyingly bad decision, grinding down against Eddie while thinking of someone else. Tremendously wrong to buck her hips, panting into the hollow of his throat, while thinking of Jamie. But her thighs were slick and trembling, and there was a thrill spooling tight as a spring at the base of her spine, and she was close — she was so close —

Man there’s no coming back from this… no pun intended 😭

“Well," said Dani, and she held out a hand to indicate Jamie's height. "If the shoe fits -"

"Finish that sentence. I dare you." Jamie tried to point a threatening finger at her, but the rubber gloves didn't have individual articulated fingers so it just looked like she was waving her hand through the air.

I love their banter so much.

"The bleachers?" Dani said, crinkling her nose. "Really?"

Someone sounds a lil jealous.

Dani started. She felt flushed and flustered. "Oh, uh -" she stammered.

Gay panic™️

When she tried to hand the half-finished bottle back to her, Dani held up her hands. “Oh, no. It’s all yours.” 

This is Dani’s version of Jamie stubbing out the cigarette after it touches Jamie’s lips….

“Well,” Jamie eyed the length of Dani’s skirt or rather lack thereof, “Can’t complain.”

Jamie ma’am you are going to make Dani COMBUST on the spot if you carry on.

“To the third floor art room?” Dani blurted out incredulously.

Dani I cannot deal with you right now 🤣🤣🤣

"No," Dani said softly. "You were a wonderful kid. I was just - I was only teasing."

THEY ARE SO SOFT I WANT TO SCREAAAAAM.

“Good night?” Jamie asked, grinning and pointing at his neck with the now empty water bottle.

I perish. 🥲 Dani is mortified. I’m mortified.

She ignored the way Jamie was watching them. She didn’t want to look at her, didn’t want to see the expression on Jamie’s face, didn’t want to know what she was thinking. 

:(

Such a good chapter!!! Think I’ll wait a bit to re-read chapter 9 so it’s (potentially) a lil closer to whenever the update is! I’m so excited! 🤠

(part 4 of re-read)

all of this plus dani after this whole chapter of horny yearning

gsahsgjd gOD these are fun thank you again! i'm dying and we're all dying for dani

@romanimp

[willow-salix]

Oh lawd, she's been drinking with Grandma again... Here's a snippet, you can read the rest here...

Alan said you we-” John stopped dead in the doorway of the library which had become wedding central, his eyes quickly scanning the scene before him. Was it too late to run away? Had she heard him?

Her head snapped up, her face scrunching up as she spotted him. He held his breath, surely it couldn't be that bad…

The noise she made was somewhere between a cat with its tail stuck in a door and a banshee that just stubbed its toe, her wail rattled the windows and almost shattered his ear drums.

She was partially buried in a nest of fabric scraps and pictures ripped out of some very outdated looking magazines, an empty bottle of wine was halfway across the room and another - thankfully still half full - was lying nearby.

She was looking at him, her eyes wide and full of tears that had yet to escape, her damp cheeks showing that this definitely wasn’t the first time tonight. Her arms were outstretched like a monster from one of those stupid horror movies she liked to watch with Scott, her hair hanging down around her face like she had just crawled out of a pit and she was reaching for him.

He wasn’t a religious man but he had the sudden urge to cross himself. Selene was drunk, and a drunk Selene could go one of two ways. She was either the happiest - and horniest - person on the planet, telling everyone how much she loved them, singing, dancing, laughing and loving life before trying to seduce him anywhere and anyway she could, or she was a devastated mess. Yep, Selene in sad drunk mode was the stuff of nightmares.

He’d only seen her this way once before and he’d hoped to never suffer it again. When Alan had told him that Selene had weaved her way to the kitchen and retreated again with another bottle he’d hoped it was a giggly, snuggly time. It seemed that today was not that day. As soon as he'd realised it was wine she'd taken, not cider or beer his hopes had come crashing down around him. Give her a cocktail or give her a cider and she was fine. Give her beer which she didn't even like and she'd drink a few sips and give it to someone else, but give her wine and you were in for a world of trouble.

Come on, you’re a Tracy, he scolded himself, trying to stop his feet from carrying him backwards to safety. You can do this, that’s your woman there and she needs you, even if she does look like a demonic mess.

“Why do you hate me?” she screamed, snatching up handfuls of fabric, first to throw in his general direction and then to shove her face into as she collapsed forward in a sobbing heap.

[ultravioletsoul]

Virgo Shaka x Reader - N/S/F/W Alphabet

Oh dear lawd, I’ve always found it a little (ok, terribly) difficult to imagine Shaka of all people in a romantic relationship. Out of the twelve gold saints, he’s probably the least likely to be in one. It was already too much effort for my brain to picture him holding hands with anyone, let alone expressing any interest in doing the do, but here I am… writing an adult post about him. 

I need to clarify that these headcanons are about Shaka post the Twelve Houses story arc. Honestly, he would have zero interest in anyone before that since he was a little of an arrogant and vain jerk or, if he did, he would be too proud to admit it because how can a god-like figure like him feel that way?? Ludicrous!

Anyways, yes, after the fight with Ikki (what an absolute mad lad that guy is, bless him), Shaka would be more open to the idea of a romantic relationship but I still feel it’d happen under some special circumstances. And he’s going to be a peculiar boyfriend.

This is a very belated birthday gift for an amazing friend because she loves Shaka, ever since I dragged her into Saint Seiya hell ♥♥. Forgive me if it’s terrible *le cri* 

Warnings: Sexual content. Possible OoC. Unbetaed. I have no idea how this happened. 

                                                             *  *  *

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex): 

Despite his serene appearance, how collected he acts around others, and the way he carefully reins in his emotions to the point he may come off as cold and detached, Shaka can be surprisingly caring and soft with you after an intimate session between the sheets.

Considering he would only do it with someone he deeply cares about and that it’s not a decision he’d take lightly (people just assumed he was asexual until they learned about you and then were confused as heck), you have to mean a lot to him.

So of course he wants to share the warm afterglow of lovemaking with you, lying together in complete bliss.

He may not be very talkative afterwards, but don’t take it as a sign he is troubled or displeased about something. Your most recent experience is still sinking in his mind and he’s not used to feeling so many strong emotions at once.

Little actions such as playing with your hair, kissing your forehead, letting you snuggle against him, or draping a protective arm around you to bring you closer, are ways in which he would show his affection.

He’d also like to make sure you’re both clean and refreshed before a good night’s rest so don’t be upset if he scoops you up in his arms and takes you straight for a warm bath. 

Just let him pamper you while he’s in the mood for some touching and cuddling ;)

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s):

Not actually a favorite part of his body, but he likes it when you gently run your fingers or place feathery kisses across his abdomen. If you tease him and “innocently” draw closer to his cock, he’s going to have hard time resisting you (no pun intended :v) and may turn the tables on you.

Shaka loves everything about you but his favorite part of your body would be your eyes because of the beauty of soul he sees in them. 

As a saint who fights to for Athena and justice, he knows there is evil in this world but you are a lotus flower growing in the mud. And it’s because of people like you why the goddess he serves believes humanity is worth saving.

He can easily get lost in them when he’s making love. It’s one of the few times he wouldn’t want to close his eyes and he would gently encourage you not to break eye contact either. He loves gazing into the depths of your soul as you both reach new heights of pleasure in each other’s arms.

Nothing but that moment with you matters to him. When you’re two alone in that room, you’re the only deity he worships in mind, body and soul.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically):

Sorry to break it to you guys, but Shaka wouldn’t do cum play or anything of the like.

He’d actually be weirded out if you even suggested the idea to him, and he wouldn’t understand what’s so attractive or exciting about it.

He’s a guy who has always been meticulous and methodical in everything he does given the teachings he’s received from his mentor (the Buddha :o). As someone who has engaged in lots of meditation to clear his mind from fears and doubts, personal hygiene and cleanliness are important to him, so he would prefer to keep the mess to a minimum if possible. So no, he isn’t in a hurry to see you doing stuff with his semen.

Shaka likes coming inside you. It’s the only place he ever wants to be when he makes love to you.

It’s a wonderful, intimate moment and he would hold you tightly against him as your souls mesh together into a single being.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs):

It has never interested him before but, after starting a relationship with you, out of curiosity, he might have read some texts on the subject of erotic love. It was for science, tho!

Now now, of course he isn’t oblivious to the intimate affairs of couples, and nobody has to explain to him how babies are made. You can rest assured Shaka knows perfectly well how sex works. 

