#pieces of that for sure manifested in… whatever that conversation was

[kithmet]

i think there’s a part of buck—a part that exists very, very deep in his subconscious—that has feared being accused of being in love with eddie from the moment he realized he liked men. like, if we circle back to 7x05, eddie is the only person buck is scared of coming out to. he does it fine with everyone else, on accident, brushing off the importance of it. but with eddie we had a whole episode avoiding it. his relationship with eddie is the only one that could be fundamentally impacted by that change. a part of buck was maybe scared, irrationally, that eddie might think it now means he is in love with him.

so when tommy brings it up in 8x11, this thing that has been eating away at buck for almost a year at this point, he goads tommy into saying it. it’s obvious tommy was referring to eddie but buck wanted him to voice it, he wanted someone, anyone to say it aloud. he wanted to hear those fears said to him for the first time, maybe because in a way it almost validates this crazy part of him that he repressed down. honestly, i think buck is relieved someone finally said it so he could start arguing his case.

the problem is, when he finally starts speaking the arguments he’d prepared—“eddie’s straight”, “this isn’t even really his house”, “it just isn’t like that”—he realizes that, actually, no one actually believes him. that’s what pisses him off the most, what sent him over the edge with tommy. then the, “everyone wants me to be hopelessly pining for my straight best friend,” when absolutely no one said that! those are his own fears that have manifested. and what’s even worse than all this is—it might even be true. but i think buck will avoid that until something snaps.

[strawbeerossi]

August || Chapter Two

Pairing: Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid

Chapter Description: Spencer confides his guilt of losing you as a friend into JJ and he hatches a surefire plan to get you back. In the meantime, you are still struggling to pick up the pieces of your broken heart. Although mourning is slowly manifesting into exhaustion.

Content/Warnings: Guilt, Spencer trying to buy friendship, reader is a tad hostile, threats of violence, a special interaction at the end.

WC: 2.5K

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“I can’t believe that she said that!” JJ stared at Spencer in shock, the male sulking on the couch while he brought a hand up to rub his face. “So now she is just abandoning you? Some friend.” She murmured.

JJ felt she did nothing wrong. After all, you and Spencer weren’t dating and the confession was life and death at the time. She never assumed he would approach her and ask her if what she said was true. She could accept how she’d be the villain to Will but that was neither here nor there.

“I just feel like I was too harsh at the moment. I know it’s the truth but I could’ve been kinder to her about it..” Spencer had been going over the full interaction in his mind for hours, worried about wherever you stormed off to. He could take a hint, you didn’t want him to follow so he stayed with Penelope, who looked at him with disappointment and disapproval. It was never easy to swallow whenever even the lovable blonde knew that you were in the wrong.

“What more could you have said?” JJ asked, face softening as she was sitting beside Spencer while her gaze was fixed on him. “You told her that you didn’t assume it was serious. That’s the truth. She's upset with your honesty, that’s hardly your fault. She will have to get over it.” 

The more they talked about it, the worse that Spencer began to feel. Sure, you had feelings that he didn’t know about prior to the JJ situation but there was a lot more that he still could have done. He couldn’t help but ponder what could’ve happened if he explained everything to you right after they were released from their hostage situation. 

You could’ve talked some sort of sense into him, maybe something along the lines of a nicer reminder of JJ’s husband and children. He was blinded by devotion and adoration to JJ, quite frankly, he still was. Regardless, he couldn’t afford to completely lose you, not after the way you’d worked so hard to get him to open up to you.

All he needed was to figure out how to make things better. It would take a lot of time and effort but he knew that just as you had broken his wall down whenever you first started, he could break yours down as well.

You weren’t interested in those games. Spencer had begun approaching you at the office a few weeks after your last conversation. He would bring you your favorite desserts, a coffee, sometimes even flowers in an attempt for reconciliation. 

Luke definitely appreciated the gesture though, being the lucky one to get whatever beverage or food item that Spencer tried putting on your desk. It was annoying, truth be told. You set a firm boundary, one that you assumed he’d be more than happy to follow. After all, JJ was the light of his life now, you didn’t understand why he was so focused on you again. With the way she continuously followed him around, it seemed as if they were plenty happy.

Just like every day, you walked to your desk on a bright Monday morning to see a muffin sitting on your desk. Spencer was trying to be sly, hand against his cheek as his eyes were subtly looking in your direction. 

However, the pattern continued much to Spencer’s dismay. 

“Wow, thanks.” Luke was grinning as you held out the baked good towards him, happily reaching for the muffin. In the first few instances, you felt bad for Spencer, your heart still holding out hope for reconciliation and the chance for him to change his mind and just be with you instead.

That dream was massacred worse than the murders from the likes of George Foyet and Mr. Scratch. Especially when you realized it was almost as if he expected to be immediately forgiven, even though his actions could never warrant instant reconciliation. 

“It’s gonna take more than confectionary goods and coffee.” You stated in a simple tone, eyes down on your desk as you could feel Spencer’s eyes fixated on you. “I’d hope you’re not ignorant enough to believe that buying my friendship is all it takes.” 

“Right..” Spencer frowned while looking away, fingertips drumming against the wooden desk. “I’m trying.”

“Not hard enough.” 

He could admit his attempts were lazy, the idea of getting treats being a shot in the dark. You wouldn’t speak to him, so he was having to sift through every single idea in his brain. He may have been a genius but he was horrible with apologies, never being able to articulate the words he needed to say without the stress of offending anyone being there. The words were hard to find for him. 

He could give a profile, intricate details about victims and serial killers as well as absorbing every ounce of their past and personality. He could apply that same logic here, although he felt like treating you like a victim or a serial killer wouldn’t make things any better. Probably even worse. 

Regardless of that, he was more than determined to rekindle your friendship, even though deep down he knew that it could never be the same. Being complacent in the end of a marriage made nobody look good, he should’ve had the common sense to think of that before.

“I don’t understand why things have to be this way.” JJ spoke up, a mug of coffee in her hand as she was walking from the kitchenette. “We can talk about things, make them a little easier. I mean, I think a conversation is long overdue.”

You were shaking your head. “I have nothing to say to either one of you. I wish you would get it through your thick skulls. You had a chance to talk to me after everything happened and you stayed quiet. It shows what your intentions were. You aren’t ashamed of what you’ve done and you clearly didn’t care about the fate of our friendship at the time, so I see where I stand.”

“I just think it’s unfair. That’s all. Spencer is trying.”

“Life is unfair. He should try harder.” You responded, calm and collected so as to not get yelled at by Emily again for an outburst. You didn’t have the energy to yell at them anyway, they weren’t worth it.

“I don’t know what else you expected.” Matt spoke up from his desk, leaning back in his chair. He hardly ever got involved but this situation was enough to frustrate him and his wife. “JJ, you knew what you were doing when you decided to pursue Spencer. Not only did you betray a friend but you ruined your own marriage over it. You had vows with Will and completely tore them up and burned them in front of everyone.”

Spencer was sighing from frustration from his desk. “I understand what was wrong about this situation but continuously bringing up the incident isn’t going to benefit anyone..” He spoke while bringing a hand up to rub his face.

“You can’t handle hearing what you’ve done. It’s natural for people who feel guilty.” Luke hummed as he let his arms cross. You really did have the whole team on your side, it seemed. That helped more than ever, honestly. 

“You’re biased in this case. We all are. Arguing will get us nowhere.” You spoke up, a soft sigh leaving your lips. “You think you did nothing wrong and we all know that you did. That’s all there is to it. Just let the fantasy go. I’m not interested in friendship with either one of you. Not now anyway.” 

It was honest, mainly due to the fact that you didn’t want to spend all your time talking about the possibility of friendship after such a stab to your heart.

“I think you should at least allow us to extend the olive branch. Spencer at the very least,” JJ began while putting her hands together. 

“Giving me a branch will only result in you getting beat over the head with it. I told you, I’m ot interested in pretending that things are okay and that I’m perfectly happy with the both of you. That’s not going to happen. I’m telling you that if you want to salvage any morsel of a friendship, you need to leave me alone.”

That seemed to be enough to make Spencer look back down at his desk, gaze fixed on the file on his desk although he couldn’t bring himself to focus. He didn’t want to have things completely ruined between you both, even if the blueprints for that were there. He felt anger, anger at himself for his way of going about the whole relationship business. He wasn’t made aware of the feelings you once had until it was too late for that to even be discussed.

JJ was angry but not at herself, more-so at the fact that you just weren’t open to the shortest of discussions. Explanations were always used to clear up negatives in every aspect of life. This was no different. “But-”

“Jennifer. Just let it be.” Spencer spoke up with a frown on his face. The use of her first name meant business, that was what made her stop and turn to face him. “Leave her alone. She’s not interested right now. We can talk to her some other time.”

You were thankful, however you didn’t acknowledge the action. 

After that, it was seemingly smooth sailing. Your day was spent finishing case files and ultimately filing them away whenever things were finished. It was honestly the most peaceful you’d been in weeks. It did feel weird, not having Spencer following you like a lost puppy and making an attempt to reconcile.

You oddly.. Missed it. 

Spencer didn’t deserve any of the feelings you felt towards him but you just couldn’t turn off those feelings. Not in the slightest. You still harbored love and care. You needed to put that love and care into yourself, to learn to move on and release any thought of what could have been. 

You were torn from your thoughts when you felt a hand against your shoulder, the touch startling you enough to make you quickly turn around. You were met by Emily offering a small smile back at you. “I didn’t mean to startle you. I just saw you standing here for a while and I had to check up on you.”

“It’s fine. I, uh, I’m okay!” You offered a smile to match hers. “Just thinking of some stuff.”

“Well, Penelope has expressed concern to me, as has everyone else, so I just figured that you needed someone to talk to. I don’t like to brag but.. I am a very good listener.” She mused, her hand moving from your shoulder to rest by her side once more. 

Of course Emily would approach you. You could talk to her about anything without being shamed, even if she could tell you the harsh truth when you needed to hear it. That was why you admired her so much. She was strong, confident. A woman who would speak her mind without fear of anything.

“We obviously don’t have to talk here. We can go to my office, if you’d prefer.” She was trying to get you out of your own head, to help you heal in a constructive way. You were mourning the loss of friendships and she was the one out of everyone else who could understand the complexities of your feelings. She mourned the loss of the team in a far different manner in her past but she knew all the same.

“Yeah.. Okay.” You reluctantly agreed, following close behind as you both made a b-line to her office. You felt stupid, having to cry about how a relationship that isn’t even your own has deeply affected you. 

