#self indulgent content as per usual

[yuurionviktor]

“Moon, show me the way to the road of warmth, where

The lanterns burn endlessly at night, like the light of your eyes”

Highly recommend listening to the song for the vibes 🤌 also translation under the cut

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Meet the Family 7

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Your boss needs a last-minute favour for the holidays.(petite!reader)

Characters: Lloyd Hansen

Note: my gut said go full self-indulgent so I did.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Asking for more or putting ‘part 2?’ is not feedback.

Love you all. You are appreciated and your are worthy. Treat yourself with care. 💖

Your phone lights up again. You’ve already waited too long. You can’t avoid this any longer and in that moment, avoiding Lloyd’s family is a bigger priority. You get up, thankful to be away from Lloyd’s wandering touches, and excuse yourself to take the call. You don’t miss the scathing judgment from Gwenyth, but you don’t care either. 

You go out into the hallway and try to keep your voice down. There’s enough chatter that you’re not entirely concerned. You answer and close your eyes. 

“Hi, mom--” 

“Where are you?” She demands. “You said you would be here. I’ve been waiting. Calling. Your sister too. We’re all worried--” 

“Mom, I’m sorry. I missed my flight--” 

“Oh, yes, I couldn’t put that together,” she snaps. 

“I’m sorry, mom. Really. I know—I messed up again. I really wanted to come but that was the only flight--” 

“It’s not that you couldn’t make it, it’s that you couldn’t even let me know! I’ve been in shambles, thinking the worst. I check the flights to make sure there were no crashes, I’ve been looking through news reports.” 

She starts to devolve into breathy sobs. You feel horrible. Your guilt overwhelms your self-pity. Suddenly being stuck with these rich snobs isn’t so bad. Your mother has spent half her Christmas worrying over you, and know her, you wouldn’t be surprised if she actually tore some hair out. 

“I know I should have called. I’m sorry, I’ve been trying to figure something out,” you lie, poorly since the defeat is in your voice.  

Your mother has always been your kryptonite. She’s not cruel like Gwenyth, but her disappointment is devastating and all too easy to earn. She just wants the best for you but you’ve never managed the best. 

“So you can come?” She sniffles. 

“Um, not today, but I’m looking at tomorrow.” Another frail falsehood. “I promise, I’ll let you know--” 

“Sweet pea,” Lloyd’s voice undercuts yours and you cringe. You put your finger up and turn to signal him to hush. 

“Yeah, mom, I’ll try for tomorrow and if I can’t get there--” 

“Mom?” Lloyd echoes with a smirk. 

You shake your head. 

“Who’s that?” Your mom asks. 

You grimace and glare daggers at Lloyd as he comes closer. You outstretch your arm and put your hand just below his chest.  

“Mom, it’s just--” 

Lloyd easily reaches past your resistance and swipes the phone. He puts it on speaker with a tap of his thumb as you lunge at him. He grabs your arm and forces it up. Nearly dangly you from it as you lash with the other. 

“Is this mom?” Lloyd asks brightly. 

“Um, hello? Who is this? Where’s my daughter?” 

“Mom, I’m here. Lloyd, give me the phone back--” 

“Boo, what’s going on?” She asks. 

Lloyd looks at you with a mischievous grin and mouths ‘boo?’ with a tweaked brow. You shake your head again and plead. 

“Mom, it’s nothing--” 

“I think I spoiled the surprise,” he speaks over you. “We’re going to be coming tomorrow.” 

“We?” She ekes out, you hear the worry mounting in her voice. 

“Please don’t be mad at Pixie, she was just being a good girlfriend. We stopped by my family’s house and oh boy, the snow we got up this way,” he tuts in a very convincing monologue. You’re stunned into silence at his act. He sounds like a decent person but you know better. “And you know, everything was so hectic as we tried to dig out that it just got all ahead of us.” 

“I’m sorry, who are you? Boo?” She asks desperately. 

“Mom--” 

“Oh, I’m so sorry, I should’ve started with that. I’m Lloyd. Her boyfriend.” 

“Boyfriend?” You mother breathes, “boo?” 

“Yeah, mom, er,” you wrench your hand free and smack Lloyd’s arm. “He’s um, going to come with me, so uh--” 

“I’ll be there, both of us, with bows on,” he promises. “Please, allow me to apologise from the bottom of my heart for keeping your daughter from you. You can’t blame her. It was entirely me. I am not a morning person and she can only do so much to keep me in line.” 

You grit your teeth as you squint at him. How does he sound like such a dweeb? Well, looking at him with that mustache, he kinda is one. 

“Oh, well, that’s lovely, very nice,” your mother coos, “I can let everyone else know. Oh, boo, you could’ve told us--” 

“Again, that’s on me,” Lloyd preens, “I thought it would be a nice surprise.” 

“It is, it is,” she assures. “Oh, it will be so nice to meet you. We’ve never met any of Pixie’s men.” 

“Mom,” you groan. 

“We never really thought she had any. She’s always been so focused on work, and before that, it was school--” 

“Mom,” you jab Lloyd’s ribs as he smirks bigger and bigger, then snatch the phone from him. “Promise, we’ll get there but uh... gotta go. Love you.” 

“Love you too, boo. Oh and it was nice meeting you, um--” 

“Lloyd,” he supplies and sticks out his tongue. 

“Bye.” You hit end and put your phone in your pocket.  

Your agitation peaks and you can’t help from shoving Lloyd. It barely affects him which annoys you more. God, he is such a little—big turd. 

“Why would you do that?” 

“What? I just did you a favour.” 

“A favour? You just dragged my family into this bullshit--” 

“Well, hate to break it to you, boo,” he emphasizes the last word as he grabs your hands and pulls them away from his stomach, “but they’re going to have be. We promised mine a white wedding.” 

“You are so--” 

“So...?” He prompts. 

“Urgh.” 

“Oh, don’t be so grumpy. It’s a ticket out of this place. Literally. So you just let me know where I need to book tickets and I’ll pull a few strings--” 

“Strings? You couldn’t pull these earlier?” 

“On Christmas Day? Please, even I can’t do that but the day after Christmas, my guy’s getting into the punch right now, he’ll be just tipsy enough--” 

“You are torturing me,” you accuse. 

“I really can’t deny that,” he snickers as he lets you go. “Now tell me where I’m booking these tickets too and I’ll hop right on that...” he looks you up and down and bites his lip, “as much as I’d like to hop on something else.” 

You huff, “Toronto.” 

He twitches, “Toronto? As in... Canada?” 

You nod and roll your eyes. 

“Wait, Pixie puff, you’re Canadian?” 

You tilt your head and look at him. You shrug, “what does that matter?” 

“Well, I thought you type were supposed to be nice, first of all.” 

“Just make the call,” you sneer and cross your arms. “You’ve already mangled this Christmas, may as well put it out of its misery.” 

“Why don’t you do the same for me, huh? I’m suffering, Pix. Just give it a squeeze” he gets closer. You flutter your lashes then he wiggles his hips. “These pants are killing my circulation. I told you, I don’t wear underroos.” 

“Back up before I lose it,” you warn. 

“I’m close to losing it too, baby face,” he groans. 

“Make. The. Call.” You demand. “And I’ll happily break the news to your dear sweet mother that we need to go get ready to fly out.” 

His expression sobers and he exhales heavily, “Pix,” he utters quietly, “sometimes, you’re scary. Don’t... don’t piss off mom too much. Please.” 

“Book the tickets, honey poo,” you chime in an acidic tone, “and I’ll make sure mommy’s not crying into her champagne.”  

You poke centre of his chest and bounce on your heels before you spin away. Your mother’s disappointment might be like arsenic but Gwenyth’s is the exact antidote you need. 

❄️

“I know a girl in Toronto. A few actually,” Lloyd says over the steering wheel. He’s tasked with driving back to the hotel since you imposed sobriety on him as punishment for the day. “Strange, you’re nothing like them.” 

“I don’t care,” you grumble. 

“Ugh, your wheel is too low,” he mutters as he stops at a red and tries to adjust it. You don’t respond.  

You just want to lay down. Your head is pounding from the lack of sleep and Lloyd managed to book you an early morning flight which will curtail any meaningful sleep. You close your eyes and ignore his fussing. 

Finally, he steps on the gas. “So, Canada, you grew up with those geese, huh? Explains the bite--” 

“What?” 

“I read somewhere they have teeth--” 

“Why the heck are you moaning about geese for?” 

“I hear it now. Couldn’t place it before. I thought Minnesota or somewhere but when you’re angry, you get this twang--” 

“Be quiet,” you let your head drop back again. “I’m getting a migraine.” 

“Aw, baby,” he coos. 

“Lloyd,” you growl. 

“I can make it better. I read somewhere that you can massage it better. Oh, and you know, orgasms--” 

“You read a lot of nonsense for someone who I never see reading,” you drone and prop your elbow against the door to cradle your head. 

“There’s a wealth of information on the internet when you’re not scrolling porn,” he chuckles. You let out a disgusted noise. “Don’t worry, pixie. I’m committed to this. Me and you, we’re going to get our piece of the pie and make off like bandits.

"So you let me play the loyal husband. I’ll get you all spread out and loose, I’ll rub your head and your shoulders, then my hands might wander a little bit more...” he hums. “I’ll touch the peach a bit, I just can’t help myself, but I think you’ll be ready by then.” 

“Don’t you dare touch me,” you snarl. 

“Ah, come on, flying is so stressful and after the day we had, we both need that release--” 

“How many more times do I need to tell you to stop?” 

“And how many times do I need to tell you I won’t? It’s fate now, Pixie.” He clucks and slowly turns. You lift your head and look up at the hotel sign. “Hey, if you like the long game, I can go along with it. Make it hurt so good.” 

“Do you ever think of anything else?” 

“There’s a constant undercurrent that never really leaves my mind,” he shrugs as he parks. “But I’m great at multitasking.” 

You grumble and shake your head. It sends a throbbing pulse through your skull. You undo your seatbelt and drag yourself out of the car. As the door shuts, you wince. Then Lloyd’s and you feel the nausea start to crawl through your guts. The lack of sleep, the stress, the alcohol, it’s a perfect recipe for a deadly migraine. 

You do your best to push through as you make your way up to the room silently. Lloyd is not so quiet. He’s rambling about something; a shirt? You don’t know and you don’t care.  

You take out the room and enter the hotel suite. You drop the key and your purse and shed your coat. You hang it on the hook on the back of the door and tread further in. You don’t stop until you get to the bed. You ease yourself down and bury your face in the pillow. 

“Pixie,” Lloyd’s worry puts you on edge. You raise your hand and wave him off without lifting your head. “You need some Advil?” 

You shoo him again with your fingers. You popped some with your last glass of wine. You probably should’ve opted for water. 

Your alarm is set. You will have to awake before the sky shifts that slightly lighter shade of grey and try again. You know better than to trust Lloyd, but you’re putting some faith in him to get you home. 

You feel the bed dip behind you and Lloyd’s mutters and grumbles creep into your ears. You move the pillow over your head and hug it against your ear. You tune him out as you urge your mind down to the depths. In your bouts, there is no relief, but sleep can at least dull the agony. 

Your brain turns to sludge as the steady pounding evens out to a tempo. You drift into the muddy no man’s land between waking and otherwise. You’re conscious enough to feel the pain, but you're detached enough to bear it. 

Time crumbles around like sand in a glass. Your mind swirls with churning recreations of the day behind you. Most of them fractured and nonsensical. Voices without words, faces without names. 

A shiver washes through you as a tickle flutters down the back of your thighs. The cool sensation flows over your skin. You shudder and cling to that tenuous state of dissociation. A jolt forces you out of the void. 

You roll over and throw your arm out. It bounces off of Lloyd’s shoulder as your eyes slit. You yipe as you find him tugging at your pants. You kick and amplify the siren whining in your head. 

“What are you doing?” You rasp as you flail at him. 

“Relax, pixie stick, I’m just trying to help you relax. You can’t sleep in this,” he peels your pants down your legs and you swat at him again. 

You look down and find your sweater gone, only your bra to conceal your chest. You quickly hide behind folded arms. “What the hell?” 

“Damn, Pix, you never said you had a dump truck he untangles the fabric from your ankles. 

You whimper and push yourself up on your elbows, you bareness secondary to your irritation. “Get way from me.” 

“Just let me rub you down,” he begs as he runs his hands up your calves. “Promise, I’ll be a good boy. I kept my dick strapped down, baby.” 

Your eyes flit down unthinkingly. He’s in only his briefs. The rest of him is exposed; his fur-trimmed chest, his thick but firm stomach, and his muscled legs. You look him in the face and he winks. “Made you look.” 

“Stop, please,” you flick your fingers at him. 

“You got me struggling,” he begs as his hands trail further up and he kneads your thighs. “I’m hurting like prom night and you been grinding on me in a tack ballgown all night--” 

“Ew--” 

“It’ll make you feel better--” 

You catch his fingers as he traces the edges of your underwear. As you curl up, the weight of your head thunks own at the base. Urgh. 