He wants to be a better partner for you but, for all his knowledge and wisdom, he’s aware he’s not exactly the most versed man in such matters. 

Despite this, Shaka adamantly refuses to ask anyone for advice, so you bet he’s gonna do the research on his own. He can figure this out.

Shaka would keep it classy, however. Nothing pornographic or vulgar is acceptable. That’s not how he wants to treat you.

Shaka’s approach is purely analytical and educational, and he reads it all with a straight face. The others would never guess what he’s actually up to.

It’s a serious matter for him. He wants to make sure he’s got what it takes to make you happy not only on a physical but emotional level as well.

In the past, the thought of sex wouldn’t have even fazed him. Shaka cared very little about it and honestly he didn’t see what the appeal was.

He still doesn’t much care but when it comes to you, he’s not against the idea. 

Fine, he digs it.

But he’s a little embarrassed to admit it.

As someone who has trained to let go of his attachment for sensual pleasures and desires, it baffled him a little that the thought even crossed his mind.

That hasn’t stopped his curiosity for learning more about how to please you.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?):

Shaka is a virgin. Don’t @ me. 

That’s the real source of his power. Geddit? *fingers guns*

On a more serious note, it is no surprise that he’s not very experienced.

It’s not that he thinks sex is something dirty or bad per se. He just never had the time or any interest in the pursuit of such trivialities. Lust and sexual craving are not traps he would fall prey to. He devotes himself completely to his duty as a saint of Athena, and so he avoids distractions that would hinder the fulfillment of his mission.

You’d most likely get to be the first sexual experience he’s ever had and it’s no simple feat to seduce the man who’s closest to being a god. He believed himself to be above such worldly affairs until he met you and boy…

He was wrong once again.

Finding ecstasy in your arms is nothing short of divine.

Shaka would take his time to be intimate with you, though. He doesn’t do casual sex and needs to be absolutely certain of your feelings for each other first.

However, don’t let his virginal status fool you. He has made his research beforehand (see letter D), he has prepared and knows where to go.

If he doesn’t get it right the first time he’ll try again and again until he has you writhing in pleasure. His own satisfaction is secondary to yours.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying):

Lotus. I’m sorry for being so cliché OMG.

Pic (NSFW)

He spends a lot of time in this position when he meditates, so don’t be surprised if at some point he wants you to sit on his crossed legs and ride him.

Shaka would enjoy the intimacy and closeness this position provides. 

It’s not a position that allows for frenzied love-making, but that’s precisely why he likes it so much.

Buried deep inside your wet core, he can feel your heart beating against his chest in unison with his as he holds you in his protective embrace, and there’s nowhere else he would rather be.

He loves it when you shower small kisses on his face and happily surrender yourself to him.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.): 

The first times, Shaka would wear a serious expression because he’s concentrating on learning what you like, what makes you tick and curl your toes.

He’s studying you not just on a physical level. Intimacy is beyond simple carnal pleasure for Shaka. It’s a matter of spiritual connection.

He’ll get more playful and cocky (no pun intended) once he learns how to push your buttons.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.):

He doesn’t have a lot of body hair and always keeps his face clean, shaven and moisturized.

His nails are well trimmed. His hair nicely brushed and scented. His body devoid of bad smells. 

That being said, he’s not very hairy downstairs (he’s got mostly a patch of soft blond hair), but he keeps things well groomed. Shaka doesn’t like sloppiness.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect):

It’s gentle lovemaking with Shaka and nothing less.

However, he can get too caught up in the details and in delivering a good performance that it may be a little difficult for him to really get lost in the moment.

He’s too worried about being perfect and bringing you pleasure that he sometimes forgets about the most romantic aspects.

Reassuring him he’s doing a good job will put his mind at ease. Be appreciative of his efforts and give him your undivided attention.

He’ll be the most doting lover ever because sharing his bed and body with you are very special to him.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon):

Shaka has an unbelievable control over his sexual urges and, even if he’s in a relationship with you, that wouldn’t change a lot.

He doesn’t usually masturbate, even when he’s been deprived of your touch for long periods of time (which would be when he’s away on missions for the Sanctuary). He can handle it no problem.

That doesn’t mean you’re not on his mind. Shaka always thinks about you with the deepest love and respect.

Masturbating can never compare to the bliss he feels when you’re in his arms. It’s just empty pleasure and would leave him even more frustrated, aching for you.

He would rather show you how much he loves you and missed you the next time he gets to see you.

Mutual masturbation is something he wouldn’t mind doing, if given the chance.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks):

In all honesty, Shaka is not overly kinky and he’s perfectly content with vanilla sex.

However, he lowkey enjoys being dominated so if you flip him on his back and mount him, he’ll find it a nice game changer.

Ride that boy, seriously. He gets off on being a bottom and the sight of you enjoying yourself so much would drive him to the edge.

Tease him all you want, deny him release or keep him from touching you, he’ll endure it like a good boy.

But if you think you can run the show for too long, get ready because Shaka will get his due.

You’ll have to learn you can’t play dirty and expect him to show you mercy.

Bad girls like you deserve divine punishment  ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

L = Location (favorite places to do the do):

He’s a bit old-fashioned, so he prefers the privacy and quiet of his own bedroom. Discretion is Shaka’s middle name.

It’s very practical and convenient too.

There’s no better place than his bed: clean, fresh, comfortable and quiet. He can relax and get in the mood without worrying about anything else.

He also won’t mind doing it on the floor, provided it’s pristine and there’s a plush mat with lots of cushions on it.

If he’s in your place, your bed and environment have to be clean and neat or else he’s not going to feel up for any sexy times.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going):

As someone who spends a lot of time inside his head, he needs a stimulating conversation to get him going.

It doesn’t even have to be sexual. You could ask him about his life as a saint or engage him in some philosophical talk. He’ll be happy to share his knowledge with you and will be interested in what you have to say.

Stroke his ego a little but don’t make it obvious.

On the other hand, witty banter turns him on, too. He’s got a sharp sense of humor but if you can turn around his jokes and roast him, leaving him speechless, he’ll want to get even through other means.

And you can imagine how  ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)  ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Shaka loves foreplay. The more foreplay you have, the more aroused he’ll be. He can spend hours just kissing, cuddling and touching.

A nice bath with him can also get him in the mood. He’ll feel more comfortable if you’re both clean and fresh. It doesn’t matter if you’re about to get dirty again.

If during foreplay or sex you whisper sweet nothings in his ear and praise him, that’s a sure way to turn him on. Praise that boy if he’s doing an amazing job, he’ll try to do it even better.

On the other hand, don’t be shy to tell him if something isn’t working for you. He’ll know if you’re faking it and that will kill his inspiration. He’ll start doubting himself.

He likes it when you talk dirty to him, even if your words make him blush, but refrain from being vulgar. He will find it in bad taste.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs):

Anything that involves humiliation or degradation of you or himself.

Any weird kinks.

Don’t ask him to get into hard-core BDSM. He won’t do it.

Edgeplay. Anything that would hurt you is a big no for him. He loves you too much and wouldn’t bear the thought of bringing any harm upon you even if it’s consensual.

He won’t do it in public places.

Poor hygiene will definitely turn him off.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.):

He may not be very keen on the idea of oral sex at first, whether it’s giving or receiving. Poor bb is still shy even if he doesn’t want to look like it.

But he may be open-minded about it once he gets more experience with you.

He’ll get there with gentle guiding and reassurance, but don’t rush him if he isn’t ready yet. Let him go at his own pace.

Once he gets past his initial shyness, he’ll be more confident to go down on you.

He won’t mind receiving but he prefers not coming in your mouth or any other part of your body.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.):

Let’s be honest. Shaka doesn’t fuck. Ever. He’s not gonna rip off your clothes or manhandle you or use you like his plaything. That’s not his style.

Don’t get the wrong idea. Despite his cool exterior, he’s still a passionate man. It’s just that his passion burns slower than most.

He will take his time to make sure everything’s perfect so you both can take delight in the experience.

His mindset is one of enjoying the build up and the journey rather than desperately rushing to his destination.

He wants to relish in every kiss, every caress and every sound of pleasure you make, he wants to feel all of you— to reach into your soul.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.):

Quickies aren’t his thing. Shaka’s sex life isn’t very spontaneous, so suggesting him to pull off a fast one isn’t going to appeal to him.