The minute you were in the safety of her office, you felt an aura of safety. This room was a place where you could speak freely, to rant about your feelings and even shed a few tears all while being in the confinement of the office.

Once that door was shut and the blinds were drawn, you took in a breath. “I don’t want you to think that I’m overreacting.”

“You’re not. You know that you are allowed to have feelings. My only issue is what those feelings are doing to you. I’ve never seen you so upset before.” She said softly while getting seated at her own desk. “Everyone needs to vent sometimes, even if the other person is just listening. I just want to help you in an effort to move past this.” She admitted.

“I also want to make an effort to help you. I want you to grow stronger from this experience rather than cower down and refuse to accept the fact that they are together. I love you, dearly. That’s why you need to know that they shouldn’t bother you. That whole situation is a shitshow and I know that. I just want you to mourn the loss of your friendships and not sulk over this relationship..” 

The lecture was much needed, forcing you to soak up the fact that she was right. You shouldn’t be heartbroken over them. Your friendships were one thing to be upset about but their relationship was none of your business. “I can understand where you’re coming from. I just.. Em.. I don’t know how to deal with this situation. It’s hard to even think about the situation. Maybe it’s the betrayal from JJ that hurts so much.”

“Betrayal can hurt anyone. Believe me, I know. I just want to see you thriving. Between you and I, I feel like you could do much better than him. I used to root for you both but after this nonsense? I’d rather see you with someone who will appreciate what they have. Friend or not. If you and Spencer could work out your friendship, then I’ll be happy. I just hope you consider these circumstances later.”

“Right. I just told him and JJ that I need my space from them. Working with them is one thing but I have no desire to talk to them outside of the work environment.”

“And that’s fine. Just don’t let these negatives throw you off when it comes to your job. Getting along will make things easier, work conversation is a part of that.” Emily wasn’t going to force you to speak to either of them outside of cases and work hours. That wouldn’t be constructive at all.

“Please don’t think that I’m not looking out for you. I’ll always be here for you,” The raven haired beauty said softly as she was reaching over the desk to gently take one of your hands in hers, a reassuring smile on her face as her thumb swiped over your knuckles.

It was oddly.. Affectionate. More affectionate than you were used to coming from Emily.

[dnfity]

they were so silly in your fic thank you so much :(( question. how do you write such realistic dialogue? your dialogue is seriously some of the best i've seen in this fandom

sorry it took me so long to get to this i wanted to try and give a good answer. i think the biggest thing that helps me is to just try to imagine them say whatever piece of dialogue i just wrote in my head. if it sounds weird, then i change it and i'll keep changing and changing it until it sounds real.

i wrote some general notes below and its long so dont open unless u want an essay on your dash:

george:

i think i find george's the easiest only bc i watch his videos/streams the most. some notes for him is that he says dreams name when talking to him A LOT. if u notice, he'll usually say it after shorter commanding phrases. for example, "it's fine, dream" or "stop, dream" or "i dont know, dream". he'll also use his name at the beginning of phrases whenever hes about to complain about something lmao. let's say george wants to go out or something. instead of straight up saying he wants to go out, he might say something like "dream, im bored. this vicinity that we're in, it's boring" expecting dream to fix the problem for him.

adding onto that, he loves his little vocab words. words like befuddled seem to be favorites for him. i think he just likes the way certain words feel to say if that makes sense. (dream is one of those words). he also tends to speak in shorter phrases sometimes, especially when hes trying to joke around. his way of speaking in general doesnt typically involve long-winded explanations. in fact, in the past, when dream or sapnap dont understand what hes saying, he usually gets annoyed. "how do you not know what i'm talking about? you're an idiot."

dream:

the thing that stands out the most to me with dreams way of speaking is that hes usually very honest with everything he says. if he suddenly gets this surge of appreciation or gratitude towards someone, he'll most likely vocalize it. he also - contrary to george - tends to draw out his sentences. i think he is definitely a saying before speaking kind of person, and that usually involves him cutting sentences off to start new ones, run on sentences, etc. he has that adhd way of speaking lmao. stuttering, saying "like" a lot, feeling like he cant get the sentence out as fast as his mind is going, switching between topics while telling a story.

dream also sees the world through a technicalities a little lmao. what i mean by that is that he tends to want to be very specific when it comes to his actions / the things he observes. for example, he can't just say, "i slept so much last night." it'll go more like, "i slept so much last night. i slept for like, twenty hours. ok, well, maybe not twenty hours but it was like - okay, it was maybe like, sixteen hours." this i think also manifests into terms he used to use a lot such as recency bias (and george kinda does too, but i think he does it mostly when talking to dream, a way of mirroring him during a conversation).

tldr just really pay attention to the way they speak to each other and spin them around in your head.

im sure there are things im missing but i hope that was at least somewhat helpful. i also didnt read over this after typing it so if there are errors im sorry.

[sleepyselkiesims]

Part 54

The clock had just struck midnight when the time came for Moon to move on. She'd waited just long enough for Andre's wedding day to officially end.

Andre felt the piece of his heart rip out, and he jolted out of bed and tumbled down the stairs.

Hollie could only cover his mouth in horror as he watched his new husband crumble in agony. There was nothing to be done.

Hollie wanted to comfort Andre, but what was there to say, really? This was a moment no sim ever wanted to go through, and yet so many did.

With this, there would be no more reminders of their childhood life with Aurora and Luca.

Ellis was so struck with grief, he left his food boiling on the stove. He had ice powers, so it wasn't the most dangerous thing in the world, but it sure wouldn't've helped the mood.

Grim showed up in record time. He'd had a lot of practice coming for the Queens.

There wasn't much point in pleading, so Grim reaped Moon's soul as quickly as he could. Better not to leave Andre staring helplessly at his beloved cat's corpse for too long.

Rest in peace, Moon. You lived possibly the comfiest life a fluffy little cat could hope for.

The girls had been blissfully sleeping upstairs, but the second Moon's soul left, Ana bolted upright in bed. She immediately felt the absence of life around the cat post by her bed.

Ana's pain manifested as visions of a monster under her bed, and an understandable new fear.

She came downstairs under the guise of a midnight snack, turning to her dad for comfort. But he was so lost in his own grief, he didn't know what to do.

Hollie did what he could to console Andre, and recommended he go lie down, maybe cry it out. Hollie could take care of the kids.

Hollie was a very compassionate listener for little Ana. He was so empathetic, Ana found him very easy to talk to.

After a remarkably short conversation, Ana felt significantly better! And Hollie was impressed by her it's so cuuuteeeeejkhfdlsjbfldsjbfl

Now that she was less upset, Ana wanted to take the time to appreciate her own pet, and enjoy whatever time they had together.

She felt so connected to Strawberry, Ana was comfortable butting the lil guy right into her face for a cuddle, her favoritest thing. It came back to bite her while the benevolent god briefly turned a blind eye.

Perhaps some friendships were best appreciated from afar.

Take Ellis, for example. He was friendly with Grim, but doubled over in pain and grief whenever Grim was around!

Grim did feel genuinely sorry about that. Ever since befriending Tiana, it had become harder for him to impassively do his job when it came to the Queens.

On the plus side, Ellis could be as gloomy as he wanted, and know Grim wouldn't get scared off. In fact, Grim could meet Ellis on his level!

Maybe, like and yet unlike his grandmother before him, this could be a friendship for the ages.

I just really enjoyed Grim and Ellis stargazing in the snow. It sparked joy!

And Ellis eventually remembered to take the food off of the stove!

[snowy-equinox]

Deities in Dreams

Dreams are a strange gray area, able to be controlled by ourselves but also by outside entities. Anything can happen, and sometimes that anything means something.

It’s easy to get excited when you see a deity in a dream, but most of the time it’s just you. Still, it can be hard to tell the difference and dreams lead to a LOT of confusion. Let’s try to clear some of that up.

What are dreams?

Your brain is receiving a lot of input throughout the day. Everything you do, see, hear, and touch is stored in your brain until a time it can process all of that. Take a moment and think about that: Every post on your feed, every conversation and text, all the interactions between friends, coworkers, customers, all the stressors and small joys, all of that and more is being stored in your brain.

For most of us, sleep is the best time for our brain to work through everything that happened and, more importantly, how it made us feel. Dreams are us watching our brain process the day’s events, and rectifying them with our traumas, thoughts, opinions, feelings, and so on. It is all of our conscious and subconscious from the day, being dumped out on the floor for our brain to sort like a big puzzle.

So yeah, some weird stuff comes up. Things get scrambled as the brain tries to fit everything together, and sometimes pieces are forced together through symbolism. Did your boss yell at you today, reminding you of how your father treated you as a kid? Your brain has mixed those together and now your dad is your boss in your dream.

That example is much more obvious than the usual symbolism we get in dreams, but I think it helps to get the point across.

Why would a deity appear in our dreams?

If a deity is reaching out to us through dreams, we can assume They have a message for us. It could be a warning, words of encouragement, or it could be Them saying They want us to worship Them.

Whatever it is, it is a communication. I do not think deities enter our dreams just to hang out with us, I think They only use dreams as a way to communicate something. If They wanted to just hang out, They could do that during the day.

This means if you did not get a message from the deity, it was likely not the deity appearing in your dreams.

Why would I randomly dream of a deity?

As I said before, our brains often use symbolism in dreams to get the point across. It’s very likely the deity you dreamed of fit a certain symbolism your brain wanted. Much like your boss and your dad were interchangeable in the previous example, a deity might be similar to someone in your life and so your brain has switched them.

It could also be your brain processing your feelings around paganism or deities. Researching a deity or religion means They are often on your mind, and your brain needs to process not only all the information you found that day, but also how you’re feeling about it all. If you’ve been feeling guilt or shame about your practice, it could manifest in nightmares of vengeful or neglectful gods.

I’ve had many dreams of the gods, including Persephone, Hekate, Dionysus. Only one of those was a message, most of them are just my brain using the gods as stand-ins for another person or idea.

How do I tell the difference?

If you recently dreamed of a deity and aren’t sure if it meant anything, ask yourself if there was a clear message. Did the deity have something to tell you, or were They just there doing whatever?

How did you feel in the dream? Were you lucid, or just going with the flow of the dream? I’ve found dreams that mean something often have you in a somewhat lucid state, enough that you’re able to question what is going on around you.

Did the deity act as you would expect? If I had a dream where Hera was telling me to cheat on my partner, that’s obviously not Hera.