“No--” 

“I’m just going to rub you down like a good boy. That’s it,” pushes against your hands. “You can even keep these on.” He runs his thumbs along the front of your panties. “They look fucking delicious anyway.” 

“Lloyd.” 

“Shhh,” he hushes you and shoves your hands off of his. 

Before you can stop him, he straddles you. He puts his large hands around your skull and you whine. H works his fingers into your scalp as he continues to shush you and presses his thumbs to your temples. The warmth of his tough makes you sigh. You hate that it feels good. 

“Just like this, baby,” he purrs as he keeps you pinned under him. “Just relax.” 

Your eyes roll back as you shatter to pieces. In this state, you have no strength to fight him. Besides, why should you stop him when it feels so amazing? 

[samuel-de-champagne-problems]

The Final Draft - Spencer Reid +18

Summary: Spencer and Reader have a perfect day together and cling to each other under their sweet nothings

Word Count: 4K

Content Warnings: incredibly cheesy and borderline saccharine, smut (oral sex- female receiving, sexual intercourse, dirty talk but very sweet and romantic, breeding kink but it’s like sweet and cute) basically this is entirely self fulfilling and indulgent

The Final Draft

My hair stuck to the soft cotton pillow case as I rolled over to my side. I landed into Spencer’s warm, welcoming yet sleeping figure. He hummed in his sleep, unconsciously enveloping me into his strong frame. With my chest flush to his, I gently wrapped your arm around his upper torso and casually draped my leg over his much longer ones.

He was always warm, nearly burning, when he slept. Long ago Spencer hand abandoned sleeping in a shirt, opting for either simply boxers or old, worn plaid pajama pants. His chest was smooth and strong, and each wrinkle, scar, stretch mark reminded me of all my years spent loving him. Sometimes, when I looked at him, it just reminded me that I was simply too soft for all of it. And Spencer Reid, just might be the softest and most gentle of them all.

“G’ morning,” Spencer mumbled, sleep was still evident in his voice, “how long did you stare at me for?” He asked.

“Not long enough to admire how pretty you are, fiancé” I quipped, reaching over to the night stand to put the shimmering ring on my finger.

“Let me,” Spencer interrupted, grabbing the ring and placing it on my ring finger himself. He smiled to himself and it seemed like it was one of those smiles that was intended to be private. I watched the way his lipped curved upward as he held my hand in his palm. He has always touched me with the most love and adoration, but there was something different about the way he touched my hand when he slipped my engagement ring onto my finger.

“There,” Spencer said, “It’s back where it’s supposed to be.” He kissed my hand, the sweetness of the gesture making an embarrassed heat crawl up my face and into my ears.

“You know you don’t have to do that every time,” you muttered, covering my face as if it could possibly shield me from Spencer’s unabashed affections.

Spencer swung his legs over my frame so his body caged mine. He kissed my hairline and then down to the bridge of my nose. I brought my hand to his cheek, brushing my thumb against his cheekbone. He closed his eyes at the gesture, basking in my gentle touch as if he could commit it to memory. And if there was a person who could, it would most certainly be Spencer. 

“I do.” Spencer said, the irony of his words not lost on either of me. He smirked, peppering kisses down my throat. “You’re going to be my wife. And I want to spoil you completely rotten with fancy jewelry and all the iced lattes and books you could ever want.”

“Hmm,” I said, brushing my hands through the mess of brown curls on Spencer’s head, “you sound like a man you want a handjob with the hand with the huge rock you bought me.”

“As tempting as that sounds,” Spencer started, he lifted up my sleep shirt to stick his head underneath the soft, cotton fabric and place wet kisses against my belly, “all I can think about would be the staggering amount of germs collecting on your ring. And I don’t think either of us want me focusing on the amount of bacteria per square nanometer on your ring while you're stroking my dick.”

“God, I love you and your weird, wonderful mind,” I laughed, hauling Spencer up by his face to finally kiss him. I felt teeth and his soft lips in the kiss. It was a mix of sweet and something less sweet, as it usually was when I kissed Spencer.

“Ha, thank you very much,” Spencer quipped back, quickly kissing your cheek as a chaste thank you, “but I’d much rather go down on you anyway.” He grinned in a smile that spread throughout his entire face and, of course, leaked to mine.

“And what about the germs from that, Spence,” you teased, knowing that even Spencer Reid could make a couple excuses for germs when it came to me.

“That’s neither here nor there.” Spencer said, brushing you off as his hands traveled down to my pajama pants, “How fond are you of these pajamas. Because I want you so bad, I’m ready to rip them to shreds to get your pussy.” He lamented.

His eyes bore fire into my belly as he stared at me down, clearly waiting for an answer. 

“Quite fond, honey. But there’s other things I’m more fond of, if we’re being honest here.” I confessed, dragging my fingertips up and down Spencer’s smooth chest. He had a dusting of hair that led down to where his pants hung dangerously low on his hips.

“Hmm, well you’re lucky because you're too cute for your own good in those little shorts, I’ll make sure to not rip them. This time that is,” Spencer promised with a dark tone clouding his voice.

He shed me of my shorts, lightly tapping my thigh to lift my hips to help him. Spencer sighed contently as he got himself eye level with my legs. He peppered kisses against my inner thighs, nipping and sucking in perfect tempo with my whimpers of pleasure.

“Spence, please you’re killing me.” I groaned, gripping his hair with my hands.

“Already?” Spencer tsked, his condescending tone sent waves of pleasurable humiliation up my spine. “I hardly even touched you yet. My girl is getting so spoiled. It’s a good thing I’m making you my wife. You’ll never have to worry about not getting your way, honey. I’ll always give it to you, you know that, right?”

I attempted to catch my breath as I scratched Spencer’s scalp. He groaned, the anticipation of what was to come, clearly got to him as well. You could feel his erection pressed up against your leg. And the thought of still having that kind of effect on him made me smile with pride.

“I need it, Spence.” I chanted his name, desperation clouded my mind. “I need your mouth on me, please.”

“Just because I love you so much I’ll give it to you, darling.” Spencer cooed, his voice vibrating against your sensitive skin as he spoke.

Spencer, with relative ease and muscle memory, lapped at my center with his tongue. He groaned as he tasted me, the sound simultaneously passionate and romantic. All I could do, as his mouth attached to my clit, was sit and let him have his way with me, not like there was anything either of us would have rather been doing.

His fingers dug into my fleshy hips so deep that they left colorful bruises in the shape of his hands. Spencer kissed my thighs, moaning as my pleasure-filled mewls filled our shared bedroom. He rocked his hips against the mattress, his erection hitting against my leg as he writhed in between my legs.

“Fuck,” Spencer cursed, his mouth massaging my clit as his right hand snuck closer and closer towards my soaked center, “I’ll never get tired of this.”

As much as I craved the familiar fire that Spencer set to my entire being, I found myself needing the quiet peace he provided as well. Even as his tongue danced against my sensitive folds, I still found myself noticing the faint wrinkles in Spencer’s forehead and the slightest sliver of silver in his scalp. And it wasn’t sexual desire that fueled the fire in my veins, it was yearning for the life we've yet to create.

With every kiss, every nip and bite of my skin, every rut of his hips against our perpetually squeaky mattress, I found myself closer and closer to the edge of climax.

Spencer’s finger breached me as his tongue continued to pry against my throbbing pussy. I knotted my hands into his hair, tugging with force just as I knew he loved. He groaned in response and it was frankly scientific. When I tugged his hair, it earned me a wanton moan from the man that found himself in between my legs wreaking havoc against my heart and nervous system.

“Spence…it’s…it’s too much for me,” I whined, yet I wrapped my legs around his torso, forcing his entire face flush against my skin, “Oh fuck, I love you.” I whispered, as I saw my glittering ring shimmer against Spencer’s mousy brown curls.

“I’m going to bury my face into your pussy until you’re begging to come against my face.” Spencer heeded, his patronizing tone casting a different light on the man I loved. Despite my distraction, I made a mental note to have Spencer explore that commanding side of him another day.

Because we had just that. The thought made me smile.

And then, along with Spencer’s eager tongue and continued moans of pleasure, I came undone.

Ever eager to please and see things through, Spencer kissed my inner thighs with persistence. A stray finger pumped in and out at a fervent pace as he milked the reminder of my climax.

“Just like that, sweetheart.” Spencer murmured, the vibrations from his throat tickled my skin. A sappy smile slipped onto my face as Spencer’s eyes finally landed on mine. “You coming on my face is something that I’ll never get tired of.”

“You certainly know the exact way to charm a girl, Spence.” I teased, stroking back strands of hair that fell against his forehead. His brown hair, dusted with golden, copper highlights complimented his eyes so perfectly that my heart twinged when I looked at him. “Besides being perfect in like every way possible.”

Spencer blushed and buried his face against my leg. He dragged his fingertips along my calf and up to my knee. “You’re the perfect one,” Spencer said, kissing my knee. The sweet gesture signaled that it was my turn to flush.

“That’s debatable,” I countered, locking my fingers into Spencer’s long, yet slender hands, “So you’re up at bat, buddy.” I teased, leaning over to playfully slap Spencer’s butt.

He smirked, his eyes ranking over my sleep shirt that was hastily unbuttoned in Spencer’s earnest frenzy to undress me. Though my eyes were caked with sleep and my hair had seen much better days, I had never felt more beautiful than I did under Spencer’s fiery, yet loving gaze.

“You know that doing that is more enjoyable for me than it is for you. And that’s saying something by the look on your face.” Spencer asserted, earning a playful eye roll. “And, don’t get me wrong, I love you more than life itself, but I really need to shower this off.”

“Such a dork.” I tsked, threading my fingers through Spencer’s hair. He leaned in at the touch. “How ‘bout I wash your hair as a thank you, baby.” I offered, sliding up to get off the bed.

“Hmm,” Spencer hummed, closing his eyes, “That sounds excellent.”

After a nearly 45-minute shower intermission, Spencer and I found ourselves standing at the kitchen counter debating over breakfast. Spencer, like usual, insisted on something sweet, covered in syrup and butter, with an unhealthy amount of coffee on the side. 

“I vote for bagels and lox.” I countered, placing my hands on the counter for emphasis. Spencer cocked his head to the left as he reached into the refrigerator for my non-dairy milk of choice. 

“I don’t know about that,” Spencer said, “I was kind of in the mood for something sweet. Like chocolate chip pancakes. Or waffles with mixed berries.” 

I sighed and snuck to behind Spencer’s tall frame. I could feel his muscles tense at my touch; it was something that made my heart swell with pride. I was intensely proud of the fact that I could still make this man squirm at the gentlest, lightest, sweetest of touches. 

“You’re not being fair, Y/N.” Spencer whispered, his voice caught in between a whine and an argument. “But maybe we could make a bargain.” 

“What do you want to offer?” I asked, slipping my hands under Spencer’s shirt. My fingers skirted around his smooth torso, loving the feel of his soft body underneath my touch. When he spoke, his voice was shaky, confirming to me the power I held over him. 

“I want cookies. Those peanut butter and marshmallow fluff ones. With chocolate chips, of course,” Spencer said, “And blueberry-lemon pound cake with icing.” 

Spencer spun around so he faced me. He licked his lips, perhaps thinking of all the sweet desserts he’ll get out of me. Or, rather, maybe he was thinking of taking our bedroom-turned-shower tryst into the kitchen. Whatever it was, I loved the way he looked at me like I was sweeter than my blueberry-lemon pound cake that he begged me to make at least three times a month. 

“You have quite the sweet tooth,” I stated, hooking my arms behind Spencer’s neck, “and you drive an easy bargain. I was already itching to bake today. I love it when our place smells like cookies and all that sweet stuff.” I confessed. 

“Our place,” Spencer repeated, “I can’t tell you how much I love the sound of that.” He smiled. Spencer brushed a piece of my hair that fell across my eyes. His stare bore into my soul and it wasn’t fire or desire or anything like that filled me, it was that familiar, the comfortable, that sweet nothing. 

“You know what I can’t wait for,” I whispered, burying my face into Spencer’s chest, “when our place is filled with our kids.” 

“I hope that they look like you.” Spencer wished. “And I hope they’re just like you. Your smile. Your eyes. Your heart.” His hand rubbed my back in small circles. It felt steady and strong against my back. It was like his hand was meant to be there– like Spencer was always meant to be touching me, holding me, loving me. 

“I hope they have your sweet tooth,” I smiled, “Think about all the cookies and brownies you’ll get if there’s mini-yous running around begging me to bake.” 

“I don’t think I want cookies anymore.” Spencer gasped, his hands finding their place at my waist. He kissed my jawline, smiling through the affection. I couldn’t help but smile to myself as my nails scratched up and down the expanse of Spencer’s back. 

“What’s got you so insatiable this morning,” I questioned, my attention span dwindling as Spencer’s careful mouth skated across my jaw and down to my neck. 

“You.” Spencer said definitively. I could feel his toothy grin as he kissed me. It was like he was unable to contain himself from smiling against my skin. I felt a warmth spread from my

skin and find its way to my heart. It was quickened by Spencer’s persistent kisses, something that I decided a long time ago I’d never want to live without. 