He can control his urges and expects you to do the same. He can wait until a more appropriate time for intimacy.

Shaka needs preparation to have sex. He wants to be in the right state of mind, he needs to plan the details of that special night with anticipation, he doesn’t want to leave anything to chance or else he’ll find it difficult to be at ease.

Let him have it his way, it’ll be worth it.

Conversely, you can teach him how to be less uptight and not to fret over being flawless.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.): 

Shaka is game to experimenting as long as you talk about it beforehand, but don’t expect him to go outside his comfort zone. It’s a feat in itself that you even managed to get him laid.

He prefers sticking to what works for you both, so keep in mind he’s not very adventurous. 

But he’ll do his best to please you and will be open to suggestions on how to spicy things up in the bedroom.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?): 

It may not look like it but Shaka has a surprising amount of stamina.

Though he’s a bit slow to warm up, his passion will burn longer.

He won’t tire out easily but if you’re exhausted already he’ll let you rest. If you want to go another round, he’ll be happy to oblige.

He can last for a very long time without releasing inside you, but he’s also learned to have orgasms without ejaculating.

All that meditation and self control stuff? Well, turns out it’s helped him have a wonderful sex life with you :v

Bae can keep going all night long. You’ll sooner get exhausted before he does.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?):

He doesn’t own any toys. The only toys he knows are the ones kids use to play.

Blindfolds and restraints are okay. He’ll use them on you if that’s what you want.

He still prefers simple, intimate, vanilla sex. Less is more for him.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Shaka can be a big tease when he wants to so don’t expect him to be very merciful if you provoke him.

He loves it when you beg him like a god tho.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.): 

He’s not very loud. Shaka is always restrained about how vocal he is, but you’ll definitely hear him grunt and sigh and moan often.

He prefers listening to the sweet sounds you make.

Once he’s close to an orgasm, he can get noisier and will try to muffle his moans by biting his lips or kissing you.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character): 

At times when tending to his garden in the house of Virgo, he’s thought about making love to you under the night sky and among the flowers he’s cultivated.

Your hair covered in petals as the light of the universe shines in your eyes is a sight he wants to see in this life.

Though maybe he’ll never have the chance to tell you.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes):

Ideal size. Not too big, not too small. Proportional to the rest of this body. 

He’s got a pretty cock, honestly. Its texture is silky and when he’s hard it turns a rosy color. 

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?):

Shaka’s sex drive isn’t very high actually and, if it’s up to him, he won’t have sex very often. He’s for quality before quantity.

You may start wondering when was the last time you even had intimacy.

Don’t be surprised if it’s been 84 years.

He might as well look at the calendar and think “we haven’t done it in a while, next week may be a good time to get it on”.

His training taught him not to grow attached to his desires and he’s tremendously disciplined at that.

It doesn’t mean he doesn’t have sexual desires. He just doesn’t let them control him and is not animalistic about them.

Sex isn’t the most important aspect to have a fulfilling relationship. It’s just the icing on the cake, so to speak.

What truly matters is the emotional bond you two have forged. 

You’re not an object for him.

He can live happily without any kind of sexual intimacy if that’s what you want. He won’t love you any less for it and you’ll never hear complaints or reproaches from him.

Shaka doesn’t feel guilty about wanting to make love to you. Just don’t expect him to be a sex beast ready to pounce on you any time. That won’t happen.

Shaka would have no problem if you have a higher sex drive than he does. He’ll strive to make you happy. 

If you take the initiative and try to get in his pants, as long as he’s in a private and comfortable environment where he can let go, he’ll give in. Otherwise forget it.

Plan ahead if you intend to get naughty with him. Shaka will appreciate the thoughtfulness.

Just don’t take advantage of him because as much as he enjoys sleeping with you, he’ll quickly get bored if all you think about is undressing him when you’re with him.

Don’t reduce him to a sex object for your personal gratification, he won’t be comfortable with it. Respect and love him like he does with you. 

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards): 

Shaka doesn’t fall asleep immediately.

He likes cuddling after making love.

He may have his eyes closed but he’s still awake and he’s listening to your every breath, your heart beating, he’s basking in the warmth of your gentle and blissful cosmos.

He can’t believe he has the most wonderful person in the world by his side.

Even if you both know it may not last, that the next holy war approaches fast and he’ll have to fight, you’ve made peace with it. You accept what the future holds in store for both.

However, that thought still keeps him awake at night.

But he’ll never tell you. He’ll just kiss your forehead and stroke your hair until you’re fast asleep.

                                                          * * *

Well, that’s it. I can’t believe I did this. Anyways, I hope you enjoyed (?

[tcheschirewrites]

@ghost-flakes replied to your post “WIP Folder Tag”@tcheschirewrites omg I'm eyeballing so many things on your list, hahah. Sequel to Culture Shock, the Obito/Reader fic, the Fugaku!Tobi one, the KakaReader pining (oh lawd, the pining, i am HERE for it), tarot??, Sasori quarantine?? - mind sharing more for any of these, please? 

Totally! 

So I’m gonna be a smidge tight-lipped about the Culture Shock sequel, because there are at least three major events that occur between where we’re at now and when the sequel is set that I don’t wanna spoil. BUT I will let you know that it’s set approximately two months after the events of the Culture Shock epilogue, which is set about two years after the events of Culture Shock itself. We worked hard for a happy ending, and I intend to be thorough. A detail that I am willing to share is that Mokuba tries to get Despacito played during a wedding, and no one knows how to tell him no.

The Obito/Reader fic! I don’t remember what started that one, but it’s a post-canon fix-it fic where No One Died Okay. The reader is a pioneering graduate student in psychology, trying to get therapy and counseling in general to take off (her scholarship depends on it). So she travels to Konoha bc it’s the largest shinobi nation and makes her way through the high-ranking shinobi there. All of the Uchihas are prisoners of the state, and she tries to negotiate with Rokudaime Kakashi for some facetime with them, and eventually he agrees. BUT! There is a secret in reader’s past that puts her under suspicion, and it is up to Obito to help her out of her pickle while still being locked away. I actually got this one decently planned out, and the first couple of pages written.

The Fugaku is Tobi WIP is. Exactly what it says on the tin. lmao I was inspired when someone made a post about that panel where Tobi says “That’s my boy” when Sasuke kills Danzo, and the caption on the post was something like “man how fucked up would it be if Fugaku was Tobi lol” and a commenter was like “someone please write this”. So I started to. I have some plot holes to work out, but I’ve got about a page into it. I really like this idea, and I actually poke at it in between other projects pretty often.

The KakaReader Pining, I’ve posted some snippets here before when I was writing it. I’m about...4k or so into it? Basic premise is that reader goes on an undercover mission and accidentally gets knocked up by the mark, and bc of Kakashi’s nose he’s the first one to notice when they go on a mission together. It is then, of course, that he realizes that he has feelings for her. There is fake dating, and at one point there is only one bed. He gets her takeout. It’s very sweet.

The two tarot ones - for the Bakura one, he goes down to New Orleans and the reader runs a voodoo shop and does a reading for him, but the reading accidentally ends up being for the Spirit of the Ring, who Does Not Like being called out. The Ready or Not one, is a pre-movie Daniel/Grace where they go on a double-date with Alex and Charity to a carnival and get a three-card-spread.

The Sasori quarantine lmao Okay that one I got the idea for when quarantine started, and the basic premise is that Sasori gets wind of where Orochimaru is hiding after Konoha Crush but before Sasuke Retrieval Arc (when he’s in that body with the short blond hair and he’s pulling his best Shishio impression), and he just. Fucking murders him, because he’s tired of what a nasty bitch he is. They bitch at each other while Kabuto is burying a body in the background. I should really finish this one, it’s just a silly Sasori piece bc I love this grouchy boy a lot. 

[roseyturtles]

more mikey angst yeehaw

welcome back to “oh lawd Rose is on their bullshit again” and this time I have writing done at 3am

So this requires a little bit of explaining. First, I’m using “Artist” as a nickname for 2018 Michelangelo and “Freckles” for 2012. Second, this is fast-paced. Almost uncomfortably so. You’ll have to suspend your disbelief enough to believe that talking to another version of yourself is more vulnerable than anyone else, and that all Mikeys are just that empathetic. Third: I’m not making excuses for wrongs on the part of 2012′s writers or characters, and I’m not leaving room for anyone else to do so either.

Tagging @brightlotusmoon in this as per usual because she’s my ultimate motivator in Mikey writing.