Does the message make sense? Athena telling me “Go to the Purple Mountains tomorrow” is nonsense, because there isn’t anything by that name anywhere near me.

Get a reading. When in doubt, always ask the deity over divination if that was Them, or just a dream you had.

Conclusion

Deities can appear in dreams, but not every dream with a deity in it means you need to scramble together a new altar. Our dreams can be tricky, even though they’re meant to help us. Deities in dreams can be misplaced symbolism, or processing a recent event that involved the deity. Even if you find it was a deity that visited you, They may just have a quick message for you.

Dreams are very difficult to decipher, I hope this post can be of help to you.

[donnerpartyofone]

Yesterday morning I woke up early to go to the Corpus Christi event in the park where several local parishes were converging for an outdoor mass. The point of the celebration was to affirm the literality of transubstantiation, since communion has started slipping into the realm of symbolism in a lot of people's minds and the Vatican doesn't like that. I really enjoy the pageantry of Catholicism and I will do anything for a look at the monstrance, the extremely fascinating luxury container for the holy wafer. It looks like something out of DAGON and in fact I wouldn't be surprised if that story were meant to refer to Catholicism in some way, I'm sure Lovecraft hated Catholics as much as he hated everybody else.

At one point the homilist addressed the accusation that eucharistic adoration is a form of idolatry, an impression he corrected by reminding everyone that the eucharist is not a fetish object but the literal body of Christ: "We don't worship a piece of bread!" (congregation laughs appreciatively) But I thought, why not? Even though I'm an outsider who can't take communion, I find it easy to think about its meaning in a general way; like if you believe that there is some sort of generative superlayer to reality, which I'm learning that I kind of do, and if you think everything natural manifests from that, then it's not so hard to think that food is divine. And I mean food is divine, it's what perpetuates life. We SHOULD be treating food with reverence and respect, whether you believe in a spiritual lifeforce or only a chemical one. I'm often surprised that Christians are not hardcore ecologists by nature, if you believe that everything comes from God for humanity to steward, you should have a powerful feeling for your environment--but for whatever reason this is not a standard part of the package. After the park part we processed down the street, which had been closed off for the occasion, to St. Mary Star of the Sea (even more Dagonesque!), and this part was totally amazing. The church was packed to the gills with people from all different parishes and the organist was playing some absolutely demonic music that I had never heard the likes of. When the people sang, the whole place vibrated powerfully, and in a moment of silence an old italian lady started praying at the top of her lungs, startling everyone. It was an exciting thing to get caught up in.

After that my husband and I went to a bar around the corner to stalk the building owner, who is renting a couple of apartments on the upper floors. Unfortunately he wasn't around but we got sucked into a conversation with a local who didn't look like he would want anything to do with the likes of us, a gruff older Brooklynite who engaged us about our weird shared neighborhood for much longer than I meant to stay. I tried to take it as a good sign, like maybe we could put our "vibes" on the place by integrating with the regulars, at the same time that our associates have been recommending us to the owner as good future tenants. It would be amazing if we got in there, we could move almost our whole apartment by hand.

Then it was time to go to the film festival. The screenings I saw the day before were in a theater that is hip but not particularly luxe, which made me feel pretty relaxed about what I was going to have to do--but these screenings were in a VERY nice theater, the lines were huge and everyone was dressed to the nines, and I started to freak out a little bit. The staff rushed me through my instructions with such intensity, I was just praying I actually understood it all. One of the actors on my panel is this cult film goddess who is a terrific person in addition to being shockingly beautiful, and she showed up in this like fairy tale dress that accentuated her otherworldliness to absolutely ridiculous heights. She introduced herself to me and I just started blathering; I'm not attracted to women but she's so beautiful it's insane, it almost qualifies as a deformity. Looking into her face is just confusing. Many other people there were startlingly beautiful. The director of the movie I was there for is someone I had seen on screen many times, and I always perceived him to be kind of an ordinary nerd, but in person he was enormously charismatic and sharply dressed and groomed and he had fully transformed into fucking George Clooney or something, I almost wasn't sure I had the right guy.

I also saw two other actresses-of-a-certain-age who looked so much better standing in front of me than they did in the movies I'd just seen them in, I honestly felt like I was tripping on acid. One of them was Alicia Silverstone, who sat in front of me at a different screening; she wore a highly reflective plastic tube dress and stiletto heels that were almost entirely transparent, and she had to be helped around by her entourage. The aforementioned actress I would be interviewing was also having a lot of trouble locomoting in her amazing Glenda the Good Witch getup, she too needed to be attended by aides. It occurred to me that maybe when your career is (in part) being extremely glamorous, you have to do these things that cripple you, you have to be strapped into these hobbling appliances and carried around to formal appearances. There is something fascinatingly morbid about this.

My panel was really great. I knew I was killing it. All my jokes landed with the audience and I got the film cast and crew in a really good place right away. It was late on the Sunday, the last screening of the festival, and everyone on and off the stage was exhausted until I wound them all up, which I consider a significant personal achievement. Everyone thanked me in this moving way and some stranger on the street told me I did a good job. I was aware that this was my introduction to quite a number of people, including several recognizably established folks who have certainly been vaguely aware of who I am and what I do, but now they've all seen me at full power and I could tell they'll remember it.

When photos of the event started turning up, that was NOT so thrilling. I was a complete mess and I didn't even know it until it was too late. It's probably GOOD that I didn't realize it earlier, when I couldn't have done anything about it. I found myself looking in the mirror at home, where things seem not so bad somehow, and trying to match what I saw there to the person that everyone's camera saw. It was pretty shocking, but I have to say that it wasn't a complete downer. I had the feeling that I can see what I need to do, and that is positive in and of itself. I might not have even realized the degree to which I need to take better care of myself if this hadn't happened, at least not for a while. Right now everything needs to change. My house needs to change, my state of employment needs to change, my body needs to change. If I can treat these things like hobbies, like projects I am authoring, rather than like obligations or fuckups I need to fix, then my chances of success are strong.

[tiktaalic]

better than revenge is for sure. a song. can’t wait for when she has to re-record it. also as I too was listening to it over the past few days I had a vision. I think someone needs to be like taylor . taylor I know how we can make this hashtag feminist. what if the revenge is you make the girl fall in love with YOU over your ex-whatever. men were already unimportant in this particular instance. and as this conversation is going down I am a fly on the wall listening in. this would be funny to me. also in a world where it could really happen it would be funny to see some people use it as a concrete evidence for gaylor and others go no. she just wanted to make us sure she is not a misogynist anymore! could fuel some great tumblr posts

i love thinking up ways to bully taylor swift into making songs people would hate. i think if i #manifest hard enough then her next album WILL be about her personal life and it WILL be about how getting divorced sucks but being flirty thirty and thriving rules and there WILL be the classic pop girlie song that goes. i broke up with my boyfriend... and you were there to pick up the pieces... i spend all my time with you now... i love going out with you... i love dancing with you... i am so glad i found my soulmate who would have thought that she is a woman.... and she is ME! Self love.

[hostradio]

It would seem Alex fell asleep while he and Alarie were talking on the couch. Ending up slumped over on Alarie's shoulder asleep.

it  happens  unexpectedly;  the  radio  demon  turns  away  for  just  a  moment,  humming  thoughtfully  beneath  his  breath  as  he  tries  to  recall  a  specific  quip  about  his  outfit  some  fool  had  the  AUDACITY  to  spit  at  him.  (  before  he  stripped  the  flesh  clean  from  their  bones  and  made  a  lovely  meal  of  it.  )  alarie  has  been  dominating  the  majority  of  the  conversation  for  quite  a  while  now.  not  that  it  bothers  him,  of  course;  he  loves  to  talk  —  to  a  degree  SOME  objectively  wrong  FOOLS  would  consider  a  flaw!  that  being  said,  alex's  dwindling  participation  hadn't  gone  entirely  unnoticed.  he  simply  assumed  his  dear  friend  was  so  enraptured  by  his  knack  for  weaving  a  most  amusing  tale  that  he  didn't  want  to  interrupt  him!  it's  easier  to  see  the  best  of  intentions  in  those  he  actually  holds  in  high  regard.

but  no.  an  unfamiliar  weight  suddenly  slumps  against  him,  shoulder  seeing  unexpected  use  as  a  pillow  —  and  the  radio  demon  freezes.  his  mind  takes  several  seconds  to  piece  together  what's  actually  happening.  it's  a  new  experience;  physical  contact  is  ordinarily  something  that  makes  his  skin  crawl,  but  here  he  learns  that  he  doesn't  exactly  find  this  intolerable.  even  more  unusual  is  the  thought  of  another  person  actually  falling  asleep  in  his  presence.  that  simply  doesn't  happen  —  and  why  would  it?  to  be  at  rest  is  to  be  at  one's  most  vulnerable.  alarie  doesn't  sleep  around  others  for  precisely  that  reason.  (  though  in  all  fairness,  he  hardly  sleeps  much  to  begin  with.  )  perhaps  there  is  some  deeper  meaning  to  be  gleaned  from  alex  falling  asleep  like  this,  but  he  isn't  sure  what  to  do  with  that  information.

❝  ... ❞   eyes  narrow;  he  exhales  a  soft  huff  —  exasperated,  though  in  a  manner  clearly  more  fond  than  annoyed.  why  are  you  having  guests  over  if  you're  too  tired  to  entertain  them?  alarie  wants  to  scold  him.  you  fool.  yet  he  doesn't,  because  for  whatever  reason,  some  part  of  him  thinks  waking  alex  now  would  be  a  touch  too  CRUEL  even  by  his  standards.  strange.

a  twitch  of  the  wrist  sees  a  book  manifesting  in  a  flicker  of  emerald  flame.  at  the  same  time,  a  diminutive  creature  made  of  shadow  manifests  with  the  express  purpose  of  gently  draping  a  blanket  over  his  alternate's  shoulders  before  it  dissolves  into  intangible  mist.  alarie  supposes  there's  nothing  in  his  itinerary  for  the  day  pressing  enough  to  require  his  immediate  attention.  may  as  well  catch  up  on  a  bit  of  reading  while  he  has  the  chance.

in  all  likelihood,  he's  going  to  be  there  for  a  while.

[jon-mcbrine-author]

Discussing your desire can be embarrassing. Exposing your ambitious passion can often times make you feel as if you’ve mutated into cringe incarnate. The dream that accompanies every waking thought - which essentially dominates your brain to the point where it’s difficult to talk about anything other than your creative goals - is the same concept you suppress from casual conversation. If these fantasies and lofty career aspirations make up such large portions of our gray matter (and can even feel physically beyond, seemingly flowing within our whole body’s bloodstream), then why is it sometimes awkward to publicly display?