“Your choice.” I breathed. “Couch or counter.” 

I broke from Spencer, eager to watch the wheels of his mind churn as he made a decision. In an attempt to both distract and excite him, I grabbed his arm that lay lazily over my shoulder. I placed his hand against my cheek and Spencer subconsciously stroked my face with his thumb. I twisted my mouth to place a kiss against his cupped palm. 

“Couch.” Spencer said with certainty. “But your shirt comes off this time so I can watch your boobs as you ride me.” 

Spencer giggled with glee as he led me to the couch. He sat, patting the spot on his lap for me to sit. I obliged.

He kissed my hairline, smiling into my forehead. Spencer’s hands flitted down my arms and grazed across my waist. He was the one that made me love the softness of my figure. I never felt like I had to hide the way my body naturally folded and creased. Spencer made me feel beautiful in my most raw and natural sense. 

“Your skin is so soft,” Spencer said, “if there’s something I could spend the rest of my life doing it would be touching you. Your waist. Your chest. Your legs. Everything about you. It’s soft and supple and smooth. I adore you. The way you feel.” 

“Spence,” I croaked, overwhelmed by the way his words stained my cheeks with flush, “God, you make me fall for you over and over.” 

“The plan’s to keep you forever.” Spencer mumbled, his teeth grazed my ear as he whispered in my ear. “Is it working?” 

Spencer’s fingers found their way to my waistband. He looked at me for either praise or permission, I wasn’t sure. But my hands cradling his head and my lips crashing to his was consent enough. 

He was quick, slipping his fingers into my shorts elicited a complimentary proud grin from the pair of us. I twisted his hair into my hands, tilting his head up

to expose his neck. He moaned shamelessly, his thighs shaking underneath me. 

“I think I’m the one making you fall to be honest, Spence.” I cooed, my fingernail tracing down Spencer’s scalp as he puffed out a shaky breath. 

I lifted my hips and Spencer slipped off my shorts, leaving me completely bare. I swore I felt Spencer’s heart skip a beat as I pressed my chest against his chest, our bodies and hearts flush against each other. 

I rolled my hips against Spencer’s erection, starting to laugh mercilessly as Spencer moaned wantonly. Pleasure looked good on him. And it looked even better when it was me who brought him to the brink. 

“I need to be inside you.” Spencer panted in my ear. “I need you all the time, baby. I crave it. Take my cock inside of you.. Feel how hard it is. Feel each rib against your walls. That’s it. Moan for me, just like that, baby.” 

I couldn’t do anything, but moan as Spencer slipped himself inside of me. He was painfully still as he allowed me to get adjusted to erection. I kissed his cheeks, a saccharine action that contrasted the filthy way he fucked me. 

“Spence,” I cried out, only able to whimper his name at that point, “please move. I need it, baby.” 

“I know, I know, darling,” Spencer said, kissing my face, “you take my cock so well. Now let me watch you bounce on my cock.” 

Spencer’s quick movements hastened my climax. I clenched down on him, proud of myself as his face twisted in pleasure. 

“Fuck, fuck.” I cried out, watching as Spencer’s erection disappeared and reappeared from inside me. Our moans filled the silence of the apartment. I felt his soft belly tighten, his tired muscles working overtime as he held me up. “Please, Spence. Please,” 

“Let you come? Hmm,” Spencer hummed, his voice losing the power and control it so carefully held as he neared his own climax, “already, my love? I’ll let you come, my sweet girl. Don’t you dare look away from me. I want to see you explode as you cum on my cock.” 

“No, no. Not that, Spencer,” I corrected, shaking my head to alter my previous correction, “Well, yes you are right. Fuck, it’s hard to concentrate. But no, I need you to come inside me. Please, I need you to fill me up. To give me a baby. Your babies.” 

He was buried so deep inside of me, hitting all the right places as I continued to thrust my hips. Spencer attempted to keep a pace, but grew sloppier and more uncoordinated as I felt his sex twitch inside of me. He huffed in pleasure, his hot breath stinging my skin as he kissed me. The kiss was wet and needy, a testament to the tiniest thread that held our climaxes together. 

“Oh God, I love feeling you like this.” 

“I’m yours, love. I’m yours,” Spencer chanted as he kissed my throat. His groan spilled over my skin as he dripped from me where our two bodies met. He continued to thrust up into me, gently guiding me to come undone. 

I collapsed in a heap on his  sweat covered chest and felt our two hearts beat in tandem. 

“Hmm,” Spencer hummed, his hand spread against my back, “I can’t wait till the day that that works for real.”  

“Me too.” I confirmed. “Who knows maybe it did this time?” 

I felt Spencer’s head raise up and down in agreement. He shifted underneath me, hissing with sensitivity as he slipped out from inside me. I plopped down on the couch next to him, resting my head on his shoulder. 

“I don’t know about you, but I’m starved. And so sore. So you owe me another hot shower, a massage, and at least three overpriced lattes. And a bagel.” 

“Deal.” Spencer said. “Anything you want.” 

Spencer held my hand as we made our way down the street. We hadn’t walked downtown like this in awhile, but I loved the way it looked in the beginning of spring. It was like life itself was pumped back into the world and we were lucky enough to be there to witness it. 

My iced latte, though slightly burnt, revitalized me from the morning’s extracurricular activities. The other hand held Spencer’s hand. It was warm against my palm. I hadn’t had the opportunity to hold many hands in my life, but I realized soon after meeting Spencer that I didn’t care much about all the hands that I didn’t get to hold. 

“Your perfect day getting more perfect?” Spencer asked. He had a canvas bag filled with wildflowers, carnations, and asters that he insisted on buying me. “How about we venture into

that used bookstore. I’ve been searching for a first edition of Camus’s The Stranger. It’s quite rare, but considering the morning we’ve had I think I’m getting lucky today.” Spencer winked. 

“Ha! You mean how to practically jumped me both times. First time you didn’t care about my morning breath and messy hair in the bed and you certainly didn’t care about being so insatiable when you begged  me in the kitchen.” I teased, turning around to whisper with emphasis. Spencer smiled, still holding on to my hand. 

“And I won't care about your disgusting coffee breath in the car when we find somewhere to park later.” 

“Park?” I said, pretending to be aghast at his insinuation, “If I didn’t know you better, Spencer Reid, I’d say you’re propositioning me. Yet again, I might add.” 

“It’s not my fault I can’t get enough of you. That blame falls squarely on your shoulders, darling.” 

I stopped at the bookstore front door. Though it was our next stop, Spencer’s words also threatened to stop me in my tracks. He had this uncanny ability to completely sweep me off my feet with just a few simple words. 

“Insatiable.”

*** 

“I wrote a poem.” I said, looking over at Spencer’s reaction. I could see where his lips folded upwards into a smile. 

“What a mind.” Spencer said, moving his hand to my thigh. He squeezed. “I know you’re shy about sharing them, but can I at least ask what it’s about?” 

“You.” I confessed, my face flushing at the thought. It was silly, given all the things I’ve thought about Spencer, that a poem about living to love him would bring me to the brink of embarrassment.

“As I expected.” Spencer teased. He sounded a little shy himself, like was proud of inspiring all the scrawled away lines in my poetry book. Nearly half of them would never see the world beyond my two eyes. 

“Well, it’s really about the sun. And how it dances on your eyelashes when you sleep in the hammock at the cabin. And your bitter coffee, sweetened by your smile. It’s not very good, incredibly cheesy and saccharine, I’ll admit.” I glanced over at Spencer, again testing his reaction, “But if I’m being honest, it might make better wedding vows than poetry anyway.” 

“You wrote your vows for me?” Spencer asked. We had stopped at a red light and he took advantage of the opportunity to lean over across the console. His right thumb rubbed the back of my hand over and over. 

“And you haven’t?” I mused, welcoming Spencer’s gentle affections. 

“No, well,” Spencer sputtered, shifting gears as the light turned green, “I wrote them already. Well, the first draft, at least. That was done around November 15th, 2016.” 

“The night of our first kiss?” I practically squealed, squeezing Spencer’s hand this time. He blushed at my excitement at my realization. “Ha! You really are being honest when you tell me you’ve loved me since the beginning.” Spencer pulled into our apartment’s parking lot, driving down the winding side roads.

“Of course I did, I do,” Spencer said earnestly. He pulled into the spot. I looked up at our second floor apartment. We had several plants sitting in pots, hanging over the ledge and lined up against the wall on the little balcony. I loved our flowers. 

“Y/N,” Spencer said, holding my hands in his. The ring sparkled in the afternoon light, “when you met me, my job nearly took everything from me. Everyone expected me to bounce back just like that. But I couldn’t bear it, not anymore. I didn’t think there was much light anymore. Much of anything good, if I'm being honest. And then I met you. To you I can admit, I’m too soft for all of it.” 

“Spence,” I said, my voice breaking as I spoke, “you’re the light. You’re the sun, Spencer. You’re the one I want. The one I need, you know that, right?” 

“I do,” Spencer whispered, kissing my hands as he held them to his lips, “Can you promise me something, though.” He asked. 

“Anything.” 

“That we’ll have days like this forever. Loving each other, even when things might be hard. Even when love may not seem to be enough. We’ll make it enough. Because we have to have each other in a world like the one we got. Because otherwise it’s pointless. That’s life– my life without you, Y/N. Completely and entirely and entirely pointless.” 

“Spence.” I whispered, bringing my hand to his cheek. “I really hope that was the final draft.”  

Taglist: I'm not sure who's still active, but here's the people I don't feel bad bothering

@reidsbookclub @foxy-eva @ofwilliamandwalter @thedancingcostumeyoungadult @radiant-reid

[kitsuvil]

— food critique 【picturesque/ayato smau】

【 masterlist 】

— thank you to my lovely knighted by e'ming nephew dmitri (@/calamitygutz) for the art per usual!! he's the awesomest ever<3 quick update after yesterdays, i didn't think i was capable of back to back updates no way LOL & i hope you all enjoy my self indulgent cafe kusuri content

— taglist; @griseoo @fangygf @calamitygutz @driftwoodmanor @meigalaxy @kyon-cherri @xiaossocksniffer @quacking-simp @kaitfae @imgayandshesanime @lxry-chxn @ni-ki-ismyluv @cante-lope @kookiibun @kamisatoyato @astolary @dontmindtheevie @sn1perz @0range-juiceee @h3xi2g0n3 @eutopiastar @samyayaya

[moodymisty]

Hello, i'm actually new to this blog, and was wondering if i could request something for either War or Death from Darksiders? i honestly don't mind wether it ends up sfw or nsfw! Anyways, would love some headcanons for War or Death (i'll leave the choice of which of them to you!) with a chubby and short female S/O for what a relationship would be like? Again, can be sfw or nsfw, or both X3

Hope you have a awesome day/night! 😁

Author's Note: Hello, and welcome to the madhouse, we cook self indulgence here. I was originally just going to do Death, but I had too many ideas and decided to just do both of them. Also as a 158cm girl, I feel this prompt in my soul.

Relationships: Death/Fem!Reader, War/Fem!Reader (Reader is implied to be shorter than average and also a lil chubby)

Warnings: Some NSFW (not explicit just a little lewd implication) content along the SFW stuff, Not really much of note

✦ War ✦

SFW

War has always known Humans to be some of the smaller of the Realms inhabitants, but when he'd first met you, he never realized that a full grown human could be this, teeny.

Your relationship makes him realize just how tall he really is; Sure he was the tallest of his fellow Horsemen despite being the youngest, but you can barely reach his chest. It was the main thing that had grabbed his attention at first and had him thinking about you.

He often picks you up with one arm so you're sitting on his forearm, and you wrap one arm around his shoulder while his hand cups the side of your thigh. It's not as if he thinks you're incapable of doing anything, it's just that War has trouble making his gait slow enough in order for you to keep up with much smaller legs. This is just easier, and you don't seem to mind.

Secretly thinks it's the cutest thing when you try and hold his hand- especially with his gauntlets on.

Your small and soft nature absolutely triggers some sort of instinctive, protective feeling in him. He tries to hide it and remain stoic, but he's always in your shadow.

While he isn’t apposed to getting on one knee and giving you a kiss on the lips (War doesn’t ignore the power you have that you can get a Horsemen of the Apocalypse to kneel before you) he most often leans down to give you a kiss on the top of the head. War finds initiating affection daunting as he's quite unfamiliar with it, and as such you’ll usually have to do so. A kiss on the head is one of the rare things he’ll do unprompted.

War absolutely adores how soft you are. As the largest and strongest of the Horsemen he’s used to being a ruthless battering ram, so touching such soft things is something incredibly foreign to him. You’ll have to convince him you aren’t that fragile, but once you do he loves to hold your body close and maybe even fall asleep. Sometimes you'll catch his hand on your thigh or hip just gently holding onto you.

NSFW-ish

You have eyes way too big for your stomach.

And it’s not any more apparent then when you’re with War alone and he’s stripped of all his armor, and you realize just how massive he still is. It wasn't as if you thought he wasn't big per say, it's just, you assumed his armor was more of his mass than... This. He's still gargantuan.