That being said, enjoy.

"Wait wait wait wait," the freckled turtle started, waving his hands in front of his face. "So. Your brothers DON'T smack you around when you're being obnoxious?"

"Wh--no?? What kind of brothers hit each other?!"

When Michelangelo---or, well, "Artist Mikey," as they would later clarify to try and discern between the two versions---first had this other version of himself arrive at his doorstep, he wasn't expecting this to become of it. The "rounder" turtle, a few inches taller and formed from a different base species entirely, but still very much a clone, had started out with bright smiles and a skateboard under his arm, ready to grind the sewer walls with his counterpart. And grind they did, both using their skills to perform impressive tricks around every bend and railing available, until they chose to mount on a surface rooftop for a breather. That's when real conversation started up, mostly about their common and different hobbies and the state of their worlds.

It was only when freckled Mikey mentioned off-the-cuff that he'd be smacked by Raphael for too many bad jokes that the artist realized that maybe they weren't so similar after all, and neither was their family.

"...uh. The normal kind?? What, are you guys all hugs and kisses?" Freckles asked, making a smooching gesture with his hands in a lightly mocking manner.

"Well, I mean, no," Artist started, "but like. Even when we get super mad at each other none of us get hit! And what do you mean by "annoying" anyways?"

Freckles seemed a little bit at a loss, brow furrowed and blinking. Whether that was out the same verbal processing disorder that Artist had or out of disbelief he wasn't sure. Eventually Freckles couldn't make eye contact, or even so much as look at Artist anymore, instead choosing to look away and scratch the back of his head, voice quieter when he spoke.

"Y'know," he tried to reconcile. "Stuff like…being too loud, or moving around too much, or talking about a video game all day."

Again Artist was horrified. That…was all normal stuff for him and his brothers both to do. Yeah, it was more him than them, but none of it was ever considered "annoying." None of it warranted violence. 

"I mean, I remember one time Leo chased me and hit me with a mop after I used his favorite comic as toilet paper, heheh. I was, uh, I was trying to snap him out of a weird mutant wasp trance after he got stung. Nnever--" Freckles suddenly went silent, and for a moment there was tension as he slowly pulled his knees up to his chest.

Then Artist spoke with rare but completely characteristic softness.

"Never thanked you for saving him?"

More silent tension as Freckles remained looking to the noisy city, trying to drown the storm inside his chest with other stimuli. Eventually, though, he 

nodded. Artist took a minute to process everything this implied. The fact that the major good thing Freckles did was overshadowed by the minor bad. The fact that a simple "thank you" or even an "I love you" was too much for that Leo's pride. The fact that nobody stood up for Freckles in that violence, and no one was going to, not without some sort of intervention.

…

Artist scooted a little closer to his counterpart and hugged his nearest arm. Freckles seemed shocked by the contact, and almost a tad uncomfortable, which made Artist's heart hurt more. Was he also never comforted in times of distress?

"I'm gonna be real honest here, Mike," Artist started, opting to use one of their assigned nicknames until they later figured out universal ones. "I don't think any of that's…good. I mean, bouncin' around and talking about stuff for hours is either teen stuff, ADHD, or both. For you to get smacked for doing normal stuff?..." He couldn't collect enough thought matter to say exactly what was wrong with it, but the heavy silence afterwards spoke volumes.

Freckles, too, remained silent after the speech. He had read about ADHD in one of Donnie's countless textbooks and found himself identifying with the symptoms, but never told anyone about it. He was already different from his brothers enough, why give it name and form that could be used as a stamp over his mouth? But something about hearing it from someone else, someone that didn't just know him but was him, made the concept somehow more real, like adjusting pronouns. And yet all of that was overshadowed in a split second by what exactly Artist was getting across. This…how his brothers treated him…wasn't normal. Wasn't okay, even. Another version of him, a fundamentally happier version, wasn't being hit and wasn't being called annoying and was being thanked by his brothers and wasn't trying desperately to appease them and was pursuing his hobbies fearlessly and---

Freckles looked at Artist with just the barest bit of hope.

"What's your dad like?"

"...Imperfect. He's got a lot of bad stuff in his past. But he loves us a lot, and he wants us to be us before we're ninjas. …and yours?"

A moment more of silence. Then, Freckles returned the hug, burying his face in Artist's shoulder. Artist couldn't begin to imagine what kind of a Splinter---of a dad---could normalize domestic violence and emotional frigidity. The best he could imagine was that their Splinter just wasn't there for them. The worst? That he was an active participant in this. Either way, his slowly wettening shoulder told the story loud and clear, and Artist's heart was squeezed by grief for his other.

His whole world, everything he thought he knew, had been shattered in an instant, leaving nothing but shards of rose-tinted glasses and ruinous truth.

It both crushed him and burned him alive to see this happening, and when Artist raised his head, his eyes were determined to set it right, and set it right together.

[miss-oscurita]

Ugh! Lawd! If I get through this funeral without murdering someone, it’ll be a fuckin’ miracle.

Any by “someone” I mean one of the twenty percent! The dramas that have been going on this past month....I just don’t even know where to start and to say I am tired is a fuckin’ understatement. I’ve had to take leave from my day job just to survive the constant barrage of emotional upheaval and distress, primarily caused by the Twenty-Goddamned-Percent of this family of mine! I’m going to be a pallbearer, along with my uncles and my eldest male cousin (because I’m the eldest female grandchild) and my control freak aunty (Dee) hates it as does the other aunty from the twenty percent (Cee) and ESPECIALLY the cousin (Vee) next to me in age (the one who single-white-female’d me to the point of me losing my mind!) because Cee is the oldest daughter and she never got over the fact that my mom (the second daughter) had the first female grandchild before she could. She’s bitter as hell over it, even after all these years! I am SO sick of being told by Dee what me and my immediate family can and can’t do for this funeral. Even down to trying to control what I wear on the day! With Dee saying I’m not allowed to wear a dress if I’m carrying the coffin etc. (It’s not about carrying the coffin, it’s that the three of them hate to lay eyes on me at any point because they hate the fact that even though we’re all tall, I’ve got the longest/”best” legs....how fuckin’ stupid is it to hate someone over that?) It’s like every tiny thing she’s got to pick at and make a big issue out of when it doesn’t need to be. But unbeknownst to her, I’m not wearing a dress anyways, because I’m going on my bike. I’ve secretly planned with our slew of biker friends that I will lead all of them behind the limos in the funeral procession. The reason I learned to ride in the first place is because my GD employed so many bikers/HA’s in his haulage business and so I grew up around huge trucks and motorbikes. Some of my fondest memories of him and my childhood are from hanging out at the yard and it seems apt to show how that made me who I am today. So there’ll be the hearse, two limos, and a squadron of bikers, with a truck from the family business following the coffin and everyone else coming up behind that. People are going to fuckin’ hate us in town because we’ll be jamming up traffic but oh well. All the family and family friends have been asked by my brother’s to wear a flat cap if they have one, because my GD was never without one himself. The twenty percent don’t know about that either so, they’ll be flipping a shit over it I’m sure. I’ve also got him a very fitting floral tribute too, which I know he will love because he saw one similar when my Grandma was buried and kept saying how good it was, but I’m certain that’ll get me strung up by those bitches, but I really don’t care. Them having beef about that kind of thing just says what horrible, begrudging bastards they are. My mom is destroyed by the loss of her dad, who was her best friend too, and especially the fact that we haven’t been allowed to add anything to what’s said during the ceremony. We’ve been told to shove all the poetry and song suggestions we’ve made and we have to rely on my auntie Dee’s choices and her choices alone. Which is some major fuckin’ bullshit! She’s been refusing to speak to my mom for the last few days because I dared to question her choice of venue for the wake. So all the nastiness she’s putting out is getting relayed via other members of the family, which is her usual tactic to shit stir. She won’t even tell us what music she’s chosen for the coffin to come in to. But ultimately, the family is so big, if we all picked up one poem/song/funny story etc to share, we’d be there all day. I don’t know how everyone is going to fit into the chapel, because there are so many people coming to see him off because he was such a local legend. There’s talk of putting up a video screen outside to make sure no one is left out. It’s gonna be a great send off, but I’m absolutely dreading it, primarily because of these three bitches gunning for anyone who goes against their demands. I’ve been in an out of a horrible place the last couple of weeks and it’s so much harder than I even thought it would be. He’s my last remaining grandparent and because my own dad was such a shit, my Grandad became a surrogate father to me as well as a grandfather, and my mom has always been his best friend so for the vast majority of my life I’ve always been around him. So knowing he’s not around to make more memories with will be horrible. He’s left such a huge hole! On the day you’ll be able to cut the atmosphere with a knife between the family members that get along, and those who don’t, and I struggle with keeping my expression, tone and behaviour neutral when I’m around people I hate. But the only good thing to come of this, is knowing that once all this is done and dusted, we won’t ever have to see the twenty-percent again. and I can’t fuckin’ wait!