The reason for me (most of the time) is to not sound pretentious. Who am I to boast of any ideas? Have I sold a bajillion copies of anything? Compare and despair plays a big part in my hesitancy to share my deepest daydreams of making it big as an author. I don’t want to sound like the middle-aged dude in a go-nowhere band, or the man-child all-day gamer. Even writing that makes me feel like I should apologize and that I don’t have anything against late-in-life goals or hobbies. Heck, I fit the bill when it comes to both, though I’m not much of a gamer, and a lot of my extracurricular activities are brainless time-wasters. A large chunk of my hobbies, though, are ultimately contributing to an even huger target. Still, the creative pursuit can at least look like a frivolous endeavor that friends and family humor. Writing fiction is, of course, a passion of mine, but it’s also a frustrating one when there isn’t much in the way of instant gratifications.

A lot of the time I resist the urge to indulge in my author-related projects unless the topic of conversation is initiated by someone else. Despite having a legitimately intrigued audience, I will still attempt to limit the info-dump I’m avalanching upon the well-meaning yet unsuspecting person. The self-censor is partially out of politeness but mainly for myself to not sound like an utter weirdo. Recently, however, I had the gift of a certain kind of freedom - a liberating moment where I could fully immerse myself in inspiration.

This flow of exciting ideas was a silent, internalized experience - and brief - but it was a welcome release of fretting over any outward appearances. No, there wasn’t an opportunity to shout these story ideas from the rooftops, but my mind’s unraveling of characters and their fantastical actions didn’t need to be anything other than an interior wandering. Normally, taking a trip into my “mind palace” would be reserved for spare moments throughout the day or perhaps a random idea would manifest itself within my brain and I’d follow for however long I could before resuming whatever daily work or routine I’d be doing at the time. This particular instance from only a few days ago at the time of this writing occurred at a time where it was appropriate and okay to mentally lose myself in a sequence of scenes for a piece of fiction I’ve been developing. My muse in this case was none other than the ocean.

Beach vacations are known for the relaxing times of peaceful meandering and/or serene introspection. My recent trip provided these things, sure, but like with many excursions, there are planning elements, as well as the stress of navigating through a different environment. My sandy getaway may not have offered as many thought-clearing states as I may have liked, but the idyllic moments the vacay did offer were priceless gifts.

I stood knee-deep in cool seawater, enjoying the mercifully mild weather, and permitting myself to know that at that very moment, my situation was a safe and acceptable one. I had achieved the stress-free comfort that soothing shorelines are capable of giving. It was during a time where few others occupied the beach, so the atmosphere was even more freeing. Even the stronger waves’ crashing carried dulcet tones, and the soft breezes blew around my body, reminding me of how wonderfully insignificant I am in the grand scheme of things - while simultaneously assuring the importance of me and everyone and everything else. It’s a good place to be.

The moment evaporated as it reached what was apparently its natural conclusion, but I was gifted the time of mental exploration. Undisturbed yet swirling with activity like the ocean itself, I allowed for some unadulterated imagining. I believe what made this experience more noteworthy than any other time I happen to think of soothing that would be cool to throw into a story is that this was fully acknowledged and embraced. At the risk of coming off as strange or humiliating myself with “gee whiz” naïveté, I am publicly posting this blog that may or may not get read. Cringe or no cringe.

Stay in the loop for more details by following Jonfiction Blog on Substack and be sure to check out jonmcbrine.com for more info about this and all my books.

Unsecret Identity: Eric Icarus - Book One is available now from the Amazon Kindle store.

https://a.co/2XAtxvH

New blog every Monday. Newsletter first Monday of every month.

[shalomniscient]

ok i’m in shalom delusion land no one listen to a word that comes out of my whore mouth if you’re looking for faithful characterisation, BUT

shalom would do anything, anything for her child. we’ve seen the lengths she went to for chief, and that vicious, ruthless determination only increases when it’s about her child. her family. no one will ever take anything from her again. there would be no man, no god out of her reach. shalom would gladly see the world fall to pieces around her, stand in the ashes and laugh, if it meant the safety of this little life she’s managed to claw back and build for herself. she had to fight tooth and nail for the privilege of loving, and she will fight tooth and nail to keep it.

when shalom first holds her child, her child, she cries. she doesn’t sob or wail, and honestly if you weren’t looking closely you wouldn’t even notice. even calling it crying would be a stretch. but she stands by your bedside, her baby cradled so gently in her arms, and sheds quiet, wordless tears. her heart feels so full it could burst. her body doesn’t know what to do with all the sheer emotion she’s feeling so it manifests in salty teardrops slipping down her pale cheeks. her baby is barely a few minutes old, yet she’s already wrapped around their tiny little finger. there’s not a thing in this world she wouldn’t do for them.

dramatics aside, i think shalom is unintentionally funny as a mom. like she would NOT do baby talk, she just doesn’t see the point. when her kid is barely a few months old she’d be holding full-on conversations with them, going back and forth as she casually talks with her baby about the political climate of discity or some other obscure adult thing. the baby of course doesn’t understand shit but with the way they look up at shalom, utterly entranced by their mother’s voice, a part of you wonders if they really do, somehow.

also, maybe paradoxically, any kid of shalom’s will grow up to be probably the most emotionally mature person out there. NOW HEAR ME OUT, shalom had her emotions taken from her as a child. she never got the chance to truly feel things, always being an outsider looking in through a window. so when she has a kid, probably her foremost desire is to ensure they feel as much as they can. so shalom doesn’t coddle her kids or let them shy away from emotionally intense situations. she will protect them obviously and ensure they don’t get hurt, but after the event, whatever it is, she’ll make sure to sit her kid down and just talk about what happened and how it made them feel.

like i said before, shalom is so, so weak for her child. even worse, your child knows they’ve got their mother wrapped around their finger, and that their mother has you wrapped around her finger. so essentially, if your kid wants something but you’re not getting it, they’ll go to shalom, and shalom will pretty much become their attorney until they get what they want. they’re so vicious together, little devils, but you love them nonetheless. speaking of, her kid definitely grows into a sly little shit just like their mother.

shalom keeps a beautiful flower garden in your home, and one of her favourite things to do is sit amongst the blooming flowers and enjoy the fragrant scent. maybe she’ll even pitch a cute little tent (or get you to do it) and she’ll sit there together with her child and read to them. shalom has a rather frail constitution, so she won’t be running around or rough-housing with the kid, but she’ll be there. always.

shalom attends each and every event that her child is involved in (in part because i HC her to have ‘retired’ from being a hush after being ‘arrested’ by chief, so she’s kinda sorta functionally unemployed which means a lot of free time for family!). she takes hundreds of pictures when she can using her camera, and if she’s not allowed to at the venue or something, she’ll commit every detail to memory. shalom doesn’t react loudly or boisterously, but she will definitely make sure her child knows just how fucking proud she is of them. it’s written all over her face.

despite being ‘retired’ in a kind of ‘dishonourable’ way, as someone formerly from paradeisos, shalom’s words and actions still hold a large weight—a fact she shamelessly abuses at PTA meetings. god help any parent or teacher who would even think of falsely accusing her child of something like bullying, or if they were discriminated against because one of their parents, you, were not from eastside. while shalom loves her current life, a part of her does miss the absolute mindfuckery of her work as a hush. so messing around with stuck-up, self-centered parents at the PTA meetings until they’re near tears or ready to tear out their hair is the closest she’ll ever get to something like that again. for the most part you just let it happen. the whiplash from seeing shalom in hush mode to doing a 180 and becoming loving mother and wife confuses and scares the shit out of some people, and you both find it immensely funny.

shalom’s not perfect, though. she can be a little harsh at times, maybe even distant. she’s still acclimatising. getting used to feeling again. she’s trying, and sometimes it’s difficult. she hates making her child sad, even if it’s for a warranted reason—which it must be, because it’s very, very difficult to make shalom angry. when this happens she tends to withdraw into herself, and you have to coax her back out again. tell her she’s not a bad mother for getting angry—just a human one. she’ll reconcile with her child by the end of the day. she loves them too much to stay angry for long, and that night will usually be spent with all of you in bed together cuddled close, shalom holding her child in her arms, and you holding her.

shshgshshskaksns in conclusion, shalom

PTN WOMEN AS PARENTS PT. 2 | Various

PAIRING: Anne x Afab!Reader, Cabernet x Afab!Reader, Coquelic x Afab!Reader, Garofano x Afab!Reader, Shalom x Afab!Reader.

WARNINGS: Fluff, SFW, Children, LMK if there's anything else!

AUTHORS NOTE: Here's part 2! I'm definitely making this a mini series and I'm gonna try to write a part for each PTN women (that I write for). Once again dedicated to the lovely @prisoner-of-sin.

✧ ANNE

• Anne is one of the most caring mothers, truly putting her childrens needs before hers regarding anything. Nothing is more important to her than making sure your kids have a happy childhood.

• It's common thing for Anne to call you and your kids during the day if she's away as a medic on a mission or is swarmed with caring for the injured at the Bureau.

• She hates being away from you and your kids for too long, an aching to have you and them in her arms a constant loom over her. So when she finally gets home, be prepared for her to shower you all in love and affection.

• She loves to have your kids in her arms, having them wrapped up and secured -- especially when they're babies. She doesn't like to be separated from them for too long when they're so fragile at that age.

• People would say Anne is quite a clingy mother, and while that is true, she can't help but want to always have your kids by her side. It's definitely gonna be tough for her to let them go when their old enough.

• She loves to look through your kids baby photos and she loves to take them. She almost always is taking photos of your kids because she wants to try and capture every moment of their life.

• No matter what path your kids end up taking when their older, Anne is always going to love them unconditionally, and she's always going to hold on to them in some sort of way, because no matter she won't be ready for when they leave the nest.

✧ CABERNET

• Cabernet is quite a fun loving mother. She values having fun with her kids and pushing them to always have fun themselves. She cares for them deeply and does everything in her power to give them a good life.

• Be prepared for Cabernet to turn your children into mini food critiques -- specifically critiques on the food you make. It's adorable at first when your children taste test your food, but it can be a little annoying after awhile when all they give you are negative reviews.