It's even more so obvious to him; As when he puts his hands on your body, he realizes how much they swallow you and how soft you feel.

He worries enough during the day about accidentally hurting you, but this just dials it up to eleven.

War has, trouble containing his more aggressive emotions at times, and he’s worried in his fervor and passion he’ll wound you. If he did, he’d never forgive himself.

As such it takes him a decent while to be able to do anything you would consider somewhat rough or doesn't involve him holding back to quite a degree. It's hard for him to believe you aren't actually that fragile.

Sometimes you find him almost getting distracted by how soft you are, his hands squeezing your sides or thighs. It's like he's lost in thought.

He loves it when you sit on his lap. Be it in any scenario. Doing so is one of the easiest ways to make sure he is very much paying attention to you.

✦ Death ✦

SFW

Death may be shorter than War, but that doesn't say he's short by any means, at least according to a human metric. As such you're often times cocking your head up quite far to look him in the eyes; Which often times bear down on you so intensely you shrink.

He jokes about your height quite a bit, but it's in his usual wry, humorless wit. Things like asking if you need help getting up stairs or getting onto Despair with an amused strain to his voice.

Dust loves you. He usually sleeps on the headboard of your bed, but if Death isn't around he'll often times hop down and lay down on your belly or back, at least until Death returns. The Reaper sometimes leaves his crow with you to keep an eye (and give you some company) on you, and he'll often return to his giant curmudgeon of a bird on your thighs. He likes how soft they are and how much real estate he has to fluff up.

Secretly enjoys putting his chin on your head and resting it there. It makes you upset which he finds amusing, but there's a closeness to it that he likes. He enjoys the feeling of you being happy in his personal space.

He is ceaselessly overprotective at times. A lot of the time. You're so much smaller and softer than most of the denizens of the realms he's used to, whenever you get close to them he's instantly thinking of the worst possible outcomes. He tries to hold it in most of the time, but there's been more than a few times you've felt him looming right behind you just emanating hatred, or grabbing your shoulder to pull you back away from something or someone.

He'll try and play the 'ugh affection' card quite a bit, but he loves when you pull him down to give him a kiss on his cheek or mask. As long as you're not too overbearing he'll generally let it slide. But he, doesn't feel deserving of it- of you, though he enjoys it none the less.

NSFW-ish

Death hasn't felt like this about anyone for long enough that he struggles to remember. He just knows he cannot fuck this up.

To have someone care about him this way and to be so vulnerable, whenever he thinks about it he nearly doesn't know how to act.

It's like the Creator himself made you in such a way that it drives him up a wall. The first time you undressed in front of him he actually froze for a moment, to the point you thought you did something wrong.

It's actually quite easy to tease him, but not in the way you think. Lewd comments get next to no reaction, he's been there done that. Things like gently holding onto his arm, telling him you missed him; Those are the things that work.

Unlike War, Death is far more capable of holding in his strength, so he doesn't have as much of the same fear regarding hurting you. It's still there just, not as overt.

Loves the feeling of your hands on his bare skin. They're so soft, sometimes he can barely feel them.

Since you are so short, it's so easy for him to trap your body underneath him. Sometimes it surprises him how pliable you are to it, to him (not many would want Death itself to loom over them, especially in this way) but he'll still greedily indulge. He loves the way you look up at him.

[moonstarinfinity]

Planetary Returns

Hello Friends!

It's been a long time right? Well we're slowly making our way back to this blog, and what better way to come back then to talk about Planetary returns?! We're going to cover the basics and give some insights into how these specific transits can show up in your life. It helps to have a basic understanding of signs, planets, houses, and aspects, so this post may be a little more intermediate to advanced than beginner level. We hope you enjoy, and we're looking forward to sharing a bunch more with you soon!

*Please do not copy, redistribute, or alter and claim our work as your own. We work really hard on our content, so please be considerate and credit us for the time, effort, knowledge, and love we put into our posts. All of our astrology posts are for entertainment purposes only (we aren’t licensed in things like medicine or psychology so we legally have to put this here) and as such should be taken as they resonate, and not as legal, medical, or health advice. Not everything will fit with you exactly with astrology in every situation, so please be discerning about what feels right for you. 💜 *

What does it mean when a planet "Returns?"

A planetary return happens when a planet returns to the exact location it was at when you were born. These happen at different intervals and times of your life, depending on the planets speed & where your personal planetary placements are.

One of the most well known (and beloved) planetary returns is your solar return, though it's usually referred to as your birthday!

Once a year the earth returns to the exact spot it was at in its orbit around the sun when your birth occurred. This is the only return where the celestial object it’s named after isn’t the one doing the moving, as the planet that does the moving is earth, since we orbit the sun, the sun doesn't orbit us.

So how often do planets return? What are the themes are highlighted during these times? Lets break it down by planet!

Solar Return (Sun) - This happens every year on the day you were born (though the time of day changes each year.) YOU are highlighted during this time. This shines a nice big spotlight on you and brings you all kinds of attention. This is also a day that focuses on your expression & helps you see your goals and purpose more clearly. This is why birthdays are the days that are all about us. This is also an extremely important day each year as it shows us what themes we will work with for the upcoming year until our next birthday. (More on that in a separate post all about Solar returns - coming soon!)

Lunar Return (Moon) - This happens once a month and is based on the moon's orbit around the earth. The effects tend to last a couple days. It's the most frequent return that we experience in our natal chart. The things that come into focus with this largely are based on your moon sign, but you can expect tightened intuition & sensitivity during this time. You may also feel more connected spiritually & emotionally, and feel more inclined to express your feelings, spend time with family, or learn about your ancestors.

Mercury Return - Mercury returns once per year as it's the fastest moving planet in the sky. You can experience a boost in communication, travel opportunities, intellect, and exchanges of all kinds. You may also get more invites, reunions, learning opportunities, & social media growth when this transit is happening.

Venus Return - This happens about once a year, and we typically experience its most potent energy over a period of a few days. This transit brings a focus on our love lives, partnerships, self care, aesthetics, & legal/financial matters. It's a time where proposals, dates, indulgence, beautification, glow ups, & spending more time with partners are all in the forefront. For anyone who is single this can also be a really auspicious time to meet someone new!

Mars Return - Mars return happens about once every one to two years depending on retrogrades. The effects are most potent for just a few days, but it does move a little slower so we often feel a little more of the build up and cool down than with the previous planets we've discussed already. This is a time where more fuel gets added to our own personal fire. It's a great time to start new things, make bigger moves, spend some more time in the bedroom, and use your stamina for more intense projects and actions. It might feel easier to move forward, or like you suddenly have more energy & willpower than you usually do.

Jupiter Return - Jupiter returns about every 12 years. (So ages 12, 24, 36, 48, etc.) This is the planet of expansion, fortune, luck, abundance, higher education, & long term travel. You may receive a lot of aligned opportunities & lucky breaks during this time. It's a time where we see some potential manifestations moving in. It's also a time that may feel more lighthearted & optimistic, & it's a great time to experience new places & cultures. We often focus on tradition, philosophy, & the bigger picture during this transit.

Saturn Return - The second most heard of return is definitely the Saturn return. This return is known for being less enjoyable than most of the others, and it happens about every 29 years. The most commonly observed one is around age 30 (it affects us from about age 27 to age 32 though.) This brings a time of life where huge shifts & changes happen. It's kind of like when we're taking our steps onto the next level in our lives. Growing up & maturity are focuses during this time, and often this transit comes with making big decisions from our authenticity & breaking away from old narratives & conditioning. The changes are for the better, but are foundational & can be very challenging. Think new jobs, moving, letting go of people, places, & things we've outgrown. New realizations about who we are, what our path is, & what we really want & need from life become apparent. We're often forced to align with these things during this time, whether we want to or not. But the key is: if you do the work, Saturn will reward you, & it will reward you well.

Uranus Return - This only happens a couple times in life depending on how long we live. It returns at ages 42 & 84, and brings with it innovation, change, & what we typically call the "midlife crisis." During this time people often feel like breaking free, doing new or unexpected things, & redesigning their lives.

Neptune Return - We won't ever see a Neptune return in our lifetime as this happens every 165 years. This planet spends about 14 years in each sign & moves VERY slowly. This planet *does* show a generational shift in core beliefs, art, music, spirituality, & approach to restriction, addiction, & mental health.

Pluto Return - This is also a return we will NEVER see. It takes Pluto 248 years to orbit the sun & we often only see it move through 3-4 signs in our lifetime, as it can take anywhere from 12-30 years to move through a single sign. It is currently working on moving out of Capricorn into Aquarius, where it will remain from 2025 - 2044. This is also a generational planet, but it concerns itself with transformation, reform, the taboo things, occult, & deep issues that need burned down and started fresh.

There is one more astrological object that returns that I want to talk about, & that's Chiron. Chiron is an asteroid & is often times referred to as "the wounded healer." (Look for more info on Chiron coming in the future!)

Chiron - This return happens once in a person's lifetime, around age 50. (If you live to be 100, you get to experience this a second time around as well.) This return is a big deal as it contributes to the "Midlife Crisis" & can push people to confront their biggest wounds, if they haven't already. There will inevitably be life changes during this return, but how you handle them & their difficulty depends on how much growth & healing you've done on this placement & your core wounds up until this point. Expect childhood traumas, inner child healing, leftover teenage angst, nostalgia, & introspective epiphanies during this time, as well as huge life altering realizations that come with the push to make changes that are aligned for you.

This is a really quick breakdown of planetary returns, and as previously stated, how each of these shows up for you personally is going to depend on your own chart & the transits that are happening when you experience them.

For example: someone who has their Mars return in Cancer in their 3rd house is going to experience their Mars return completely differently than someone with Mars in virgo in their 10th house. For a deeper look at how these affect you it would be helpful to have a return reading from an astrologer, or to have a more advanced understanding of astrology & transits.

Are you experiencing any planetary returns right now? We hope you learned something new, & have fun diving into your own placements in relation to these special times!

[prxciouslullaby]

SUMMARY: Eyeless Jack is in desperate need of a distraction from the voices. He doesn't expect this, though. [AO3 link] CONTENT WARNING(S): Self-Harm mentioned

He can hear them. At the back of his mind, slowly growing louder the longer he tossed and turned in his bed.

We don’t need sleep. We need to cut into ourselves and find the secrets within. We need to throw ourselves against the wall to see what breaks. We need to drown in the river to see how much water our body can hold.

His body aches, its desire to satisfy their cravings growing stronger as the seconds pass. It finally becomes too much and he sits up from the ground, exhausted. The voices grew louder with every passing night. They were manageable before, but the sudden influx of killers seeking him out for help was starting to take a toll on him. More than he’d care to admit.

It was time for a distraction.

Eyeless Jack stands and adjusts his mask properly on his face. He drags his feet to the cabin’s door and leans against it. The smooth wood feels cool on his skin. He lets out a pleased sigh, but it’s short lived. The voices grow louder. He stumbles out into the night, his hands shoved into his pockets, as he walks into the surrounding woods. It doesn’t take long for the trees to start shifting, but without a set destination in mind, he isn’t sure where he’ll end up.

Right where you need to be, a voice in his head tells him. It’s his own voice, he realizes, but he doesn’t know how he heard it above the others.

The wind caused by the shifting trees feel great against him. He lifts his mask and allows the cool air to whip against it, it’s force enough to send him walking a few steps backward. His cravings do not subside, however. The voices beg for more, urge him to slam his body into one of the trees as it moves to see where he’ll land, how hard he’ll hit the ground. His body trembles as he fights every urge to give in. He puts his mask back on and trudges on.

After a few moments, the trees slow to a stop and form a path before him. It’s harder to see now, though, and he sees the trees have lined up so close together, with their branches hanging over the path, that he assumes they’ve blocked out all the moonlight that was previously shining down on him.

Nevertheless, he follows the path. The dirt beneath his feet is unexpectedly soft, much to the displeasure of the voices. He’s sure that he hasn’t been here, wherever here is, so his curiosity is piqued enough to ignore them. The dirt eventually gives way to grass and he looks up to see a lake in the distance.

Sweet peace, he thinks to himself.

He doesn’t make it to the lake, though. Not yet. He hears rapid footsteps approaching him from his left side and he turns to scan the trees for movement. There’s a flash of white that darts between the trees closest to him and in a split second, he finds himself side stepping out of the way as the white mass launches out of the trees and slams into a tree across the path. A loud groan escapes the white mass, and it takes a second for him to realize that the white mass is actually Jeff in his hoodie.

“You bitch!” Jeff hisses.

The voices agree with Jeff, disappointed that they couldn’t indulge the craving, but Eyeless Jack smiles as he watches Jeff slur out curses at him.

“It’s great to see you too,” he says simply. He reaches out to Jeff, who clings to the tree he landed against, and gently helps him up, much to Jeff’s annoyance. An annoyance that he doesn’t hesitate to voice, per usual.

“Stop touching me, that– OW FUCK– Stop treating me like I’m fragile– SON OF A BITCH– You’re an asshole, why didn’t you just let me–”

“If you ran quieter, you would have caught me off guard, Jeff.”