[random-fandom-scenarios]

GASP. You write for gangsta?? Oh lawd! Lol okay. Can I get a 2 separate scenarios with Doug and Nicolas of their female s/o, with a low sex drive and usually not in the mood for it, initiating sex by feeling all up on them and pretty much taking charge? That'll be fun lol please and thank you!

So i have a cousin named doug and writing this was extremely awkward because his face kept flashing into my mind.  

Also typing porn while explaining to people in the library about copy cards was not what I pictured when I signed up for a scenario blog.  #multitasking.

///

Doug:

He was always so nervous about sex, fearing he wasn’t every doing a good job despite you saying otherwise.  Because of this, he was perfectly fine with not fucking someone every other day unlike some of the other guildmates.  

Even so, he would be lying if he said he wasn’t hot and bothered when you started straddling him, trailing kisses down his throat and chest, nipping at all his sweet spots.  

“*Name*,” he called out, gasping when you made it to his boxers and you tugged them down enough to plant a kiss on the head of his dick.  “You don’t have to do this,” he moaned out at the sensation of your mouth around him.  He bucked his hips involuntarily, giving you the chance to yank his boxers down, fully exposing him.  

“I want,” you responded, trailing kisses down his chest again.  “You’ve been so nice to me lately,” you finished, ending at his dick again.

You could feel him about to protest again when you wrapped your mouth completely around him, cutting him off.  One of his hands gripped the blanket next to him, the other finding it’s way to your hair.  

You may rarely be in the mood, but it was still a satisfying feeling, seeing your boyfriend come undone so quickly under your touch.  Grinning around his cock, you released it with a audible pop, one of your hands reaching out to his stomach as you dragged your nails down his abdomen, the other keeping you steady.  

You felt his hips buck again, pushing him against the back of your throat and causing him to moan out at the feeling.  You sped up your pace, your hand holding onto his thigh to keep him from wiggling too much, his moans increasing.  

He was close, you could tell, the muscles in his thighs spasming, making it harder to keep him still.  With one last trick up your sleeve, you started humming, know full well this was his complete undoing.  

“Oh god,” Doug his back arching slightly as he tried to stay still, but the vibrations traveling up his dick along with the feeling of your tongue wrapped around him had him seconds from cloud nine.  “*Name*,” he called out, alerting you to the end.  You gave the tip one last slow suck before pumping him once, watching as his entire body shook, his cum flying onto your chest.  

He looked up at your grinning figure between heavy breaths.  “Sorry about your shirt,” he huffed out.  

Nic:

Most of his pent up energy was released when he went out on a job, the mess, a trail of bloody bodies in an alley.  But there were some occasions where a little more was needed.  Since it was rare and far in between, you didn’t mind.  He made sure your needs were taken care of.  

But this was new.  Never once had you taken charge in the bedroom.  Well, shower, in this case.

Nic was oblivious to you entered the bathroom until he noticed the shower curtain move slightly and felt your hands slid up his abs, your nails scratching at him lightly.  You didn’t see it, but he had a predatory grin on his face in that instant.

“Wha’s ‘is?” he said, watching your hands retreat to his back where the pressed into him without just enough pressure to send a shiver down his spine.  You tugged at his side, telling him to turn around and face you.

Obliging, he grinned down at your frame, appreciating the rare view.  A special early birthday treat you signed at him, before grabbing his hands and placing them on your body.  His grin only widened as he started roaming your body, watching as you leaned forward, intertwining your fingers in his wet hair and trialing quick bites up his collarbone and neck.

He let out a small grunt when he grasped the back of your thighs and lifted you up.  You hissed as your back hit the cold wall, but continued your path up before starting to suck at his favorite spot, right behind his ear.  

You reached down, grasping at his hardening cock and started pumping it as Nic latched onto one of your nipples, sucking at it.  Balancing more of your weight on one arm, he moved his other down to your entrance, slipping a finger in.  He didn’t hear your gasp, but he saw it on your face and as your head fell back against the shower wall.  

Moving to your neck, his bit down a little harder than he should have, kissing and sucking gently on the mark to make up for it while he continued to pump his finger into you.  When he felt himself completely hard, he grabbed your hand and placed it on you, before slipping two fingers in.  You got the hint to help him out, and no time you were ready for him.

Both hands firmly gripping your ass, you knew you would have have shaped bruises on it in the morning, but you didn’t have time to dwell on that before he poked at your entrance with the tip of his dick, teasing your for a moment before dropping you down on him in one smooth motion.  

You yelled out at the feeling, your walls stretching to accommodate him.  Your arm reached out to grip the small window sill nearby, and you half lifted yourself off him, his arms helping you the rest of the way before you dropped yourself back onto him, his face buried in your neck as he bit down on the hickey he had started.  

Your arm was tired ad strained in less than a minute, leaving Nic to be the one to lift you up off of him on his own.  Nothing he couldn’t handle.  Your hands gripped at his hair, yanking as he sped up his pace, watching with an almost feral grin as your tits bounced up and down.

He groaned out into your neck when he felt your walls tighten suddenly around him.  Your hands gripped at his back, your fingers trying to find friction against his wet skin causing your nails to leave long red marks.  

Groaning out at the pain, he felt your walls clamp down on him again, and saw your head hit the wall, as you came, your vision going black momentarily.  

He pumped into a couple more times, feeling himself get closer before suddenly pulling out and dropping you to your unsteady feet.  One last pump and groan from him, his cum shot out onto the wall before being washed away by the water.  

“Bes’ ‘irthda’ e’er,” he grinned back at you, watching your face light up some between your heavy pants.  

[calywitsune]

Baltesssaaa

mychildren

1. I’m willing to bet that the event that sparked Balsam and Quin’s affection for one another was the night they consoled each other after having to kill people for the first time. It was Balsam’s first loving touch after a lifetime of isolation and neglect, and Quin was so young and still had her rose hued glasses on so after experiencing what was probably her second most traumatizing events (counting her death if she remembered that) I’m sure she just needed someone to hold her and tell her things would turn out okay.

2. Balsam briefly saw Quin as another younger sister when they first began to travel. Part of him was so desperate to have that kind of a relationship since he never got the chance to see his blood sister grow up. But after more traveling. bonding, and after he and Quin aged up a lil bit to catch up on the years they were buried, those hormones kicked in I mean  he began to see her as a peer instead then as a love interest

3. All of the excuses the both of them probably made just to be closer oh lawd– everyone in the troupe probably gave them A Look every time they tried to reason as to why they had to share a tent or why they had to go the the store together when one person was enough.

4. I can’t get over the fact that when Quin finds out Balsam is a leg guy she teases him with her dresses and skirts apparently….oh you wanna see more shin well wHOOP LEMME HIKE THIS UP REAL QUICK AND OH GAWD SOMEONE SAW NOW WE’RE BOTH RED AS A BEET AND SLIDING INTO OUR SEATS

5. The both of them are so lost without the other its ridiculous but also adorable. They probably both tend to check in with each other a lot if they go separate ways– and not in an overprotective “i need to know where you are and what you’re doing every moment”, but “It would be nice to know that you’re gonna be alright wherever you go today, see you when I see you” and yes they always make it a point (subconsciously or not) to at least see the other before bed even if they don’t interact. I know if this didn’t happen then Bal at least would feel like something’s off that night.

[adaleya]

Sex

Pairing: James Moriarty X Reader

Requested By: the-devil-wears-westwood-221b

Prompt: #83 - Sex

Summary/AN: PLEASE READ THIS SO YOU DON'T GET CONFUSED!!!