• Cabernet doesn't quite have the guts to tell you herself if the food you make for dinner is... unappetizing to her. Because of this, she'll usually send one of your kids to taste test your food, leave and report back to her on how it tastes and then send them back to critique you.

• You learned pretty quickly what she was doing, and each time she'd continue doing it, you'd hold a blank face, eyes glancing at the entry to the kitchen with a glare as you watched her quickly dip her head around the corner.

• Despite the whole thing being a headache to you, you can't help but find it amusing on how she uses your kids to critique the food you make. It brings a smile to your face when you think about how Cabernet doesn't have the balls to tell you herself.

• Something Cabernet loves to do with your children is cook. She doesn't do it often, but when she does, she's sure to turn your kitchen into a full on cooking show as she had your kids running around helping her make things.

• It's adorable, because they all wear matching aprons and chef hats, matching as they make an unintentional mess of the kitchen. Once they finish, prepare for the kitchen to look like a hurricane swept through.

✧ COQUELIC

• Coquelic is a great balance for a mom. She can be stern yet supportive. She pushes her kids to pursue what they want to do in life, while still pushing them towards her own interests.

• She tries her best to get your guys children interested in gardening, or at least have them understand the beauty of plants. If one of your children is interested, she's over the moon with happiness! Sharing something in common that she loves with her child is a gift she cherishes.

• If one of her kids isn't as interested in gardening or plants, Coquelic is alright with that. She doesn't want to be the type of mom that pushes her interests on her kids, she wants them to love what they love, she only wants them to try her interest out once and see why she loves it.

• Coquelic will raise your children within the Garden -- with your approval -- and something that comes with that is your children having many aunts. The assassins in the Garden care for your children as much as you both do, watching out for them whenever you both can't.

• Something she'll do is teach your children srlf defense from a young age. She wants your kids to be able to defend themselves in situations where you both won't be there to protect them. It gives her peace to know her kids can defend themselves.

• Be prepared for your children to be miniature Coquelic's. For some reason your kids just have her personality, and the older they get the more that becomes apparent.

• Something that will happen often to you is being on the end one of your children's "pranks," something that Coquelic will have a hand in helping them with.

✧ GAROFANO

• Garofano, despite her older age, has always wanted to have children of her own. She may be older, but that isn't gonna push her away from wanting and having kids with you.

• When you do finally welcome your first child into the world, know Garofano is going to treat them so gently and delicately, holding them as if they could break at any moment.

• She loves sitting back in a chair, with one of your kids in her arms or sitting in her lap. She'll be reading a book or sewing/stitching up something for them while they read or play with their toys.

• When they're a bit older, she'll want to teach them how to sew. Whether they're interested or not, she wants thdm to have the skill, so she'll sit them down and take delicate time in teaching them everything, helping them whenever they get stuck.

• She also adores making your kids their own clothes. You can commonly find Garofano sitting in her sewing room making a new sweater or scarf for your kids, the look of pure love swirling in her eyes as she works.

• Because of her older age, it's common for her to get tired quite easily when your kids decide to be more rowdy. If she has to run around the house to catch one of them, expect her to collapse into a chair to try and catch her breath quite a few times.

• Though just because Garofano can get quite tired when your kids get a little crazy, she doesn't regret having kids with you for one second. This was the best decision she ever made after all.

✧ SHALOM

• Shalom -- despite being a horrible and downright evil woman -- is an amazing mother. She's tender and loving to each one of your kids, prioritizing them no matter what.

• She takes great care in teaching her kids all about the world, from the good to the bad. She doesn't like glossing over the horrible things life holds, because she wants her kids to be know and be prepared for anything.

• When they're older, she'll be more direct about the bad. She won't do what she did when they were young and put it into a fantasy scenario. No, she'll tell them what the world holds, and sometimes will even show them.

• Besides preparing her children for the real world, Shalom loves spending some quality time with each of them. She'll take time out of her day to sit down and do what they want to do.

• If they want to have a tea party, Shalom is going to be sitting at their little table, holding perfect manners and taking their play time seriously as they pour her "real" tea.

• If for some reason she's gone during the day to deal with... matters, she's going to try her hardest to be home for your kids bedtime. She'll arrive home just in time as your tucking them in, and she'll be grabbing a book to read to them before they sleep.

• Because of what she does Shalom's made plenty of enemies in her life, and she's always prepared for one to go after her family. If someone does though, you better know they aren't getting away with it -- she's going to make sure they suffer and use them as a warning to everyone else.

ENDING NOTES: Ugh, this is so fun to write! I may love writing smut more than fluff, I can't help but enjoy the times I do write it. Especially now when I'm writing very degenerate smut for December. Anyway, lmk which women you'd like to see in PT. 3.

[satoriberry]

niko ikki crushing on you!! :>

❥ summary: headcanons with a pining niko [requested by anon]

❥ pairing: niko ikki x gn!reader

❥ watch out for: nothing!! just cute stuff with some crack + reader is oblivious asf btw not proofread

- let me preface by saying that i love this guy so much

- ok lets start

- you're a student at his school and you just happen to catch his attention

- maybe it was your charm, maybe it was the kindness that you treated everyone with unconditionally, but whatever it was, it pulled on his heart strings and made him a sucker for you

- you're just so perfect and beautiful and AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA <- representation of his thoughts about you

- everytime you walk past him, he just feels the urge to turn around and pull you into his arms but he can't because no.

- that's not how real life works

- even if you're not in the same class as him, he'd still try to find where you're hanging out in the school so he can sit far away and.....observe you.

- he does that a lot. his afro allows him to hide his eyes so you wouldn't tell whether he was staring at your or not

- doesnt have the courage to talk to you directly, but whenever he can, he tries to join conversations with mutual friend groups. he gets to hear your voice more closely :)

- he's an avid anime watcher (canon) and what he watches is influenced by his current life status

- so when he falls for you, you bet your ass he's watching all them cheesy shoujo anime where the male love interest is a suave, cool hottie so he can project onto him

- but at the same time, he feels so cringe because he thinks you'd definitely see him as some kind of weird loser with no social life

- tries to understand you by piecing together stuff his friends and classmates say about you, like favourite colour, food, celebrity, movie etc

- buys merch of your favourite band in hopes that it'll catch your attention and you'll walk up to him to talk :(

- he's bad at dropping signals and thinks that the most subtle gestures will attract you. they don't. you're too fucking dumb.

- his friends tease him for that a lot

- "bro, doodling their favourite character on your notebook will not make them notice you" "shut the fuck up, you don't know shit."

- seriously, he's so romantically inexperienced and doesn't know how to go about it

- during a particularly windy day, his bangs flew up and revealed his eyes when you were sitting on the rooftop (him alone and you with your friends). he ran off from embarrassment but left behind the book he was reading

- later that day, you walked up to him to return his book and while doing that, you slipped a complement about his eyes and how they were cute

- he screamed into his pillow when he got back home.

- but!!!! he can now talk to you!!

- buys your preferred candy by "accident" and gives it to you because "he pressed the wrong button on the vending machine"

- loves the little smile you wear when enjoying it ♡

- started to give you little acknowledgement nods when crossing each other in hallways. his brain melts when you nod back with a grin

- he daydreams about you a lot and even does that dreamy sigh thing with his cheek against his palm

- he....

- he has a manifestation journal and sporadically writes affirmations with your name in them...

- anyways.

- wants to invite you to soccer practice so you can watch him pull off sick tricks but doesnt know howwww >:/

- asks his friends to say good stuff about him so you can think he's cool

- "yeah niko regularly helps at a cat shelter", "he tutors my brother every sunday", "ive seen him adopt strays"

- at some point they started to say some ridiculous things so he had to force them to stop 💀💀

- watches your mannerisms closely and subconsciously copies them

- the way you open your drinks, tap your feet against the floor to make sure your shoes fit right, pop your neck in specific directions

- when he realizes what he's doing, he buries his face in his hands and lets out a high pitched scream with his face turning into a dark shade of pink

- gets really mushy when thinking about you, writes your name in hearts a lot

- turns into a mess when you're cheerfully talking to him about something you like

- once caught you napping in the library and took it upon himself to sit next to you and make sure nothing bad happens

- by the way that's a lie because nothing that bad could've happened and he wanted to gaze at your calm sleeping figure

- literally squealed as he watched you softly adjust your head on your arms

- so. we can conclude by saying that niko is really awkward when it comes to you and he has some pretty unorthodox methods of expressing his feelings, but he never loses hope that, maybe one day, you'll see him in the same light (he's a dumbass that can't see you already do)

[defectivevillain]

under the bright sky

pairing: severus snape x reader

summary: “You and Severus are getting along swimmingly,” Minerva repeats, stirring her tea and taking a sip. There’s a knowing gleam in her eyes and a small smile on her face. You resist the urge to get up and walk away. Running will make you seem all the more suspicious.

The reader’s race & gender are ambiguous; no pronouns or physical descriptors are used. 

This fic is the second part of my heartburn series. It’s not necessary that you read that before this, but it will provide some context. [Basically, you’re a professor at Hogwarts and the Hufflepuff Head of House.]

word count: 1.4k | ao3 version

“I don’t understand what you’re getting at here, Minerva,” you say, crossing one leg over the other and leveling a glare at Minerva. She isn’t the least bit intimidated, of course. You exhale slowly, taking a biscuit from the tray she provided. Her office is warm and cozy. You find yourself visiting the Transfiguration professor every few days. She’s great company and has a sharp wit. You just wish you weren't on the receiving end of it sometimes. 

“You and Severus are getting along swimmingly,” Minerva repeats, stirring her tea and taking a sip. There’s a knowing gleam in her eyes and a small smile on her face. You resist the urge to get up and walk away. Running will make you seem all the more suspicious.

“What, because he tolerates me?” You eventually settle for a mix of bewilderment and suspicion. You’re not liking the turn that this conversation is taking. It’s quickly heading into unpredictable territory. 

“That’s more than what can be said for most,” Minerva responds, looking at you coyly before taking another sip of tea. You take a deep breath, before leveling her with an exasperated glance. 

“Minerva…” you sigh. She places a hand on your shoulder reassuringly. There’s a familiar knowing look in her eyes and you hate it. Every time you see that gleam in her eyes, you know you’re missing something. You sigh before turning to the doorway. “Whatever. I've got some papers to grade and a practice to oversee. See you at dinner.”

As you leave the room, you feel Minerva’s eyes on your back. You shake your head in disbelief and send her a wave over your shoulder, before closing the door behind you and walking out into the hallway. Hufflepuff is scheduled for Quidditch practice in a few minutes, and you decide to make your way over to the field early. To your surprise, when you arrive, there is already someone waiting for you: a certain dark-haired, all-black-wearing professor. 