Jeff glares at Eyeless Jack. He expects Jeff to continue shouting at him, per usual, so he’s surprised when Jeff simply walks down the path, hissing and cussing under his breath. He follows him, in part to make sure he doesn’t collapse on him but also to investigate the reason for the sudden change in his demeanor.

The end of the path widens out into a clearing of grass that sat before a vast, calm lake. Its reflection shows the cloudy sky above them, but the clouds don’t indicate any signs of rain as far as Eyeless Jack can tell. But he wasn’t one to reject rain, anyway. There were worse things to be inconvenienced by.

Eyeless Jack turns his attention back to Jeff, who was now glaring down at the grass. Eyeless Jack realized he could see him better here, see the splatter of blood on his sleeves and the smeared blood on his face and neck. Jeff was hunched over slightly, his hand pressed against his side. Eyeless Jack recognizes the stance.

This idiot.

“Who did you get into a fight with this time?”

The question causes Jeff to direct his glare at him, a scowl now plastered on his face. Eyeless Jack figures he won’t answer him – he never really does, leaving him to find out weeks later when the other killers mock Jeff for it – but he can’t help but try to distract himself from the voices in his head. He knows they would just love to live inside Jeff’s head for a day.

“Why the fuck do you care? Wanna scold me like I’m a fucking five year old?”

The question takes him aback. Jeff’s tone betrays the hurt he was trying to conceal, but it’s also dripping with an anger that he’s only seen a few times. It slowly dawns on him that, despite the time he’s spent getting to know Jeff’s habits, they might not view one another the same. There’s no way to outright ask Jeff, however, without him mocking the question for what it is and storming off to do who knows what. So instead, he slowly lifts his hands in defense, hoping the gesture is enough to convey the thought to Jeff.

Jeff’s scowl softens a little and he looks out to the lake. He’s still for a moment, and Eyeless Jack wonders what thoughts are running through his head to leave him so quiet. He doesn’t get to ask though, as Jeff breaks his silence with a heaved sigh and runs a hand through his hair. Eyeless Jack notes that his palms and fingers are bleeding, but the cuts the blood flows from are particularly precise and straight edged. It tells him that the cuts were self-made, and that Jeff’s ticks have returned. He’ll have to convince Jeff to go back to his cabin somehow, but that would be for later.

Jeff shoves hands into the front pockets of his jeans and pulls something out from them. He shoves them into his front hoodie pocket before Eyeless Jack can see, though. He tilts his head back, staring up at the sky. His expression is relaxed now, albeit replaced with an emotion Eyeless Jack can’t quite pinpoint. The tension that was in the air had dissipated, though, so he takes that as some sort of victory. It isn’t until Jeff extends an arm out to Eyeless Jack that he realizes what’s fully happening.

A pack of cigarettes and a lighter sit in Jeff’s bloody palm.

Because Jeff was never one to apologize. Eyeless Jack was convinced he couldn’t, but that was neither here nor there. The message is clear.

A peace offering.

Eyeless Jack gingerly takes them from his hand and opens the pack to see that it’s full. He doesn’t ask Jeff where he got these items, knowing full well that would ruin this moment of peace, but he nods to Jeff and steps away from him. It’s enough to get Jeff to grunt in acknowledgement before his hands disappears behind his back.

The voices scream at him to stop as he stares at the pack of cigarettes. He feels a thrill knowing that they know what comes next.

He lifts his mask, just enough to expose his mouth, and presses a cigarette to his lips. He lights it and inhales deeply, feels the smoke fill his lungs, and the sting that comes with it spreads throughout his whole chest and throat. He holds his breath then, lets the discomfort sit there for a while as it fills every space left in his body and satiates his craving, silences the voices.

Everything goes silent, for a moment.

And then he hears the crickets chirping in the distance, accompanied by the sudden howl of a coyote. And he feels just about ready to pass out, so he tilts his head up to the sky and lets out his breath. The rush of relief that washes over him as he watches the smoke billow above him is enough to get him smiling again.

“EJ?”

For a moment, he forgot Jeff was there.

He turns to Jeff and sees him still standing a few feet away from him. Jeff’s eyes are trained on him but his clenched jaw makes it clear that he doesn’t quite understand what’s going on. Which, Eyeless Jack realizes, is a good thing.

“...Yes?”

Jeff opens his mouth to speak but immediately turns away from Eyeless Jack, muttering something under his breath. This change amuses him, but once he sees Jeff clenching and unclenching his fists repeatedly, he quickly pivots back to concern.

“Do you…” Eyeless Jack hesitates on his next choice words. He knows Jeff won’t ask for help on account of his ego, even if he’s on the verge of another collapse. “Do you smoke, Jeff?” Jeff shakes his head, burying his hands back into his hoodie pocket. He doesn’t turn around, though, causing further concern for Eyeless Jack. “Do you want to try? If you’re interested, that is.”

Jeff doesn’t react at first. Eyeless Jack almost convinces himself that Jeff hadn’t heard him, but he notices Jeff’s hands stop twitching in his pockets. And then he hears Jeff cuss under his breath – in the way he does when he feels like he can’t talk himself out of whatever situation he’s put himself in, like he’s been defeated – and sigh. Jeff slowly turns around to face him, his lips pulled into a tight-lipped frown, and closes the gap between them.

“What’s so good about it?” Jeff grumbles.

Eyeless Jack wordlessly holds the cigarette out to Jeff, who takes it and holds it up to his lips. He watches as Jeff takes a drag and immediately lets the smoke out with a wheeze. His face turns to disgust as he looks at Eyeless Jack.

“What the fuck EJ.”

“You get over the taste after a while, if that’s what’s–”

Jeff shakes his head and glances out to the lake as he takes another drag from the cigarette. Eyeless Jack follows his gaze and sees in the water’s reflection that the clouds have parted. He walks closer to the water’s edge and looks up to see the stars, hundreds of them scattered across the sky, shining down on them. The sight leaves him breathless again and he’s suddenly filled with a flurry of emotions that run through his body faster than he can identify them.

He doesn’t realize his mouth is open until Jeff elbows him in his side and snickers.

“What? Never seen stars before?”

“They’ve never been so bright…” he murmurs.

He half expects Jeff to start laughing at him, but when he instead feels him standing right beside him, he knows that this night really is different. That this moment is just for the two of them, no matter how brief, and that things would be different moving forward.

They would be different.

[silentgravesdontexist]

Self-Ship Content w/ Ace~

Note: This is extremely self-indulgent. The title says it all. As per requested as well by @ofoceansandtombsanew🫶

CW: Does first person POV self-ship count? lol

Word Count: 500+

Childhood Enemies(?)

It was hate at first sight.

Both parents are marines who usually went on long missions. They were close to Garp and wanted me to become a Marine. So, they thought it'd be a great idea to leave me in his care whenever they were out on missions.

Garp brought me along to Goa one time to visit Luffy and Ace and introduced me to them. I was hiding behind Garp and clung to him.

Ace looked me dead in the eyes and went, "I don't like him. He looks like a pampered brat." With that scrunched look on his face.

We were constantly on each other's throats since then. There was barely ever a moment of peace whenever we interacted. But I did get along with Luffy and Sabo. Just not Ace.

Didn't rlly help that I wanted to be a marine while he wanted to be a pirate (well, three of them wanted to be pirates) but Sabo would somewhat mediate before Ace and I threw hands at each other (again).

On the day Garp was finally taking me back to Marine HQ, we got into an argument. He said it was good riddance to have me gone, and I started crying.

Even Luffy chided Ace for that. Eventually, Ace gave in and admitted he'd miss our interactions— just a bit. Patting my head and even saying we'd meet again if I promised to stop crying.

Ofc, I came back a month later. After threatening Garp, I was gonna drive a fleet into a whirlpool using my devil fruit if he didn't let me see Ace and the others again (I was 10 and almost did).

Pre-Relationship

Went from being a well-known navigator of the Marines to being one of most wanted criminal for punching a Celestial Dragon square in the face real quick into my career as a Marine.

MIA for almost half a year. Ace was the only one who managed to find me. Hauled me over his shoulder and dragged me to his ship where I started free-loading.

The only reason he found out I had a...feminine body was when he accidentally walked in on me while I was changing (he thought I was a guy ever since we met).

There was a lengthy discussion after that. And he was visibly confused for at least a week. Always out of it for some reason. But he had the spirit, did his best to understand and respecy my identity.

Both of us were horrible at communicating and being honest with our feelings.

I had a crush on him when we were kids but stopped since he only looked at me platonically. And he had feelings for me when we were in our early teens but never confessed bc he was scared I'd reject him.

Now, there was that tension neither of us wanted to address. Everyone in the Ace of Spades could tell. But both of us were still stuck on the "What if they reject me and think I'm weird or a creep?" fear.

[inkblot-inc]

Call Me Anything But Human

Summary: There's aways something that lurks in the dark, but often what's scarier is what lies out in the open.

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Werewolf!Reader

Warning(s): 18+ as per usual, so hey MINORS DNI. there's also smut near the end; we got cnc, strap on use (wanda recieving), and edging (R recieving). Dark Themes; R literally eats someone alive, so like blood and gore + cannibalism(?), pretty sure there's language as well, I dunno about you, but that's probably the least of your concerns reading the previous warnings-

Note(s): What’s more self-indulgent than sharing a new universe earlier than planned? Hahaha someone please humor me here, I have so many goddamn WIPS. It's a lil intro for everything else to come as usual. I hope you enjoy :3

Word Count: floating around 2.2k

*squints* I give NO ONE permission to repost or translate my work. Make your own shit

You watched from afar as the frail old lady hobbled her way back into her tiny cabin. The closest house was miles away, let alone a market.

You watched a dim light flicker on from inside with a static noise following soon after; she cut the TV on. You licked your chops in anticipation, creeping out from the tree line to make your way closer to the residence.

Silently coming up to the front window, you peer inside to see the older woman settle into a recliner with a steaming bowl of food ready to watch the tube. You don’t know how senile this lady is, but it’s definitely to your advantage that she’s not more aware. Looking around through the window still, you notice a slightly larger window cracked open over what looks like the kitchen sink.

It’s ballsy. A straight shot view from the main room.

Walking around the side of the cabin, you make your way to the kitchen window and slip your hand under the crack to lift the screen up slowly. There’s an audible *clack* when it goes all the way up.

There’s a cough and some shuffling as you stay stock still…

Nothing else happens.

You hoist yourself through the window, landing with a dull thud, The click of your claws on the rickety wood flooring was hardly noticeable. The TV droning on helped cover up a lot of noise no doubt.

From there, there was no real need to be discreet as you surged forward to maul the drowsy elderly woman. You were on her before she could even think to get up. Her half-eaten bowl of chicken and rice tumbled to the floor in a heap as you tore her neck open. Your other clawed hand ripped open the old lady’s stomach exposing its contents as she choked on her own blood. Her attempts to yell or even call for help were useless out here; her eyes were wide and mortified as she was essentially eaten alive. Bones and all.

The old woman’s head was the last to be devoured and you couldn’t even look at it as you shoved it down your gullet.

It helps that you don't know this lady personally at least.

Crunching on a bony hand that was left, you eyed the spilled food that remained lukewarm with the oily sauce trying to stain the unvarnished floorboards.

It could never compare to the full course meal you just had…

The scene had next to no sign of struggle, with all but a small collecting pool of blood and a smattering of torn and bloody clothes on the pleather lazy boy.

Before you could get to tidying up any evidence you could have left behind, your ears pricked up.

Footsteps and a light jangle of keys.

Your eyes widened as you made your way back to the kitchen sink to clean your newly shifted face and neck of blood, along with your hands. Finding a hallway closet, you tore off your crewneck before balling it up and chucking it inside. You were left in a black t-shirt and jeans as everything in the closet was either too small or too identifiable.

You pulled the flashlight from the top shelf along with your phone as you heard the front door open.

Turning around the corner, you call out to the person that's just entered the cabin, flashing the light in their direction. "Westview county sheriff's department! Keep your hands where I can see them!"

"Whoa wait! What's going on?" The person was revealed to be a brunette woman, probably in her mid to late 20s.

"I was called to check out a new missing person's case we got at the station. One Agnes Black. The trail led me to discover the scene here. I'm going to need to ask for your name and ID, miss."

You made sure to keep the interest on her for a bit as you tried to get yourself together to form a plan. "Oh! Um, Wanda Maximoff. Agnes is a family friend, she's the only one that's still around. Or she was… I tried to stop in every so often to make sure she's doing okay out here on her own."

You bury your nerves at the situation as you watch the young woman go to scramble through her bag to get her identification. She pulls it out to show you clearest day: 'Wanda Maximoff, twenty seven, NJ driver's license'. Designation: human.

Not a threat.

You look back up at her, " Right, well, this was the scene when I got here. No sign of forced entry, but quite a bit of blood."

Wanda raised a brow, " You came out to an unknown residence, in the middle of the woods miles from town, alone?"

You felt your face burn with embarrassment at her tone.

It did sound stupid as hell.