Oh lawd! I knew this one would be requested sooner or later! Not that I mind...>.< But I am super nervous about posting this, as I don't want it to come off sounding so cheesy, yet it's not something I'm used to writing a lot, so go easy on me if it sucks. :(

So a little back story on this before I leave you alone to enjoy. This was actually written as a chapter to a fanfic I am currently working on. It involves a woman character I made up who met James in school and gives snippets of their life as they grow up together as friends and eventually get married and their life afterwards. The whole thing takes place before, during and after Sherlock. I rewrote this to fit the Moriarty X female reader theme. So to keep everyone from getting confused, it takes place five years AFTER The Reichenbach Fall! Still confused, let me know! If you all want to read the fanfic, I will be posting it on here when it is finished. Might be a while consider I am doing the prompts, plus I actively post on an STRPG forum, have class and work. Anyways! Now, I shall leave you alone. ^.^

Rating: It get's all the ratings!

Warnings: Sex, cussing, more sex.

~!~*~!~

The bedroom was beautiful.

Fluffy white carpet lined the floor, reaching all four corners and bleeding into the light gray carvings that bordered the walls. The room itself was painted a darker gray, the white accents pulling the theme together. A huge window lined one side, doors leading out onto a balcony that over looked the city. The white lace curtains fell over the window, flowing in the light breeze that whispered into the room. A vanity sat against the far wall in the middle of two closets, lined with beauty products and perfumes, a tall mirror attached to the back. In the center of the last wall was the king bed, lined with silk and framed with dark oak. Huge pillows lined the top, with a beautifully crafted comforter. The canopy fell from the ceiling, it's white lace elegant and soft. Next to the bed on both sides sat two nightstands, matching the dark oak of the bed with crystal table lamps.

The room was fit for royalty.

You stood on the balcony, looking out at the beautiful lights of the city. A black nightgown covered your body, silk with intricate lace trim. It held from a clasp around your neck, a slit running down the side from your left hip. Your hair was down, falling around you in the light breeze. Your face was clean of makeup, skin clear and soft.

You turn and walk forward a few steps, the dim light of the candle sitting on your nightstand casting a soft glow across his face as he stood by the door. He was looking at you, no trace of a smile on his lips and none gracing yours. You stared at one another from across the room, a contest.

Your plan had worked.

You held a calm demeanor as the anger boiled within you, a long silence filling the room. You leaned against the door frame and him, standing before the bedroom entrance, hands in his pockets. Finally it was him that broke the silence, “well...you got me out of hiding.” He says, his hands coming out of his pockets as he tapped his wrist, “tick tock darling, you're wasting my time.”

You can't help but laugh, a short giggle leaving you as you push off the frame and walk towards the bed. That was the wrong thing to say. You pick up your phone, answering a message and throwing it back down on the nightstand, angry. His words had only fueled the fire, two could play at that game.

“Honey...” He says, drawling out the word as he walked towards you, “don't tell me you did all this just because you wanted to ignore me.” He stopped when he reached you, looking down at you with his hands back in his pockets. You didn't turn around, didn't look up, didn't move or speak and suddenly he was on you. Grabbing your arms he pulled you around harshly, “I SWEAR, if this is why you caused all this ruckus and ruined my plans, I will....”

“It's been five years, James!” You scream, pulling your arms from his grip and pushing him, “five long and lonely years I've waited for you to come back like you promised me! Yet year after year I was disappointed!” You pushed him back until he was against the wall, “I've stayed loyal to you! For five god damned years and I'm fucking tired of it, I don't want to be alone anymore! I just want my husband back, I just want to feel like I fucking mean something to someone!” You smack him across the face, your body shaking in anger as you turn away and walk back to stand by the bed, “I just want my life back.”

The room fell silent again, not a single sound but that of the clocks tick as the seconds passed by. You weren't sure how much time had went by when you finally heard him move. He stopped behind you, your heart pounding in your chest from the anger, and the fact that you knew you were playing with fire. You would never admit it, not even to yourself, but deep down you were afraid. You were to do as you were told for his plan to work, stay out of it, but it had been five long years and you were done waiting.

The back of a finger fell against your bare shoulder, tracing the soft skin down to your elbow and back up to your neck, pushing your hair out of the way. You felt him press against you, his hands falling on your shoulders and running down the length of your arms and moving until they were around your waist. You could feel his breath on your neck before his lips touched your skin, kissing the back of your neck softly. You closed your eyes, your hands coming up to rest on top of his as you realized just how much you had missed his touch.

For him, it fell on him like a ton of bricks when you sighed and leaned against him willingly, that agonizing ache of missing you, yet he was angry. The fact that you had brought his plans crashing down around him brought his anger to it's breaking point. He wanted to smack you, to throw you against that wall and scream at you for ruining everything, yet the other half of him missed you, missed everything about you. The one person he had ever let into his life, whom he hadn't seen nor touched in five years was back in his arms.

It was a war within his mind.

“You, you ruined everything.” He said, his voice barely above a whisper as his arms tightened around you. He could feel your body tense against him, your breath quicken just a smidgen, yet that calm demeanor held strong and he wanted nothing more than to break it. He roughly turned you around, this time he was the one pushing as you stumbled back into the wall. He was on you in a flash, his face inches from yours, “all because you were...LONELY!” He screamed at you, “all my work for NOTHING, every bit of it ruined because you couldn't wait a little longer!” His grip on your arms tightened, pulling you forward and slamming you against the wall again. You struggled, managing to pull one arm from his grasp and smack him across the face again but this time he hit back. You stopped your struggling, you cheek stinging. “I should kill you.” He snarled into your face, and for the first time since he had known you, a flash of fear crossed your eyes. He sucked in a slow deep breath, letting go of your arms and bringing up a hand to caress your cheek, a sense of satisfaction within him when you flinched at his hand.

You had always been his equal, never beneath him and this thrilled him.

“But...I won't.” He placed a hand on the wall behind you, the other coming up under your chin and pulling your face up to look at him. He towered over you, the dim light making him seem more sinister, more evil. He smiled as he moved forward, covering the short distance between you and placing his lips on yours. The kiss was soft and you didn't protest and he didn't force anything, it was as if nothing had happened and nothing had changed and this was normal. But it wasn't, it had been five year for both of you, five long years whether he wanted to admit it or not.

When he pulled back he placed a finger over your lips, stopping you from speaking. He knew you wanted to apologize, something he wasn't in the mood to hear as it would do nothing to fix anything. Instead he pulled away, removing his suit jacket and tossing it onto the floor. He reached for your hand, watching you eye it for a moment, you wondering if it was safe before you regained your composure and gave it to him. He pulled you to him, and everything spiraled down from there.

It started with a hungry kiss, him holding onto you roughly as his lips crashed against yours. You met him with equal force, which only egged him on even more. It wasn't just his anger that fueled him, but his lust, his love and need for his wife. He pulled at your nightgown, undoing the clasp around your neck and letting it fall to the floor in a wave of silk. His hands ran down the length of your body, pulling you against him as he moved you both towards the bed where you crashed into a heap of tangled limbs.

He pushed himself up onto his knees and unbuttoned his dress shirt, all the while you worked on his belt. Before too long he was undressed and hovering above you. You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him to you forcefully in a fury of passion. His lips explore your body, one he knew oh so well, traveling across your collarbone before making his way up your neck, over your chin and back to your lips.

You felt him tremble under your touch, a gasp leaving your lips. You fell into a rhythm, two bodies intertwined together. He grabbed your hand, tangling his fingers between yours as he pushed it above your head and into the pillow, his face buried in your neck. You moved together, your bodies connected in every way. His movements were rough, angry and full of lust yet you met him with equal anger, digging your nails into his shoulders and calling out his name in pleas of pleasure.

Then suddenly he stopped, his breath coming out in short gasps as he looked at you below him. He knew you well, knew everything about you, eighteen years of marriage would do that. He loved you, you were the only person he had ever loved, ever trusted and opened himself up too. You knew everything about him, he was venerable around you, an open book. No matter how angry he was, no matter how long he was away, or how many beautiful women he met, he was yours and yours only.

He let go of your hand, cradling your face and kissing your lips softly, “look at me.” He said, as he began to move again, slowly, softer. He knew you were getting close, your eyes closing and body tense. “No, I said look at me.” He whispered, looking into your eyes as he kept his movements steady, a slow build. He could feel everything, see everything as you let go beneath him, your eyes locked onto his the entire time as you arched your back. Your nails digging so deeply into his shoulder it was sure to bring blood, but he didn't mind.

It all felt good to him.

You were breathless afterwards, your nails pulling from his skin and moving down his chest, yet your eyes never left his. He laughed, a cocky smile forming on his lips as he lifted himself onto his elbows. “What?” You ask, a smile on your lips as you saw your husband the way he used to be, cocky, arrogant and so loving.