“Ah, Severus,” you remark, ambling over to him. You make sure to maintain a steady distance from him—not too close, but not too far—so you don’t make him uncomfortable. “What are you doing out here? I thought Hufflepuff had the field.”

Severus wordlessly shows you the Quidditch field schedule, which has been scrawled on a piece of parchment. You squint at it for a moment, your chest filling with dread as you realize that today’s date has “Slytherin” listed next to it.

“Oh, sorry,” you grimace, feeling mildly embarrassed at your error. You avert your eyes and manifest an interest in the field in front of you, the grass at your feet, anything but Severus’s intent gaze. “I’ll just leave, then.”

“Slytherin can scrimmage Hufflepuff,” Severus suggests quietly. It takes you a moment to process the statement, but you manage to voice your agreement. Honestly, you’re shocked that he isn’t taking the proffered opportunity to get away from you. You walk over to the Hufflepuff team and explain the mixup. To your surprise, the team seems even more excited at the prospect of facing off against Slytherin in a practice match. You shake your head in disbelief and walk over to the spectator stands.

The game kicks off without much fuss. One of the reserve players from each team serves as the referee. Severus moves to sit down next to you—another surprising occurrence. You glance at him, but he doesn’t say anything. Shrugging, you pull out the parchments you had shrunk to your pocket and begin to read. Thankfully, Severus isn’t one for meaningless small talk, so you don’t feel pressured to keep your attention on the match.

Furthermore, the Hufflepuff team doesn’t really need your attention. One of the seventh years is the captain of the team and they lead the practices. If anything, you’re just the overseer. You like attending practice every so often, just to make sure things are running smoothly. Nonetheless, you're far from any formal leadership position. You’re not the biggest fan of Quidditch, either, so your role is minimal at best. 

A large shadow begins to block the sunlight, and you squint in order to better see the parchment in your lap. This particular essay neglects to include anything related to the assigned topic, and instead goes off on a tangent concerning runes and their role in Transfiguration. You sigh and pinch the bridge of your nose. A loud shout rouses you from your thoughts and you look up, only to find a Bludger hurtling straight at you. You close your eyes and brace for the impact. The last thought that runs through your head is the rather humiliating prospect of death at the hands of a student playing Quidditch. You can already see the Daily Prophet Headline: Hogwarts Professor dies at the hands of a particularly well-aimed Bludger!

A few seconds pass and your heart is racing out of your chest. You hesitantly open your eyes, only to find yourself entirely unharmed. Blinking a few times, you look down and notice the Bludger that had nearly knocked you out. It is cracked entirely in half. A Slytherin student flies down to you and you recognize her as Gemma Farley, the Slytherin Prefect. She seems to be on the verge of apologizing, but she catches a glimpse of something to your side and pales. You follow her gaze and inhale sharply.

Severus is standing next to you, wand extended and a scowl on his face. You slowly begin to realize just what happened. He just... saved you. There’s gratitude stuck in your throat and molded to the tip of your tongue, but you can't seem to get the words out. Fortunately, Severus seems intent to do the talking. 

“Twenty points from Slytherin, Miss Farley,” Severus snarls. You’re certain your mouth is hanging open now. Severus has always refused to take points from Slytherin, in order to offset the preferential treatment that some of the other professors engage in. In all your years working with him, you’ve never once heard him deduct points from his own house. At least, not until now. Gemma doesn't bother arguing, and instead turns back to her team and gets the match running once more. You’re still riding a wave of adrenaline and it takes every ounce of patience not to voice the questions on your mind. You are eventually rewarded for your patience, however. 

“You need to pay more attention,” Severus finally says, turning to stare at you. You suck in a breath. Suddenly, you understand how he is the most feared of the professors. If you were a student, you would be sufficiently intimidated by the look on his face. Fortunately, you’re a professor and you’re only mildly contemplative of your life choices now. 

“This essay is just... so riveting,” you smile unconvincingly. Severus must catch onto the lack of enthusiasm in your voice, because he turns to the side and almost seems to stifle a laugh. Admittedly, you’re starting to regret assigning all the students the same topic—the magical significance of the number seven. Ultimately, you’re reading the same thing over and over again. You exhale slowly before giving up and spelling the parchment into your pocket.

The rest of the match proceeds as expected. Slytherin just barely wins after their seeker snags the Snitch. You don’t bother to walk over to the Hufflepuffs, as their captain seems to have it handled. Severus remains a steady presence at your side, even as a few of the Slytherins glance back at him expectantly. 

“Thank you,” you murmur, unable to keep your thoughts from spilling out any longer. The only sign that Severus hears you is the stiff incline of his head. It’s such a subtle movement that you convince yourself you imagined it at first. “I mean it. I... definitely wouldn’t have noticed in time.”

“Save the grading for that mess you call an office,” Severus replies, crossing his arms over his chest. “Yes, Professor,” you salute sarcastically. Severus’s eye twitches and you chuckle. Unfortunately, the Potions professor isn’t nearly as amused as you are. He begins to walk back towards the castle, and you don’t bother to catch up to him. Feeling a bit devious, you cast a spell to amplify your voice and continue speaking. “Do you offer an extra credit policy, Professor Snape?” The Hufflepuff and Slytherin players alike look over to you in shock. Severus is still walking up to the castle, and you can’t see his expression. The Tripping Jinx he levels at you from afar gives you a hint of his annoyance, though.

next part

You, unable to hide your amusement: Come on, Professor! If you keep frowning, your face will freeze like that—”

Severus, practically snarling: Twenty points from Hufflepuff.

Hufflepuff students, looking at their House Points and sighing: I think our Head of House is losing more points than we are.

I love the idea of Severus doing stupid things like casting a Tripping Jinx. Idk, I think that Reader brings out his annoyed teenage prankster side. 

[elifalvey]

Elijah was able to piece together the context clues of the conversation that must have transpired before his arrival without Aslihan even having to say anything, and the confusion on his face already started to morph into a frown — which was probably more like a scowl, with the way that anger started to bubble up inside of him — by the time she confirmed his suspicions. Of course that idiot that he'd seen stomping around the hallway was the reason for her tears, and hell, he was probably the reason that the entire damn museum appeared to be walking on eggshells too. And of course he couldn't have shown up even just a few minutes earlier to bare witness to the interaction, the work of unfortunate timing landing the musician a front row seat to the aftermath instead. God, he wished that he was faster, was able to get here sooner. Protectiveness easily surged through him the longer that he watched her cry, each new word spilling out of her mouth breaking his heart more and more.

The first thing that came out of his mouth, before he could properly think the suggestion through, was a disgruntled, "Fucking dickhead, probably doesn't know his head from his own fucking arse. Do you want me to go talk to him?" Undoubtedly, it was an utterly horrible idea; any scenario where Elijah shared words with the man that had some semblance of power over Aslihan would surely only make the situation ten times worse. He'd have nothing nice to say, and it would be a disaster. However, he'd do it. He'd do it in a heartbeat as long as his girlfriend gave him the green light, more than pleased to let him know that there wasn't a scenario on this green Earth where she deserved to be talked down to like that. "Baby, no — you're not —" He exhaled a sigh through his nose, putting aside the tissues on her desk to grab both of her hands again. He squeezed reassuringly, held the pressure for a moment before he urged, "Aslihan, look at me. You're not a fuck up, okay? I can put every single cent I own on the fact that you didn't make whatever stupid mistake he's blaming you for — and you know what? Even if by some miracle you did, that doesn't mean he has any right to make you feel like that." He let go to grab the arms of Aslihan's chair instead, pulling her closer towards him as the wheels scraped against the floor. He pressed a kiss to her temple, keeping his lips close as he whispered, "Don't say that." It wasn't true. It was just a manifestation of insecurities that snuck up on her, and he knew that. "You're the perfect person for this project and you know it, honey. Fucking hell, this entire damn place could be in the palm of your hands tomorrow and you wouldn't even break a sweat about it. Whatever ugly thoughts you're thinking up there, they're not true. He's just —" he paused, unsure of which insult was the correct one here. Uneducated? Jealous? That was another reason why he wished that he'd come earlier, so he could've known exactly what he said in order to debunk it all. "— Ridiculous. Completely fucking ridiculous. Don't entertain it."

( @draslihanxfahri-bailey )

For as long as Aslihan can remember, she was extremely precise when it came to her work. She didn't care if she had to spend days upon days engrossed in one project, how many tabs on her computer she had to bring up and how many books, articles, and even documentaries she had about, or how many experts she had to contact to have her questions answered, nor how all of it could result in her lacking in sleep, food, or water consumption: whatever she had to do to perfect her project, she would do it. It wasn't exactly healthy; God knows how many times she's had to be reined in by Elijah so that she could take care of herself. But, that was the thing that left this having her head spinning: she was too meticulous with her work. She rarely made mistakes, none at all most of the time. So to have this happen? It was impossible for her to not beat herself up mentally over this. To question everything she could've gotten wrong, not stopping to wonder if maybe, just perhaps, the higher up had been wrong. Because as much as she was a perfectionist in her work, she was also the most critical of her work. Having to go through her project from scratch multiple times before being satisfied, always finding something that she hated or felt unsure about beforehand. Which also wasn't healthy. And Aslihan knew that. She was trying her hardest to work on this and to change her habits, to strive for perfection in a hopefully healthy way. But just one person made it so easy for her to crumble in herself. Over the past few years, she has made strides in becoming more confident in herself. To stop criticizing herself so much and to see that, yes, she was completely capable and was better than her self-doubts. So it was beyond frustrating that in just a matter of moments, she felt like she was her old self again.

Then there was Elijah. How the sight of him, even though she still felt upset over the whole ordeal, caused her to relax slightly. How his words caused her to smile just ever so slightly. How the touch of his hands and him guiding her to breathe lifted her heart. She nodded, trying to inhale and hold for a moment before letting go, repeating a few more times. Bringing his hand close to her lips to kiss his knuckles before letting him let go. The curator smiled softly as he wiped her tears away with the tissue, leaning into his touch while she continued the breathing technique. "That was one of the higher ups. He said that there was a massive mistake in the paperwork I worked on for the new wing, so he's naturally blaming me for it even though I am certain that I got everything right." Dark eyes began to sting again before she looked down, shaking her head and sniffling softly. "I don't know, maybe I did make a mistake. I'm certain that I got everything right, but maybe I didn't... I just feel like such a fuck up right now and am questioning it all." A thought crossed her mind and she froze. Swallowing a thick lump in her throat before, carefully, she whispered, "Maybe it was a mistake to have me curate this new wing as well. Maybe I'm the wrong person for it." ||📜@elifalvey

[mockiery]

how did jake 'i only front when we are dying' lockley learn to drive? also does jake have a legitimate driver's license and if so how the hell did that happen

*cracks knuckles* nOW THIS IS WHAT I'M FUCKEN TALKIN ABOUT

ahem. yes ok. fuck yeah.