You cleared your throat, " I'm new. I guess I just… wanted a chance to prove myself I guess." In a sense this was true. You had just landed a job in the sheriff's department, but You didn't care to impress any of your peers in the slightest. You'd rather the woman think you an overzealous idiot, than have her build suspicion.

Wanda looked up slightly to squint at your face before a look of recognition took over her features. " You're Bigby, right? I know I've heard that name mentioned around town. The hot new deputy sheriff that came down from New York -"

Wanda's hand came to cover her mouth a bit too late, " or so I've heard, you know,"

You flash a bit of a pointy smile at the brunette before you scratch the back of your neck. " Well, for the record, Bigby is my uncle, my name is Y/n." If only he could see his "Lil Bean" now…

Wanda's answering smile with sheepish, but there was a subtle shift in her green eyes that you couldn't exactly place. " I wonder if he'd be proud or disappointed to see you follow in your family's footsteps."

You gave a brief laugh through your nose, taken a bit of back before Wanda spoke up again. " At least he never shat where he ate though, right?"

"What?-"

All you saw was a red mist passed over your eyes before you were knocked out cold, Wanda standing over your unconscious body.

—-------------

Waking up, you found yourself in what you could only assume was a basement or some other underground room. The cement floor and persistent draft lending to this as well. While trying to move around, you found your hands and feet bound together with chains. Your attempts to break free with your supernatural strength proved to be pointless against whatever this metal was.

The sound of a door creaking open had you halting all movement. " I still have to get things insulated down here, but my guess is that it's not even cold enough for you to feel little more than a breeze right now."

You can only stare straight ahead as you heard the subtle clop of footsteps coming down cobbled stairs from behind you. Wanda came around to stand in front of you with a subtle smirk and a tilt of her head.

Her diffident posture was long gone.

" Well, Natasha wasn't lying. You are pretty cute." Wanda firmly grasped your chin between her thumb and four finger as she moved your head this way and that. " Human meat must work wonders for a mutt's skin."

To be quite frank: you were terrified. All creatures that brought undue terrors or committed crimes onto others, especially if it involved the harm of humans, were promptly and harshly dealt with. The most efficient way being torture for intentions before death. Government authorities often worked hand in hand with the Purifiers in that way.

Wanda briefly rolled her eyes as she sensed your heart rate spike, most likely from fear. " I'm not with the human puritans, if that's your worry, Wolfie. More like an interested third party."

You took a small breath of relief as you could cross the worst case scenario off of your list of possibilities. " Then- what do you want with me? Did you even know that lady?-"

" You mean your dinner? Yes, but Agatha has served her purpose. She owed it to me after all," You turned slightly as Wanda went on. "And I want you, officer, to be my inside person while I conduct my dealings."

Your eyes narrowed at her assured voice, " and I would just agree to that right? Be for real, woman."

Wanda’s smirk simply stayed in place. " Well, I could just drop off all the photographic evidence I have of you scouting and devouring your last four victims, all of whom are on the missing persons listings." Plenty of photos fluttered to the ground, fanned out for you to see yourself at your most vulnerable. Wanda tutted her tongue almost mockingly, " such a sloppy puppy, they'd have a field day with you I'm sure."

Your eyes were frozen on the high-definition pictures of you hastily leaving a woman's penthouse, clothes still bloody; one of the few cases that you've filed after spending the night with them. Gwen-something. Jesus, wasn't this in New York? Her father was still looking for her when you moved away...

You vaguely knew that Wanda was still speaking. " And, if that's not enough, you ingested Agatha's whole body. One of my own reanimated corpses bound with a fealty clause. One could assume it had passed on to you. I'd hate for you to have to find out what happens when that clause is broken firsthand." Your mouth could only open and close like a fish as you thought through the whole thing.

You don't have an option. You really don't.

Wanda sauntered closer to your restrained form as her fingers ran across your shoulders. She leaned over till her lips we next to your ear. "Way to be thorough, huh, Y/n?" Her hands lightly smoothed down your arm.

You tried to keep your face as stoic as you could. "Fine. What do you want me to do?" Wanda patted the your cheek rough enough for it to be considered patronizing instead of soothing. "We'll hash that out in time, don't you worry your fuzzy little head about it."

"But details, details…" Wanda's voice trailed off as she proceeded to straddle your waist, your breath caught. " You must be relieved to finally have some familiarity, huh?" As Wanda continues to shift on top of you to make yourself comfortable, you feel an odd amount of pressure that causes you to gasp.

Wanda's mouth lifts into a sly smirk, " there we are. This will end different then you're used to, I'm certain. There is one other thing you'll have to get acquainted with." One of Wanda's hands runs down your shirt over your stomach before lifting up the hem halfway for you to see.

A new wave of panicked confusion would have had you jolting around again if Wanda wasn't holding you steady.

From your pelvis and spreading outward, we're visible black and dimly glowing veins under your skin. Staring hard enough, you could see them pulse occasionally before the anomaly seemed to fade into your skin.

And it was all connected to the strap on between your legs.

Still struggling to comprehend, you just about lost your ever-loving mind when Wanda gripped it in her hand.

You could feel it.

The new feeling of sensitivity you basically had you like putting in Wanda's hands. "Hah- how…" You catch Wanda's eyes glow again, and it was almost impossible to string two thoughts together with the constant pump of her hand.

" It's more than you probably deserve, but I'm going to enjoy bringing you to your knees this way." You whine involuntarily as Wanda takes her hand off to untie her robe.

Wanda's breasts were now exposed, nipples hard with a rise of goose flesh being out in the cool air. She lifts herself up and lines your cock up at her entrance, and you watch as she fully sinks herself down on it, and she doesn't move. For a good minute. The haziness goes away as you fully connect with Wanda. The pleasure you feel is immediate and you feel a familiar tightening sensation in your stomach.

Wanda leans forward, her mouth latching onto the side of your neck. God, she felt so full. Her hands come to rest over your shoulders before her nails dig in. She feels the muscles there a bunch up a bit before slowly relaxing. The moment Wanda starts moving, she gets a low grunt from you as the toy slides in and out of her pussy. Every stroke, every flutter from inside does something to you, and it's the most tantalizing thing for Wanda to watch and feel.

Your hands keep trying to break through their bonds as you feel your high coming up. You can't help but whimper from under the brunette as she keeps abruptly stopping right at the edge. " Please," Wanda's watched you struggle this whole time, but she all but stops writing you and she's plays coy. "Hmm? What do you want now, baby?" Her rhythm is slower, teasing.

"I'm so fuckin close, can I please just cum?" Your hands clench open and closed behind you in desperation.

Wanda hums before she purses her lips, making her look far more innocent than her actions would dictate. " I don't know, I still feel like you haven't learned your place, honey. You might even use those claws for something you shouldn't…"

"I-" she can see your cheeks bloom with a blush at the situation You found yourself in. You were supposed to be angry, fight back, hold your ground even! But Wanda held all the cards and you knew it. You both knew.

And it didn't take her much to get here.

" Please, Wanda. I just wanna make you feel good, I just wanna cum!- I... I won't try anything. Just please…"

Wanda, continue to look down at you before her smirk returns. " You say please really pretty, puppy…"

You sounded pitiful to yourself. Practically groveling to fuck Wanda properly and cum, but at this point? Pride be damned. The red was all consuming.

But there are worse things to give in to.

[triponthelight]

Chills me down to my soul

Kraken!Danny Wagner x AFAB/GN Reader

18+

Warnings: graphic sexual content, horror themes, monster AU, inappropriate use of tentacles, a tad bit of degradation, weird autonomy (octopus stuff), penetrative sex (it ain't a dick though), reader fucking dies?, death mentioned multiple times, language/cursing, hostage situation, as always..shitty writing

Word count: 1.8k

ok this is not going to be everyones thing. this was a very self indulgent fic (as per usual), I could not shake the thought of kraken danny, so here it is. can y'all tell I'm fixed on pirates?

~

the night was cold.

You are traveling with a small group of pirates. At the moment, you are on a small boat, paddling to shore for a minor attack, planning to rob in the night and escape by sunrise. You had been rowing for about an hour, you had to keep the main ship far away from the land as to not alert the people. There was 7 of you total crammed on the vessel, 5 of which were asleep, leaving only you and one other awake.

Neither of you had spoken, not interested in conversation at the time. The water was still, making it fairly easy to cross. Well, you thought it was still, until there was a rough rock of the boat. It woke up two other men. You all looked around in confusion, but not seeing anything, relaxed back. A moment later, it happened again, rougher and repetitive, 3 times. Now everyone was awake. You looked out, the water was perfectly still. There was something beneath you.

Suddenly, the ship was forced to a full stop. You attempted to keep paddling to no avail. It was as if you were anchored down, or had crashed into something. You looked up at the bow to the first mate of the crew, who was facing you, looking confused and concerned.

"What in Gods name is going on?"

Your eyes widened as you looked past him. A massive tentacle was rising from the water, dead silent, rippling, poised to strike.

"Holy fuck"

You were cut off as it grabbed the man and pulled him down, and before you could process it, the boat was flipped. You can just barely hear the screams of your crew before you are submerged under the water. The dark sky makes it impossible to see anything in the sea. As death begins to take you, you can ever slightly feel something wrapping around you, pulling you down.

~

A loud thrumming pounds in your ears, a steady beating. You awake and sit up, coughing, hurling up water. The beat comes to a stop. You blink and rub at your eyes, trying to adjust to the light.

You are sitting in a dark, rocky cave. The ground is covered in ankle deep water. The air is chilled, the water cold. You are sopping wet and freezing, shaking.

In the dim light you can just barely make out a figure in the corner. It wasn't human. The only thing you could see were its eyes. They were dark, hungry. Staring into your soul. You shuffle back as much as you can before crashing into the back wall of the cave with a thud. It laughs softly. You glance around, trying to find any form of escape, yet there was nothing.

It slowly moves towards you. As it gets closer, you can start to see it's features. The top seems to be that of a man. Tall, muscular, pale. His jaw is sharp, his nose arched. He has long, black, curly hair. It's damp, sticking to his skin. His eyes are set on you. Deep browns, focused. Your eyes travel down his body, and the sight would have made you shiver if you weren't already. From his waist down came eight, thick, long, dark blue tentacles, moving in sync as he came over to you.

"What a pretty little thing."

The end of one of the tentacles wraps around one of your ankles and roughly drags you forward. You cry out and he shakes his head, the grip tightening.

"Hush. There's no one else here to listen."

When you quiet down, it loosens, but doesn't let go, instead, slithering up your leg, coiled around it. Another comes forward, wrapping around your other leg. They were wet, yet gave a little warmth. Alive. Through the material of your pants you could feel the hundreds of suckers that lined them, attaching themselves to you.

You writhe a bit against them and he leans down until he's eye to eye with you, head tilted, questioning. You stop to look up at him. He was actually rather handsome.

"Do I frighten you?"

His voice is soft, his eyes on yours. You weren't sure how to respond. You were terrified of him, yet intrigued. Curious what this creature was. You shake your head and his eyebrows raise in surprise.

"Really, now? You don't look too confident in that."

You sit up till you are nose to nose with him.

"I'm not scared."

He slowly blinks, and when he re-opens his eyes the whites have faded into a golden yellow, the pupils narrowing to thin black ovals. He grins.

"How about now?"

You lean back away from his face, startled. He tuts and brings a hand to the back of your neck, pulling you forward, forcing you to look at him.

"Ah-ah-ah, no. Look at me. Are you afraid?"

You stare into his eyes. His glare was intense. You swallow thickly.

"No."

His nails dig into your neck just a little bit. He shook his head and smiled.

"How interesting. You should be, you know?"

He wanted you to be afraid. Usually humans were horrified of him, and the fact you seemingly weren't pissed him off. You had every reason to be scared, but you were acting like you weren't.

"Why should I be?"

You boldly questioned. He laughed, baffled. He leaned back, speaking through gritted teeth. The tentacles tightened around your thighs and pulled, forcing them open.

"Are you stupid? Blind? You do realize the entirety of your little crew is dead because of me, right? I could kill you right now. Should have just let you drown with the rest of them."

You gave the smallest bit of a whine when the tip of one of the tentacles brushed across your crotch, not purposely. The creature quickly stopped his ranting, leaning towards you again, a smirk playing across his lips.

"Oh?.. Are you….sensitive?"

You knew your cheeks were flushing red. You couldn't believe yourself, getting aroused by some monster just barely touching you. One of his other tentacles coiled around your waist and lifted you up, holding you before him. You tried to squirm away but he held you firmly in place.

"You want more? Answer me."

Rationally, you should have said no. Rationally, you should have been trying to find an escape. But what did you have to lose? There was no way you were making it out of this alive, so why not indulge in one last fantasy before you're killed?

"Yes."

He grins and sets you back down. The tentacles come off of you for just a moment before one slithered back between your thighs. It nudged your shirt up your stomach before hooking into the tie holding your pants up, tugging it loose. Another tentacle snakes up and they both dip under your waistband and pull your pants entirely down and off.

He bites his bottom lip as he takes in the sight of you. You can see now his teeth are a little sharp, mainly the four front ones. Not extremely, but enough to be noticable. The end of a tentacle flicks at your inner thigh, a silent request for you to spread them more. He smiles when you obey.