“Oh, five years and I still have that magic touch.” He says, his voice playful, mischievous with a twinkle in his eyes.

“Hmm...” You place a hand on either side of his face, pulling him into a kiss and using it as leverage as you push him onto his back. You sit on top of him, pulling him up to you so you were sitting in his lap. It was your turn to be the evil one. You began to move, finding your own rhythm as his arms went around your waist, supporting you. He buried his face in your chest, trailing kisses as you slowly brought your hips forward. He looked up at you, your arms resting around his neck, fingers finding their way into his hair. You grabbed a hand full, pulling his head back painfully, it was a turn on for him, like a masochist.

That was the bad thing about all this, was not only did he know you so well, but you knew him. You brought him to the edge, stopping and kissing him as you let that sweet pleasure settle, only to bring him back up again. You did this to him many times, until you could feel him trembling under you, aching to release. You gained a better grip on his hair, pulling his head back again roughly and looking into his eyes just as he did you, moving your hips at a slow pace as you brought him back to that very edge one again. You slowed down even more, his breath coming out in shaky rasps, his whole body tense and vibrating. His eyes were in a haze as he stared up into your beautiful (y/e/c) eyes, he was under your spell, unable to break free. “Let go for me, darling.” You whisper, a smirk on your lips as you tighten your grip on his hair even more, all the while digging the nails of your other hand into his shoulder again. That was enough to send him over, it was pure ecstasy, every nerve on his body a pinpoint to your every touch, every movement of your body. His arms tightened around you, his muscles in spasm as he reached the highest point, unable to keep that deep primal growl from leaving his throat, all the while his eyes never leaving yours.

You place a kiss to his forehead, letting go of his hair as his eyes finally close and he rests his head against your chest, regaining a bit of control over himself. You stayed together, two bodies interlaced together in a mess of sweat and emotions. His deep breaths filled the silence in the room, still coming back down from his moment of pleasure. He felt you tug on him, letting you pull him down until he was laying on top of you. He lifted his head, pulling himself back onto his elbows and looking at you. He placed another kiss to your lips, “this changes nothing.” He says, and you nod in agreement.

He rolled off you, reaching across and pulling the covers over you both before wrapping his arm around you and pulling you to rest on his chest. You stayed that way most of the night, holding one another yet neither one able to sleep. Your fingers traced around his chest, down his stomach and back up, his running through your hair, both of you deep in thought. Finally you broke the silence, lifting yourself up on your elbow and looking at him.

“I know, and trust me, you won't be getting off that easy.” He says, already countering you before you spoke. You glare at him and he smiles, knowing how much you hated it when he did that. “I cannot deny that I didn't want this as well, I've missed having you around.” His hand landed on your arm, his thumb rubbing against your skin mindlessly. “But the things you ruined, that cannot be undone and I'm considering having you stand before a firing squad because of it. We'll just have to wait and see...”

You ignore that last comment, “you're not leave me again.” You say, not as a question or a statement, but a demand, an order.

He raised an eyebrow, he liked it when you were this demanding of him, it was sexy. He grabbed your arm and pulled you back down, placing a kiss on your lips and settling back into pillow. “Not anytime soon, my dear.”

Not much longer and you both were asleep, your hand on his chest with his fingers interlaced with yours.

~!~*~!~

[butter-ff]

U With Me?...

Aubrey: Back at the office I rode the elevator up to my floor and strode into my office to be met by the guys. "Yes?" I asked knowing why they were here but choosing to play it off. "How was it seeing your girl for the first time?" Chubbs was the one to just come out with it. They know I've talked to her here and there, but today was my first day actually physically seeing her since she left and came back. And man what a sight. I just can't get over what our child is doing for her titties! I mean she looked really good, it took every ounce of will power today. I swore Mark to keep quiet about the baby until we figure out how we want to tell people. Knowing Porter's planning ass she already has an idea in mind. "It was fine, she looks happy and healthy and that's all I care about right now." I answered them finally. "Did you tell her we said hi?" Niko asked. I knew I forgot something! "I forgot but I can remedy that, when I FaceTime her tonight!" I told them. "Why do you need to FaceTime her?" Oliver asked curiously. "Just some business we need to take care of." Was my response. "I heard she met Jaya!" Noah smirked. Jaya and I aren't serious at all. She's a beautiful hard working woman and we have great conversation. It's hard not having P here to snuggle and kiss all on, and shower with everything. So I guess in a way I'm just trying to fill a void and Jaya is it. I looked at Mark thinking he told but he shook his head. "Oh shit how did that go?!" Chubbs leaned in smirking. I chuckled wondering how Noah knew. "She texted me and told me. She thinks she's stunning, and she can tell she's really into you. But she said she's not worried as long as you remember who you belong to!" He finished and I smiled shaking my head along with the guys. Porter is something else. But she needs to stop playing because I'll only wait so much longer. "It was interesting... that's all I'll give you for now!" Was my response. "You're being real vague..." Oliver summarized. "Nah man just not much to tell. I say P, she looks good, we're still best friends, it is what it is!" I shrugged and they all stared at me before getting up. When my last friend hit the door I got a few texts. Text Convos: (a/n his name appears how it is in their phones.) Ms. Jaya💁🏽: Congrats on your 👶 maybe I should fall back! My Queen👑: can you talk tonight? I want to run some plans by you!? I responded back to both of them, shaking my head at Jaya. The Boy😍: Were you planning to fall back like in my arms fall back😏 or we talking 🏃🏽? Boss😎: ok I'll FaceTime you when I get home. How are you feeling? Ms. Jaya💁🏽: Don't be cute... there is obvi still something there besides that baby, and I don't want to get in the way! My Queen👑: We're good Brey! I smiled at Porters message... I'm really having a kid with the most amazing sexy ass woman! The Boy😍: she's my best friend and we made a kid together, but I'm interested in you right now... Boss😎: yea y'all good! The titties looking right, and that booty lawd! 🙌🏽🙌🏽 come thru baby Graham!😂 Ms. Jaya💁🏽: mhmm alright Aubrey, I'll talk to you later... you want to FaceTime? I can put on something naughty 😈 My Queen👑: OMG I hate you 😩😭😭😭 chill out bruh!! I laughed Porter is a mess. The Boy😍: sounds fun, I'll let you know a little later... Boss😎: A mess=my baby's mother! Rub our baby for me, and tell his or her mother I know who I belong to... 😏 End text thread... I chuckled to myself putting my phone up and finishing up at the office before heading home. When I got there I changed into some sweats and socks and went downstairs to chill on the couch before calling Porter. FaceTime: I waited as it connected and she came on the screen in a tank top that showed her little belly off, it was sexy as shit. P: stop ogling me you weirdo! I laughed. Me: Pregnancy looks really good on you! P: flattery gets you most things. Me: does it get me you? We stared at each other before her mom poked her head in the screen causing me to smile. Me: hey mama! Ms. P: hey baby how are you? Me: can't complain now that P is carrying my baby! She smirked shaking her head. Ms.P: you'll be a great dad... hopefully the baby's mother will get it together soon! P: Ma!!! I laughed at the looks they gave each other. Me: we can only hope, or I'll have to move a long and find a woman to appreciate me! P: I wish you would find someone else, there will never be another Porter Sophia Pier Aubrey I'm one in a million and the best you've ever had! Me: Baby you're my everything... but seriously don't make me wait to long you with me or what? P: you know I am... just a little longer. Me: how long P? I hate begging and shit but I need to know. P: I don't know Aubrey... I shook my head over this portion of the conversation. Me: Alright P... I was good until her face scrunched up and she started crying. That's when all my resolve left. Me: P please don't cry! P: I just want to keep pushing Aubrey... I'm doing so good and you've been so patient. But she's really pretty what if she takes you from me and our baby, what them huh? I watched her cry and talk to me rubbing her belly and my heart was going through it. So I got up packed a bag and got in my car before I realized what I was doing. Me: I'm coming... P: huh where... Aubrey where are you? She stopped crying and was now sniffling looking at me suspiciously. Me: you can't cry... I told you what that does to me. P: are you on the way here? Aubrey turn that car around! I parked my car getting here faster than I ever have. Me: open the door Porter! End FaceTime... I hung up and her mother opened the door with a smirk on her face. "Well lookey here Porter, you shed some hormonal tears and the man come running. Pot of gold down there I swear!" Ms. P joked giving me a hug and moving to let me in. I put my bag down by the couch and sat next to her as she just stared at me. "Stop staring and come here P!" I said softly. She studied me for a moment before crawling over, and my lil man went on hard as soon as those titties hung free! Damn it she's not wearing a bra... she sat in my lap and I put my arms around her rubbing my baby. "You cry I come... simple!" I said in her ear. I felt her shiver as she buried her face in my neck. "I'm sorry, your baby makes me super emotional!" She said into my neck. "Don't apologize, now what did you want to talk to me about?" I asked. She sat up a little and straddled my lap reaching for her phone causing her breasts to rub past my chest. "I want to get everyone together so we can tell them about baby Graham!" She absentmindedly rubbed her stomach, and I found my hand on hers as she did it. "Ok what do you have in mind?" I asked. I listened as she told me her plans, and what she wanted to see happen. We threw ideas at each other as her mom told us goodnight and left us alone. When everything was planned we texted our people and watched some tv before she fell asleep. I picked her up turning everything off and heading to her room. I sat her on the bed where it all ended... but my thoughts left when I looked at the frame still on her bedside. I put the covers over her content to sleep on the couch. "Get in the bed Aubrey!" She was looking at me now. "You sure I can..." she rolled her eyes. "Bed... NOW!" I smirked at her tone... of this were any other time. I got in after stripping down to just my briefs. When I looked up her tank was off and my girls were set free and sitting pretty. "They're so tender, I like them to be free at night!" She explained. I nodded getting into bed. She snuggled up under me like she always does and again it took all my will power. "Can you rub my belly so I can sleep?" The question was innocent enough but I was really going through something over here! I rubbed her belly and felt her breathing instantly change. When I heard a soft little snore I kissed her forehead and pulled her closer. "Daddy loves you baby Graham, and you mommy with all of my heart..." It's short and unedited but the next one should be longer...