Jake Lockley, my beloved. I think Jake has spent a lot of time aware of and checking in on/watching over Marc and Steven. I'm also a believer in Jake not fronting only when they are dying but when they are being self-destructive and are unable to handle/overwhelmed by whatever is going on. Marc can handle being under threat of death, and now, Steven can to a certain extent (though I doubt Marc would let him).

So, in short, Jake would absolutely find himself at the wheel, as a backseat driver in general, keeping an eye out. But, more specifically, I think Marc and his self-destructive tendencies may have manifested a time or two while behind the wheel, through reckless driving. Had a conversation today about passive influence, whenever you can see a bit of Jake bleeding through while Marc is fronting, and I think Jake for sure has done that with driving (scarab keep-away style).

Jake doesn't have a real license though. If he does, he used forged paperwork to get it. Forgery occured at some point, regardless. If he's got his taxi business (somebody's gotta make money around here, and part time gift shoppist job ain't cuttin it), then he had to do some forgery there, but Jake's got charm and tact that could make that happen with or without it.

I think the crux of this question is really down to if Jake has any life outside of saving Marc and Steven and I'm of the belief that yes, yes he has. More than he feels he should, but by and large not fucking enough.

The pieces of life, of living, that he allows himself, I think, he tries to excuse away as being for them. His taxi business, funding the others. Dressing in his own clothes/facial hair/hat, that's making himself visually different enough so people won't recognize them as him as easily. Going out to latin dance clubs? That's a little more difficult to excuse, but he tries.

final answer, his license is marc's but with a mustache and hat scribbled on the picture and his name white-outed and written over with sharpie send post

[fictionsmooches]

Touch starved | Reiner, Porco, Zeke

Reiner

Everything he’s been through has manifested itself in his need for simple touches, but also his hesitation to seek it out.

At first he couldn’t initiate the touches, he kind of just sat there and stared at your hands until you noticed and were like “ooh geez my hands sure are lonely!” And then you’d grab his.

After time he had no problem reaching down and placing his palm on the small of your back as you walked or talked to others.

He likes cupping your cheeks for no reason other then looking in your eyes.

Likes when you cup his face :”) makes him big soft

Reiner also likes interlocking your fingers as you make out.

“Reiner, you know you don’t have to be scared to touch me right?” He’d just look away, trying to focus on something else to look at. “ i know that.. its just i respect you. I don’t want you to think i see you as a piece of meat for me to grab” you could see the little tears pricking up in his eyes. “I know that Reiner. I never thought of you like that. I love you, and i know you love me-“ before you could finish your sentence he swooped you up into his arms and carried you into your room while you giggled. You spent the rest of the day tracing fingertips along your bodies.

Porco

This guy. This guy right here, he has no problem being needy.

In public he’s more discreet about it like grabbing your hand under tables, putting his arms around your shoulders, and interjecting himself into your conversations while offering his arm to hold.

In private, he’ll lay across your lap and place your hands on his OWN head for you to play with his hair.

When he plays video games, he asks you to sit on his lap facing him like his own personal spider monkey.

He likes when he can be the little spoon.

Grabs you by the hips to pull you closer >:)

“Porco! You’re so rough sometimes! I could have heart attack you know!” You’d half yell at him. “Yeah whatever (y/n). It’s not my fault youre always busy! Sometimes i just want to hold you! Is that so bad!” He hands were placed on each side of your hips. “Porco, youre such a baby sometimes. But youre my baby” you teased as he blushed. He peppered kisses all along your face and neck while his hands traveled along your sides.

Zeke

Shameless. Absolutely shameless.

This man is also needy but in a dominant way.

He likes when you’re cooking or doing anything basically, and snaking his arms around your waist.

Likes to pull you onto his chest to cuddle for no reason other than he needed it.

Sometimes he'll pick you up while you're doing mundane things and toss you onto the sofa or bed so you can be his little spoon and be like “you didn’t look that busy.”

When he’s had a long stressful day, he likes when you rub his back and shoulders while he vents.

You lay on top of him stroking his face with the tips of your fingers. “You have a nice nose.” You said touching the bridge. “Why thank you (y/n).” He chuckled. You brought your hands to his hair, playing with the blonde locks. “Admit it Zeke. You’ve gone soft for me, haven’t you?” You looked down into his eyes. “I think I have.” He says while swinging his arm around your waist, pulling you closer onto him. “Let’s just stay like this the rest of the day” he spoke softly.

[lacheri]

Okay so... you might not even take requests but I’ll give this a shot anyway bc I love everything you write. I fucked up at work big time today and I feel tremendously anxious and guilty. Which made me think... Levi scenario with gf reader messing up on the field? I know he’d prob be harsh af at first but maybe... some fluff in the end? ): only if you want ofc.

hi nonnie! sorry for taking a few days to write this! but I hope u like it <3 (sorry to hear about your bad day btw ):)

accidents and apologies

pairing: dom!Levi x sub!fem bodied reader

content: canonverse, impact play, mild choking, penetrative sex, unprotected sex/creampie, oral (f receiving), some humiliation/degrading, reader is clumsy and Levi is mean, minors DNI

wc: 3.2k

Fat tears sat in thick clusters on the brim of your lash line, a hiccupping sob racking your body. You were as good as dead, having possibly made the biggest fuck up of your military career thus far. Titans seemed like ants in comparison, the fly that buzzes by your ear that irritates you to no end. Levi’s odm gear sat in pieces on the floor, and somehow this loomed over you like the Colossal titan, maybe even larger.

The polish container sat forgotten on your captain’s desk, the wipe slipping from your trembling hands. Your bottom lip quivered, your lungs filling with air quickly as you slumped to the floor next to the shattered metal. Your off duty position of being Levi’s assistant was practically over, it had barely even begun. You had begged for this job for weeks now, only a few days into being his helping hand, you reflected on how poorly of a job you’d done.

It wasn’t enough you had gotten Levi’s tea wrong this morning, adding sugar to the steaming mug, thinking he’d like a change in taste. He didn’t, immediately spitting the liquid out, cursing you into guilt on the spot. To try to make it up to the ravenette, while he was on his lunch, you sat at his desk and began to organize his paperwork by date of importance. You felt pride as you finished with the three piles of stacks, putting fresh ink in his pot for his quill. However, Levi was horribly furious to see what your regret had manifested into. How were you supposed to know he liked his documents organized by date of assignment, not what was most important?

This was the cherry on top, Levi leaving for dinner, mentioning that his gear did need some polishing. Surely, you wouldn’t fuck this up, he thought as he closed the door to his office behind him. How wrong the man had been though. Within minutes, your fingers became slippery, losing your grip on the cold metal as watched in horror as it clattered to the floor, breaking on impact. It didn’t make much sense, how could it have broken? Wasn’t the gear meant to outlast a titan’s grip? Especially Levi’s trusty gear, you couldn’t fathom how his gear was now laying in pieces on the floor.

You sucked back your sob as you heard the creek of the door, your heart falling straight down to the pit of your stomach. Of course Levi would be back before you recite your apology a thousand times over in your head. You heard the thud of his boots hit the floor as he walked over, seemingly calm.

“Oi, what are you doing on the floor?” he barked out, you could feel his presence looming from behind you.

You turned your head up, his face blurry from the rush of tears in your eyes, “Sir, I am so sorry.”

His grey eyes flickered in front of you, finally taking notice of his broken gear. His lips twitched in a deep frown as he sucked in air through his nostrils harshly.

“Get up, cadet,” Levi spoked venomously, pinching the bridge of his nose with his fingers.

You hurried to your feet clumsily, trying your hardest to quell your cries from your throat. You faced him, head downturned, attempting to steady your racing heart rate and the tremors in your bones. Whatever control you thought you had slipped from your grasp the second your captain’s lips parted.

“Never in my life have I met someone as insolent as you,” the harshness of his words kept your eyes on his boots, fresh teardrops rolling down your cheeks. Levi was not going to speak to the crown of your head though, and his hand gripped your chin to force your eyes up, looking directly into his own. “You’re going to look at me while I talk to you, understood?”

You nodded, but this was not what Levi was searching for, “Your words, cadet.”

“Yes, sir,” it came out of your mouth as a squeak.

“You want to explain to me why my odm gear is broken?”

“It slipped,” you hiccupped, violently shaking under his fierce glare. “I couldn’t catch it in time. Captain, I’m so sorry.”

“You’re sorry?” he bemused darkly in disbelief. “This is the third time today you’ve fucked something up, and you’re just sorry?”

“I don’t know what else to say,” you were on the verge of hyperventilating as you stuttered your words out.

“Well, now you owe me new gear, and you’re going to personally pay for the expense,” Levi’s hand left your face as he backed away from you, sitting down at his desk.

You looked on in confusion, “Sir, I don’t have any money?”

“Then I guess you’re fired,” Levi tilted his head back as if bored now with the conversation. “You’re relieved of your military duties as well. We can’t afford to have someone as brainless as you in the Scouts.”

“Captain, please,” you raised your voice, arms wrapping around yourself to contain your shaking.

Levi’s eyes darkened, leaning forward to press his elbows on his desk as he leaned his head onto his intertwined fists, “Leave my office, now.”

This couldn’t be happening. You had no home to return to, having left it behind long before you joined the Training Corps. This was your life, your purpose, your friends were here. You finally felt like you had a place in the world here in the Scouts.

“I’ll do whatever I have to!” you begged, not moving a muscle. “Whatever I can do to stay!”

“Are you deaf or just an idiot?” Levi pushed onto his feet, striding over to stand right in your face as he spat. “Leave my fucking office, that’s an order!”

Your bottom lip trembled, and you felt so fucking pathetic but couldn’t stop yourself from one last attempt, “Please, sir. Don’t kick me out, please let me make it up somehow.”