The tip of the tentacle slowly runs up your cunt, brushing across your clit carefully. The sensation elicits a soft moan from you. He repeats this motion for a couple minutes, over and over until you are trembling with need. You look up to find his eyes entranced on your cunt.

"Please.."

You whine softly. He looks at your expression for a moment before he begins to slowly push the tentacle inside of you, his eyebrows knit together tight in concentration. A groan drags from deep in your throat at the burning stretch.

You could feel the suckers attaching themselves inside of you, creating a pulsing sensation, it was like nothing you had ever felt before. The creature hums softly, closing his eyes as if he was thinking deeply about something. He opened them again and leaned in close enough that you could feel his breath on your neck.

"You taste so sweet."

You looked up at him in confusion, trying to figure out what he meant, or how he knew what you tasted like. He laughed quietly.

"The suckers. That is how I taste. You've never seen an octopus before? I certainly can't taste with this."

With that, he leaned in and ran his tongue over your neck, and the feeling made you shudder. His tongue was covered in tiny little sharp teeth, scraping across your skin. A radula. You curled in on yourself, horrified of it. He sat back up, grinning.

"Oh my Gods. What the fuck-"

He cut your words off with a particularly deep thrust into you, making you stutter, a surprised moan slipping out. He continues at a slow pace, fucking you ruthlessly with his tentacle.

"Yeah? You like that, you little harlot?"

As he spoke he picked up a brutal pace, shoving it into you until you were writhing and clenching, crying as he brought you right to the edge. One of his free tentacles slid up and wrapped around your neck, not tight enough to kill you yet, but enough to make you struggle to breathe.

"So close!.."

You choked out.

"Give it to me."

His eyes flashed dark as he watched you intently. He was reaching a part of you that you didn't even know existed. This all felt so incredibly wrong, so strange, yet, you had never felt so good in your life.

You cried out as you came hard. He kept a relentless pace through it, fucking you until you were sobbing and shaking with overstimulation, begging him to stop. He slowly pulled the tentacle from you, leaving you feeling sore and hollow.

After a moment of just watching you, he moved his tentacle from your throat and instead to your waist, bringing you up by it so your face was close to his.

"Y'know, I was always told not to play with my food."

Your eyes widened at the realization. In the depths of pleasure, you had entirely forgotten just what you were dealing with. This beast had every intention of consuming you and there was nothing you could do to stop it.

Before you could even speak a word one of his hands slipped up and yanked your head back by the hair. His sharp teeth sunk into your neck, tearing through the flesh, fully ripping your jugular out.

The last thing you saw before the icy hands of death embraced you was his eyes. Far too human for the destruction they caused.

[prpfz]

Hey, there!! 🚬

I'm looking for something super self-indulgent! Some intense smutfishing is ahead involving my transman OC looking for a cis-male OC opposite! I prefer descriptions or drawings as opposed to real-life faceclaims.

I am unfortunately looking for someone to write as a dom/top to my bottom/sub. 😓 I usually write dominant characters, but I'm currently in dom/top fatigue and need to recharge. That being said, I am looking for NSFW, dark content, and dead dove themes! Specifically dealing with themes of noncon, detransitioning, forced feminization, and overall transphobia!

I'm 30+ and write mainly on Discord -- I can be talked into Tumblr DMs for this, though! I am literate, usually manage 3-4 replies a week, and am looking for 200-500 words per response! Third person, past or present tense!

I have two plots I am interested in writing for. However, I am super open to collaborating and adding more to the ideas, if you have them! In both plots, I'd like to write as my transman OC being taken advantage of by your cis-male character.

The first idea I have is simple -- your character clocks mine as a trans person in public. I'm open to playing my character as a newer transmale, so he would still have feminine traits. Wanting to humilitate him and take advantage, your character follows mine into the men's bathroom and forces himself on MC!

The second is a prison situation! Both of our characters are recently transferred inmates. My character was imprisoned in a men's only prison, but because he's been there for a while and has been denied gender reaffirming coverage, his testosterone levels have gone way down and he's become more feminized. I want YC to notice this jackpot that he's in and go for it!!

Feel free to like this ad and I'll reach out!

give a like and anon will get back to you

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Don’t Speak 1

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, obsession, stalking, manipulation, reclusive behaviour, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Reader is a reclusive loner who ventures down to the library on a simple mission. Her task is complicated by the man she meets there. (f!short!reader)

Character: librarian!Andy Barber

Note: I hope you don’t mind another venture into self-indulgence.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

Love you all. Take care. 💖

You stand at the stop and flip back the cover of your notebook. The worn cover inlaid with the images of petals grazes your fingertips as you reread the route number and compare it to the sign. The bus should be here soon. At least, that's what the website said.

You close the book and tuck it back under your arm, careful not to spill the documents nestled between the pages. You bounce on your sole and chew your lip, looking back down the grey street, the leftover dampness of the rain darkening the pavement. Your heart flutters and you shift to stand closer to the pole.

You've never taken the bus before. Just the idea scares you. Sat in a compartment amongst a horde of strangers. Even more, you're nervous you'll miss your stop. You'll just have to be diligent and keep count. There's only twelve between you and the library.

You reach in your pocket and scoop out the change. Three dollars from the old tin with the slot cut into the lid. Enough for the trip and more in your bag for the way back.

The rumble of the engine steals your attention and you look over as the gargantuan bus turns the corner. You try not to get too close to the curb but near enough that it stops.

The doors fold open, and your eyes round. Oh gosh. You make yourself get on and read the sign that directs you to drop the change in the machine. You do and the bus driver nods, rolling forward as you nearly fall off your feet.

You turn and grab onto a pole as you make your way toward the seats. Unsteadily, you find one, sitting on the edge as you bring your knapsack into your lap. You lean your notebook against it and open it up. Once more, you double-check the destination.

You keep from rocking anxiously as the bus halts again and more people get on. It starts to get crowded and you make yourself as small as you can as passengers sit on either side of you. You hug your bag and notebook against you tightly.

You keep your eyes on the floor, unsure of where else to look. Amber will be proud at least. You can't wait to tell her you took the bus all by yourself! She probably won't believe you.

The automated voice calls out your stop and you stand. You’re not used to the motion of the bus as you do and waver as you make your way to the doors, mimicking those before you. You wait until the wheels come to a stop and the doors flap open before you. You hop off onto the curb and catch your balance.

You look in your notebook, following the directions scribbled in your loopy cursive to the redbrick building. The large letters arched over the doors assures you of your arrival. Central Library.

You follow the mosaic walk to the steps and one of several doors. You enter meekly and pass through the next set of doors. You come into the grand lobby of the library, the scent of books overwhelming but comforting. It’s paradise, even if there are people all around.

You examine the floor first. Your habit of avoiding eye contact makes your navigation difficult. You read the signs that lead to the large desk and you follow the arrows, pausing to check which way to go. Registration or checkout.

You go to the left and wait behind the woman with her stroller and young child clinging to her hand. She hushes the toddler several times before she steps up and you pick at the corner of your notebook. You peer around briefly and take in the shelves, the cushioned benches, and computer stations. What you have a hard time focusing on are all the strange faces, some alone, others clustered together.

The woman ahead of you drags away her toddler as she pushes the carriage with one hand. She seems frustrated as she hisses at the child to stay close to her. You sway and tap your fingers against the back cover of your notebook.

“Next,” a deep voice calls gently. You don’t move, forgetting your mission for a moment before the subsequent word awakens you, “miss?”

Of course, it’s a man. It shouldn’t matter, you know, but you always feel a bit better with women. It’s very silly to think about it but you feel as if men are a mystery you can’t solve. That’s only because you’ve never spent very much time with them.

You look up and hurry forward with a muttered apology. A squeak so mousy that even in the low din of the library, it’s barely heard. You place your notebook on the counter and stare at the laminated sign across the wood. A rundown of what you need to get a card.

You open the cover and carefully take out the contents hidden in the small pocket; your ID card and a piece of mail. You lay them out, sliding them across.

“I’d like to register for a library card,” you eke out as you drag your fingers back along the page, across the hasty sketch of a moth in inky blue.

“Sorry?” A pair of large hands spread across the counter as the shadow looms at the top of your vision, “I can’t hear you, miss. Were you looking to get a card?”

You nod and force out a vocal confirmation, “yes.”

“Yes?” He sounds perplexed.

You clear your throat and raise your eyes, just a little. Not to his face, you’re not ready for that. You look at his shirt, a crisp collar peek out from a dark blue vest. You pull your hands back to smooth your mauve sweatshirt, feeling underdressed.

“Okay, just a moment,” he says as he pushes away from the desk.

Your cheek twitches and you turn your head away, focusing on the bookmarks in the plastic holder just to the right. They are marked as a dollar each with proceeds going to the library. If you come back, you’ll have to bring some extra change. If it’s okay with Amber.

He comes back and places down a white card with a blue border. He types in the computer behind the rack of bookmarks and takes your ID. He sets it back down and grabs the mail, his fingers continue swiftly over the keys. He puts the ID atop the paper and slides it back across. He picks up the card and swipes it along a small black scanner.

“Alright, so, you’ll want to key in a pin,” he holds out a keypad to you, “this will be your password for your online account and the WiFi.”

You reach for the keypad and take it gently. You stare at it unsure. You sense the man watching you. Gosh, you hate to be such a bother.

“Just four digits,” he instructs.

You nod and put in Amber’s birthday before handing it back. He sets it down and hits a few more keys. He swipes the card a second time and offers it to you. You gather up the paper and your ID before accepting the card.

“Thank you,” you murmur.

“No problem,” he says. His tone is smooth and calm. It’s not as scary as you expected. “If you need anything else, you can just ask.”

You close the notebook and slip the library card into your jeans pocket. You keep your chin down as you turn and wander off towards the shelves. Finally, you lift your head and look around, taking in the vast array of books.

As much as you want to hide at home, you don’t know that you ever want to leave this place.

🎨

You find a table in the basement. It’s quiet there, mostly empty. The reference section doesn’t seem to be the most popular. 

You have your stack of books, each call number matched perfectly to those listed in your notebook. You open the first, admiring each colourful image. You take your time as you read the species name and genus of one bird after the other.

You got the idea from the cardinal in your window the other morning. The vibrant red stuck in your mind even after the shy bird winged away at the slightest movement. You’d been looking for a new subject. Your usual work centered on soft petals and sharp thorns, but the feathers filled your head with fantastical images.

The money you bring in with your artwork isn’t enough to offer much help to Amber. She works forty hours in an office and never complains. Yet you can’t help but feel like a slug, like a leech. She’s your sister, she loves you, she assures you, but you love her too. You want to give more so it would do well to sell more.

Variety. That’s what the articles say. You should offer more variety to increase your sales. More than roses and lilies.

You stop at the cardinal, a burning red male and a dainty grey female. You almost think the latter is prettier. Muted but beautiful. You smile and smooth your hand over the page.

You unzip your knapsack and pull out your tablet. You fold the case to prop it up at an angle and free the pen from the loop. You unlock the screen but hesitate as you hear… something.

You look around but don't see anyone or anything. You're too afraid to get up and check in case you do run into someone. What does it matter if someone's looking at books? It's a public library. 

You hunch down and begin the linework, losing yourself in your art as you so often do. How many hours have drifted by as you pour yourself into a simple drawing. You almost forget where you are as you search for the right shade of red on the color wheel.

A noise brings your head up and you glance up at the figure between the rows only feet away from you. He pulls the cart back from the shelf where it collided and sets it straight. You watch his arms, too afraid to follow them up to his face. His hands are large as they take out three books between them, his forearms bulging beneath the sleeves rolled to his elbows.

You quickly tuck your chin down again as you sense him looking back at you. You know by the dark brown plaid of his shirt that it’s the same librarian who issued your card. You roll the end of the pen against your lip as you struggle to refocus on your tablet.

You work at the soft feathers of the wings, laying a base layer for the finer details. You pull the book closer to compare and poke your tongue out as you squint. Books shift and slide on the shelf as the man continues to work. You’re overly aware of his presence as he bears down on you, the cart wheeling closer to your table.

You ignore him as best you can, your head racing with regret and doubt. You should’ve stayed home. You could’ve Googled all this. You could’ve gone to the park and found a real cardinal. You could’ve done anything but this. You don’t like people around you when you’re drawing.

He rolls by to the shelfs perpendicular to your table, now at your back as you aimlessly hover over the spectrum of RGB. You close it out and set back to your deliberate layers. A wheel squeaks and the man clears his throat.

“You like birds?” He keeps his voice low.

You flinch and grasp the tablet, unfolding the cover to conceal your work. You lay it flat and shrug. You don’t want anyone to see your unfinished work, no one.

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t trying to intrude. I just… you’re very talented. And uh,” he comes closer and waves a finger towards the open book, “I love cardinals. There’s some out in the courtyard here. We have a birdhouse. Pretty lively when it’s not grey as bones out.”