[abitterlifethroughcinema]

Three (+1) Movies You Ought to Catch This Week!

                     WOKE! Film Reviews

                                    by

                        Lucas A Cavazos

Widows #### Steve McQueen has really begun to whet his appetite on fare that is directly in tune with things people need or want to see at the time of release. After his last film Twelve Years a Slave swept the Oscar a few years back, the industry sat on its laurels while Trump took office and the British McQueen took to work on this stellar heist film.  In this case, we are going to take a look into the deeper side of inner-city Chicago, fusing ward life, a quatrain of husbands’ deaths, politics and a smidgen of church and family…life, that is to say. What you see and what you get is sure fire suspense and a feeling that the gals behind Ocean’s 8 some months back may have preferred being in this caper. Viola Davis, Michelle Rodriguez, Elizabeth Debicki and Carrie Coon make up the ‘widows’ of this film, whose hubbies are knocked off during a heist gone awry in an incredible action sequence which commences the film, truly brilliant. When Veronica Rawlings (Davis) is accosted at home, she discovers her husband’s original plans by searching their private bank vault and, as well as, finding nudie pics of a hotshot politician, she takes it upon herself to contact the ladies of the men who were killed along with her husband, played by Liam Neeson incidentally, if even but for a moment. On the other hand runs a political theme, which finds such skilled hands under the direction of McQueen, whose mastery of highlighting the linear aspects of the characters truly identify the black vs. white drama which ensues even today in the USA. The fact that he uses its most violent city as its backdrop is perfectly poignant. Robert Duvall and Colin Farrell play politicos who want to get the black vote stabilised under their control throughout the wards of Chicago, and though Farrell is slightly annoying, the fact that their surname is Mulligan says it all, frankly. There are some moments of lull and formulaic scenes once the heist plans are laid bare and set in to action, but one can NOT help feel a sense of internal “Hell Yeah, baby!” when the going gets tough towards the film’s end. McQueen has found a perfect recipe to fuse important elements that will attract modern US society and Lawd knows the masses are likely to show up in droves. (Now playing across Catalonia and Spain)

Fantasic Beasts: The Crimes of Grindelwald ###  The last time I critiqued J.K. Rowling’s last big production, I was writing for the local English magazine, and I recall sitting in the screening thinking, “Did I shave my legs for this trite shite?” That said, it is a good thing that director David Yates has returned from his Harry Potter daze to take the reins of this saga…or is that me being too kind? With a running theme that implies the horrid nature of racism, which is at least one positive about the film, and decent performances by Johnny Depp and Eddie Redmayne are quite well done to be sure, the film does not turn into a total snore-fest, but it is still no way near the bravado of Rowling’s original efforts with Harry and his mates. This time around, we find the oddly-named Newt Scamander (I mean, honestly!), played by Redmayne, seeking a way to re-instate his passport availability, and when he is charged with the task of protecting Credence Barebone (again with these bloody names!), the child with an obscurial, which harnesses his rage and can turn it into a ghastly and scary power force, he gets to move on and travel to Paris. All of this is to thwart the malevolent advances of a dark villain known as Gellert Grindelwald (Depp). Ugh…we all still together here? Well then comes the unknown myths and history explained in flashbacks, as well as, the dubious nature of this young Barebone, who is adopted, and this is when Rowling’s famed sociological study comes out referencing bloodlines and the nature of family. I actually started to enjoy the film as this corner was turned….but so long into an already long film also serves to show us what is coming up short. That would be  that when telling such a daunting tale with oh-so-many back stories, there needs to be a stronger semblance of coherence. What we had with the Potter series (which was an aide) was that we could always turn to the books to remember and recall scenes and background. We don’t have that with Fantastic Beasts, and the fact that there could be more of this makes me less than desirous to see what happens with Newt and his admirable cronies-in-good. (Now playing across Catalonia and Spain)

Bad Times at the El Royale ###-1/2   Starring a host of insanely good actors in a mondo bizarro film, Bad Times takes one on a trip fuelled by 90s indie darlings like Tarantino mixed with a dash of Bates Motel depression and a tinge of the crazy claustrophobia of Oliver Stone’s U-Turn, and it is a wild ride, trust; so those attending should be duly noted and not be too sober. The name comes from a Lake Tahoe-based hotel set in kitsch 60s decor, with on e wing of the hotel in California and another in Nevada, therefore permitting casino-style slots and action. Told in notable-titled chapters, director Drew Goddard tells us the story of singer Darlene Sweet (the amazing Cynthia Ervio), who arrives at the hotel with a contract to sing at some Reno dive. Jeff Bridges plays a priest, Jon Hamm a vacuum cleaner salesman, and Dakota Johnson as a sociopathic-leaning hippie. Throw in Chris Hemsworth as a hippie-like action cult leader, and you get some good Hollywood acting fodder. Erivo shines (she also is brilliant in the aforementioned Widows, reviewed above!) as Darlene, and her vocals throughout the film, which itself is infused with 60s soul tunes, make the death scenes and splatter ones all the more so palatable if still creepy and gruesome. The film begins with someone undoing a room in the tacky-ass hotel and burying a case full of money, only to then re-put the room into proper order. Thereby, time apparently passes and the motley crew that assemble at the cursed hotel find that hey are in for the pounding of a lifetime. This film would have been much relished had it come out 20 years ago, and so I’m curious to see how audiences and other critics react to and interpret Goddard and cast’s thrilling kill-fest because nothing is quite what it seems, and the intensity behind what may or may not come is hauntingly spooky yet oddly familiar somehow. (Now playing select theatres in parts of Catalonia and Spain)

Our New President ###-1/2   Premiering in Spain at L’Alternativa a couple of weeks back, this little-seen but oh so well-done documentary focuses on something many of us have not seen or heard…the Russian news outlet view of the Presidential elections of 2016. Director Maxim Pozdorovkin has taken scores of scenes from Russian news, as well as, detailing many of the minds behind the production and presentation of said “news,” thrown it in a blender and then methodically played out all these scenes to us, the stunned and often enraged viewer. What makes this doc so spellbinding is that there are no (virtually none, anyway) inklings to the US and its view of the campaigns. Within 20/25 minutes, we see that everything we presumed about Russian interference and aid to Trump for his election were quite obviously happening. It is a true mind fuck, and I do not use that word-phrase lightly! Some of the newscasts and reports that were so staunchly in favour of The Orange One and hyping Hillary as Killary. What starts off as a rather odd, even unmotivated doc, soon turns into a full assault of the political senses, and I urge everyone reading this to check it out. (Now available VOD)