Your brain took a moment to catch up with what had just happened as you were suddenly staring down at the wooden notches of Levi’s desk. He had grabbed your wrists in a fierce swiftness, pushing you face down, his hands now positioned against your spine to keep you in place. His right hand reached around to fumble with your belt, and your heart began to race for other reasons.

“Captain?” you stuttered, feeling him begin to pull off the belts stationed on your thighs.

“You think you can just beg me in that voice, looking like that, and expect me not to lose control?” his voice was thick with anger, but instead of fear, it tickled bouts of arousal in your lower stomach. “Answer me.”

“No?” it came out as a question, you pushed your thighs together as you felt a pulse run through your core as his fingers tickled the exposed skin of your lower stomach. “Sir, I’m confused, what’re doing?”

“Like you have no idea what you do to me,” Levi chuckled without humor. “You begged me to be my assistant even though you knew you weren’t going to be a good one. You think I wouldn’t notice, your little crush on me?”

It was true, so entirely true. Levi had been the object of your affection for such a long time now, taking every opportunity to get as close to the man as possible. If you were being honest with yourself, this fantasy of being bent over his desk was a constant distraction in your mind. He was right, you were shit at cleaning, you were probably the most clumsy person you knew, you really had no qualifications to be Levi’s aide, yet you still asked for the position.

“Then why’d you hire me, Captain?” the bratty words left your lips as it dawned on you, Levi had found you appealing regardless of your lack of qualities.

With a quick motion, your pants and panties were bunched around your knees, Levi’s palm meeting the now exposed skin of your cheek in a caress, “The same reason you’re fucking soaked right now, cadet.”

You stayed in position as Levi brought his other hand to your opposite ass cheek, fingers kneading the fat as he spread you open to his hungry view. He was right, you were dripping. His pointer finger ran down the seam of your ass, laying a soft touch to your hole, watching it flutter in excitement. He couldn’t hold back the smirk on his face, removing his touch entirely.

You whined, pushing your bottom closer to Levi’s hands, desperate for his touch. Your hips were slammed against the edge of his desk, his fingers digging firmly into the back of your thighs, pushing your legs back together. You felt a jarring sting on your backside, yelping in response as you could make out the distinct imprint of each of his fingers.

“You want to show me you’re really sorry?” Levi’s voice was low and raspy as he soothed his palm over the reddened mark he had made. “Tell me after every slap.”

You were able to brace yourself this time as you felt the strike of his hand once more on your opposite cheek, unable to contain your moans at the contact. You squirmed as you felt removal of Levi’s touch leave you, only to bite down on your tongue harshly as he swatted the back of your thighs much harder than he had on your ass.

“Don’t make me repeat myself,” he spoke ruthlessly as another slap hit your thighs.

“I’m sorry!” you cried, gasping for air from the impact.

“Again,” his hand smacked the fat of your ass again, his other hand smoothing over the harsh red blotches against your thighs in an attempt to soothe the pain.

“‘M sorry!” you were whining, knuckles white from gripping the opposite edge of the desk as you arched your ass up into his hold. Part of you was genuinely shocked over how much you were enjoying this, thoroughly aroused mentally and physically.

Levi couldn’t tear his eyes away from the sight in front him. The handprints scattered across your lower half had his cock springing to life, hard and painfully erect. His hands traveled down to your pussy lips, using his thumbs to spread you open. Your hole was drooling, Levi let out a deep groan at the sight. He couldn’t stop himself, he had to have a taste.

You let out a sputtered moan as you felt the tip of your captain’s tongue lick a stripe from your hole to your clit. You pushed your hips further into his touch, thankful he resisted in shoving you back into the edge of the desk this time. His fingers held you open and apart, his taste buds rolling circles into your clit before returning back to your flitting opening, shoving his tongue in your walls. You could feel it fold in half, almost in a cupping motion as he bobbed his head, lapping as much as he could.

“Oh my God,” you whined, thrusting a hand behind you to grasp at his hair. His palms circled to the fronts of your thighs, digging his fingers into the fat as he pulled you somehow closer as he buried his face further into your dripping heat.

You were seeing stars, in between the mix of the pain and pleasure, your brain was completely empty. Levi’s right hand left your left thigh for a moment, coming back with a softer slap, inching his fingers to your center. His pointer finger swirled your clit relentlessly, and your breathing hitched as you were brought to even higher heights than before. His thumb joined not long after, pinching and pulling at your bud as you yelped.

You could feel the beginnings of your impending orgasm as Levi twisted and lapped your walls. The burning churn in your lower stomach became almost unbearable as Levi’s fingers worked faster at your bundle of nerves, full of purpose and intentions. Levi could feel the sudden change, your pussy clenching tighter and tight around his wet muscle. Your arousal was thicker, almost muskier as he inhaled through his nose, and Levi could swear he could drink from your core as if you were the finest of wines.

At the first blinding rush of pleasure, your body preparing itself for the intense promise of release, the ravenette removed all touch. You were gasping for air, your entire body’s nerves tingling uncomfortably. You were aching, desperate for anything.

“Look at you,” the return of Levi’s palm slapping your ass was welcomed with a smile on your face, thankful for any form of touch. “Falling apart that easy?”

You mumbled out a 'sorry', remembering his earlier warning. Apparently this was the word Levi was searching for, spinning you around and attaching his grip to your hips, slamming your sore ass on his desk, shoving his paperwork to the floor. Your eyes widened dramatically, seeing Levi’s cock fully exposed out of the zipper of his trousers. He was thick, his tip red and angry as he moved his fist over his length, a quiet groan leaving his parted lips as he relieved some of his own pent up arousal.

“Open,” he demanded, removing his hand from his dick, extending his palm to your pouty lips. You complied, letting your mouth loll open as Levi’s fingers pressed against your tongue, rolling them around to coat his digits.

He pulled them out with a pop from your lips, returning his now dripping hand to his erection, covering the entire member in your saliva. He gripped the backs of your knees after he deemed himself properly lubed up, dragging you right to edge as he positioned himself.

His grey eyes flickered up, fiery and full of lust, his voice hoarse, “You ready?”

“Yes,” you mewled, your fingers wrapping around the edge of the wood to steady yourself.

Without a moment of hesitation, Levi held your legs up as he slid his fat tip along the slick of your folds. It was so wet, so sloppy, you couldn’t contain the whimper leaving your lips as he pressed into your sopping hole. You could’ve sworn you felt your soul attempt to leave your body as he slid in, resting his tip right against your sweet spot once he was fully sheathed, your eyes rolling back into your skull as the mind blowing pleasure. He hadn’t completed a full thrust before you were begging for more.

“Please, please, more,” you managed out in between gasps, Levi rolling his hips backwards.

“You want more?” he chided, ramming himself so hard, the two of you bounced from the impact. You nodded, unable to voice a single word, drool threatening to escape your lips. His fist left the comfort of your bent knees, coming up to squish your cheeks together, a dribble of spit glistening against your pout, “You’ll answer me when I ask you a question, brat.”

“Yes! More!” you strangled out, muffled from his grip on your face. He let go, placing a very soft pat to your cheekbone, almost as a reward.

“Atta’ girl,” Levi’s gaze turned dark as his eyes traveled from your eyes to the column of your neck. How pretty would you look with his fist wrapped around your throat?

The thought was threateningly persuasive as Levi found himself doing just that, squeezing the sides of your neck as he began to piston his cock between your folds. The sounds of slapping skin and your pussy squelching had you panting loudly, Levi’s fingers pressing harder into the sides of your throat. It felt so good, good wasn’t even the word to describe it. In fact, there weren’t any words in your brain at all, too consumed by the visuals of the ravenette plowing hard into you.

His hand left your throat upon seeing your eyes begin to flutter, his concern for your ability to breathe over taking his lust. Instead, he circled both his arms under your back, bringing you up into a folder position against his chest. He placed open mouth kisses along the curve of your shoulder, licking and sucking at any skin he could reach. Your ankles hooked around his waist, and you couldn’t hold yourself back from slipping a hand to your aching clit.

“Kiss me,” you pleaded into Levi’s neck as your middle finger rubbed hard at your clit, your thick slick coating the pad. You got curious, letting your hand trail further down, exploring the motion of his cock pummeling into you.

“Put your hands on my back, and maybe I will,” he growled out, displeased that he wasn’t the one bringing you total and complete pleasure.

You followed his orders with speed, his head navigated out of the crook of your neck, capturing your lips with a hasty passion. He tasted sweetly sour, the lingerings of your essence resting in the crevices of his lips, but still, you couldn’t get enough of his kiss. When his hand finally left the middle of your spine, and began to travel down to your center, you could feel the bubbles of climax igniting back in your stomach.

“Levi,” you moaned into his mouth as his fingers moved at lightning speed against your nerves, timed nearly perfectly with the pattern of his thunderous thrusts. The desk was squeaking loudly against the floor as he continued to pound into animalistically, moving it slightly with every move.

“Fuck, you’re so tight, gonna’ cum,” you swallowed his words as he somehow sped up his movements, driving you straight to your climax.

You couldn’t even warn him, you barely had time to realize you were cumming yourself. It almost hurt how tightly you had clenched his cock as the pleasure nearly blinded you, unable to hold back swears and moans. Levi kissed you harder, and upon feeling your contractions swallowing him whole, your plush walls pulling his tip right up against your cervix, his hips staggered and his knees buckled.

Levi’s brain went blank as his orgasm was ripped from him, “Fuck, fuck!”

Levi should’ve felt embarrassed at the noises that left his mouth, whimpers and soft moans exiting his throat as he came hard. It was almost too much, the feeling of your wet heat wrapping around his most intimate part, the closeness of your bodies, although still fairly clothed, had his heart hammering in his ears.

When you came down from your highs, all you could was stare at each other in astonishment, breathing heavily into each other’s mouths. He rested his sweaty forehead against yours, fluttering his eyelashes shut as he kissed you gently. You let out a sleepy giggle, your body entirely spent. His hand finally left the sensitive skin of your clit, wrapping your fingers around the back of your head as his kiss deepened.

When he finally slid his softened length out of the depths of your pussy, you were hissing at the fluttering of soreness intruding your pelvis. Levi shot you an apologetic look, kissing your forehead.

“Does this mean I can still be your assistant?” you mumbled, a small smile on your face as Levi reached down to pull his pants up.

His head tilted back as an uncharacteristic laugh bubbled out, flashing you a mischievous smile, “Get yourself cleaned up, and meet me back in my office. I still don’t believe you’re actually sorry.”

LACHERI © 2021: all writing content belongs to LACHERI. I do not allow reposts or translations. this is my only account.