You blink and stare at the lilac cover of your tablet. You wiggle the pen and nod. You don’t know what to say. You can’t find your voice, croaking out a fizzly ‘thank you’.

“I’m sorry I disturbed you,” he backs off and returns to his cart, “I’ll leave you be.”

You keep your face angled away from him and pull the book closer. You admire the different angles of the majestic red bird. The way the feather’s form a sharp point behind its head and the cut of its short beak. You might put yours in a wreath of ivy, that would be pretty.

You hear the cart groan as the librarian drags it away. You blow out between tight lips as you dare to peek over, making sure of his departure. Alone again, you open the cover of your tablet and tap it to life. You’ll get a bit more done and take a few books with you. You could come back again… or have your sister drop off the returns.

[fireflylitsky]

OK so Iove the dadkuzu and fuu content on ur blog and art and iv been enjoying the idea of like... team sensei kakuzu? (And how much of a grumpy old man he'd be about it) but! Okay imagine since Hidan is from a village who didn't want shinobi they made an agreement to send them to the waterfall- so Kakuzu gets a genin team to (affectionately) annoy him and a hidan to (thirstily) annoy him.

Just wanted to share the idea with someone hope u dont mind lol

KAKUZU SENSEI. Yes. You have no idea how much I love this. There is this awesome art of a Leaf village Kakuzu AU with a genin squad of Hidan, Sasori and Deidara and it’s like, the cutest thing ever, I think about it all the time. Sadly I can’t find it for the life of me rn 🙁

So listen. Listen. I’ve got thoughts. 

Firstly, thank you for enjoying my Dadkuzu content. Its very self-indulgent and it pleases me to no end to know that literally anyone else in this world likes it too <3

Okay okay okay so here’s the scenario. Yugakure gives the big F you to all their nin because hot spring tourism makes more money and involves less death and violence than ninja stuff. (Honestly when I put it like this, I get it.) 

UNLIKE CANON, let’s say they are decent about how they handle their existing shinobi, and make deals with other villages to relocate them accordingly. Like you said. 

Now, Takigakure is pretty small, so they only agree to take in a few. Hidan, a jōnin squad leader, arrives with two little genin gremlins, and they are to join Team Kakuzu, which currently consists of him and one other genin—Fuu. (LOOK I HAVE TO KEEP THEM TOGETHER OKAY)

Obviously there are not usually two senseis per unit, however this format is put in place so Hidan can shadow Kakuzu and “learn the ropes” so-to-speak. Eventually, after he’s integrated into Taki, they’ll reevaluate him for his own pack of little shits. 

asjdhfgajdsh I can just see Kakuzu being told that he’s the one being given the stupid experimental team and rejecting it outright (as if he has a choice). He barely wants to babysit this bug brat from his own village, he definitely doesn’t want to look after two more and a full-grown adult from Day Spa Village or wherever.

Kakuzu: “No. Someone else can do it.”

Elder #1: “How strange. I only see your name here on the assignment.” (Yes, I am making the elders snarky and mischievous and no one can stop me)

Kakuzu: “Write someone else’s then.”

Elder #2: *Reaches over and scribbles something quickly* “Ah, my hand slipped and I ended up writing ‘Kakuzu’ again. Oh well!”

Kakuzu: “What. Stop being silly and just change the damn na—"

Elder #3: “We didn’t allow you to have the forbidden Spaghetti Guts Jutsu just so you could relax, Kakuzu.”

Kakuzu: “For the last time, stop calling it that.”

Elder #1: “Hehe they arrive tomorrow, ‘kay? See you then, goodniiiight~”

Kakuzu: “It’s noon. Stop. Where are you—”

All Elders: *Giggling in the distance* hehehehe

Kakuzu: “…Going…” -_- *pulls hand down face*

Cue a terrible introduction the next day in which Kakuzu hates Hidan before he even meets him, so he DEFINITELY hates him after he does. Fuu is SO excited though. It might be the team’s saving grace to be honest. Anyway, thanks for your thoughts, Nonnie, I love them. 😊

[utaicon]

★・ABOUT・★

★・call me adrien

★・I use he/it primarily, but feel free to ask about my neopronoun hoard

★・This is a sideblog, my main is @2-kamikou-1 !

★・Fandom edit blog, sources listed below

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All my edits are free to use, with the only rule being you must reblog them and credit me.

note: I am still doing edits for Palestine outside of strike days.

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★・NOTE: if we are mutuals/friends, I might be willing to overlook some of these rules (like if you leave out a detail in an ask I might fill in the blanks based on things I know you like). But if and only if we are muts.・★

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・requests for any of the following will be deleted or declined.・

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★・WHITELIST ・★

・requests for any of the following will be prioritized.・

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★・(characters) Matsudappoiyo | Nightcord at 25:00, Wonderlands x Showtime, Toya, Akito, Airi, Saki, Honami | Rui Ayaki, Enmu, Nezuko, Zenitsu, Inosuke, Mitsuri, Tengen, Kanao, Aoi | Kenma, Hinata | Toko, Kyoko, Sakura, Aoi, Mondo, Chihiro, Sayaka, Celeste, Akane, Hajime, Nagito, H-y-ko (i know some people dont like her so her name is censored 👍) Mahiru, Kazuichi, Ibuki, all the udg kids | August, Hirano

★・(ships) Mizuena, Anhane, Kanamafu, Ruikasa, Shizuai, Shizurui, Shizukasa, Shizuruikasa, Mizurui, Mafurui, Kanarui, anything niigosho tbh, Honasaki, Emunene, Mafunene, Honasaki | Kagehina | Tokomaru, Ishimondo, Akanidai | Obamitsu, Aoino, Shinomitsu | Calaug

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★・DNI ・★

racist, queerphobic, ableist, anti-neopronouns/xenogenders, transandrophobic, discourse-focused blogs nsfw blog, anti-recovery, (pro)transx, pro map/nomap/pedo

★・BYI ・★

i am in no way against agere, but i cannot and will not guarantee everything on this blog will be child-safe. There's nothing explicitly nsfw but there are curse words, some sources i edit may involve violence or curse words, and things of that nature

as stated above I barely know about kinning and irls and things of that nature, i have surface level knowledge just from interacting w people who are kins/irls/ids etc but like that's it. I try to be friendly and welcome to everyone, though.

I'm human, I make mistakes. If i offend on accident, please, i am begging you to tell me. it's never intentional, I'm always trying to better myself.

・divider credit・

・layout credit・

・replycons by me・

[darkrpfinders]

Hey, there!! 🚬

I'm looking for something super self-indulgent! Some intense smutfishing is ahead involving my transman OC looking for a cis-male OC opposite! I prefer descriptions or drawings as opposed to real-life faceclaims.

I am unfortunately looking for someone to write as a dom/top to my bottom/sub. 😓 I usually write dominant characters, but I'm currently in dom/top fatigue and need to recharge. That being said, I am looking for NSFW, dark content, and dead dove themes! Specifically dealing with themes of noncon, detransitioning, forced feminization, and overall transphobia!

I'm 30+ and write mainly on Discord -- I can be talked into Tumblr DMs for this, though! I am literate, usually manage 3-4 replies a week, and am looking for 200-500 words per response! Third person, past or present tense!

I have two plots I am interested in writing for. However, I am super open to collaborating and adding more to the ideas, if you have them! In both plots, I'd like to write as my transman OC being taken advantage of by your cis-male character.

The first idea I have is simple -- your character clocks mine as a trans person in public. I'm open to playing my character as a newer transmale, so he would still have feminine traits. Wanting to humilitate him and take advantage, your character follows mine into the men's bathroom and forces himself on MC!

The second is a prison situation! Both of our characters are recently transferred inmates. My character was imprisoned in a men's only prison, but because he's been there for a while and has been denied gender reaffirming coverage, his testosterone levels have gone way down and he's become more feminized. I want YC to notice this jackpot that he's in and go for it!!

Feel free to like this ad and I'll reach out!

.

[fountainpenguin]

Can you share some of what your planning process for long fics is like? What kind of outlines do you do or what prep do you do to get in the zone?

Thanks for the ask! [Tagging #ridspoilers for minor plot outline, birthday, and alien planet calendar spoilers for Origin of the Pixies, Frayed Knots, and Factor It In]

---

I write on Google Docs; it might not be for everyone but it's what I've found to work well for me after a lifetime of writing (Ex: When I was a kid, I used WordPerfect and Dropbox and it would take hours to sync my documents before a long road trip... I travel between two locations a lot, so these days I just pop open the Google Docs app on my phone or use the Edit Offline extension on my laptop and it's always up to date, which works great for me!)

I also like Google Docs because I can link between documents and have lots of open tabs [along the top of the browser] in "one tab" [along the bottom bar], which isn't something I was able to do as a kid or with Microsoft Word, and it just helps me feel clean.

---

Masterlist Doc [1 per fandom]

I keep all my Fairly OddParents 'fics in a doc titled FOP 'Fic Masterlist. I have my most important resources at the top and they're all broken down with clear labels and doc links.

This way, even if I haven't accessed a doc in a while [meaning it doesn't come up when I type its name in the URL search bar], I always know where I can find it. Also, thanks to my edit offline extension, all I need is this one link and I know I'll be able to open any doc I need.

I have a lot of 'fics, so this doc is several pages. If you've ever read my FFN or AO3 bios and saw that note about how I keep a queued Tumblr post containing links to my unfinished 'fics in case I unexpectedly die, that queued post links to this doc!

You'll also notice that I have distinct scrap docs for Origin, Knots, and the 130 Prompts. I change or cut a lot of stuff and it's nice to keep the old WIPs in case I ever want to look back on them (each of those docs is 25k words just of scraps). Sometimes those scenes get recycled, but usually they just sit there. It's a lot easier to cut things from a story when you have a place to put them and you're not deleting them forever.

[Cnt'd under the cut]

---

Table of Contents Doc [1 per long 'fic]

All my long 'fics have a table of contents doc, which I highly recommend for anyone doing a large multi-chapter project. I always slap the cover image, a height chart, or a character reference on top to make it pretty, then the doc will contain some notes I might need. For example, Origin's doc has two height charts:

and this-

Makes it easy to know where to find things. Also, you don't have to draw your own height charts, but I recommend keeping a list of heights on hand. Even if you don't tell the reader someone's exact measurements, it's always nice to get a feel for how characters compare to others and whether they should be looking up or down.

Come What May's doc has this screenshot comparison on it, which I put together by measuring different characters who appear next to each other as carefully as I could, and it works too:

Obviously Kevin and Molly never appear in the same episode, but since they're about to become step-siblings in Come What May, it was important to me that I knew how tall they were, so I measured Molly against Timmy and then Timmy against Kevin. Same for Mrs. Crocker, who I measured against Timmy to get a feel for how tall Kevin is compared to his grandma.

I know it's a fanfic so it doesn't really matter, but you have to do self-indulgent things sometimes :)

Frayed Knots also has Sunnie's character reference [i.e. Anti-Cosmo's patron nature spirit, the water dude], which I just want to show off because this is still really good art for something I drew in 2017:

Other things I keep in my table of contents docs are lists of episodes where certain characters appear, random notes that I need to keep track of (like any canonized character addresses or allergies), and chapter title ideas. I also keep track of the starlight levels [i.e. which season it's bright outside vs. dark], school year reminders, and Anti-Fairy migration season.

I keep my Vatajasa name chart in Knots too:

Factor It In's table doc contains a list of villains who appear in the 'fic (Red for ones who don't appear, green for those who do). It also links to the Wiki page for the Evil Villains Association so I can remember which villains are and aren't in it. It also has my timeline details:

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Timeline Notes

Factor It In is set in 1998, and my table doc has all the notes I used to narrow down to that date (ex: I originally planned to set it in 1987 because I felt that the late 80s fit the technology level we see in the show before I re-watched the episode "There's No V In Team," which specifically refers to the year 1987 as having happened in the past).

One of the reasons I liked using 1987 originally was because Factor It In is a story about Kid Math training under WordGirl, and it takes place shortly after the Kid Math episode, which aired in 2014. Factor It In opens in early January, so I like the Easter egg that the 2015 calendar would be the same even if we took its airdate literally. 1998 was the only year in the 90s that also matched the calendar, so that's what I ended up with.

I like keeping my timeline notes around so if I take a hiatus, I can always come back and remind myself why I picked stuff. Also it's way easier to expand your worldbuilding if you kept your notes... it's awful if you threw your math away and have to start over (I once redid an entire timeline because someone said I'd messed up the dates on my chart, and I believed them and redid it all, only to realize several months later when I ran into a timeline problem that my math had actually been right all along :') Don't be like me. Record your work and leave notes explaining why.)

[I always use THIS calendar website when I'm planning timelines. It tracks moon phases, which was important when @zachbrightside and I were working on the FOP timeline and heavily relying on moon phases as a guide, and you can easily type any year and month into the URL bar so it's super easy to navigate.]

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Birthday Notes

I also kept all my notes on determining birthdays (very important for long 'fics with lots of characters that take place over several months! One of my FOP resource docs is specifically for birthdays and annual events, ranging from parades to anniversaries to carnivals).

My headcanon for Becky Botsford's birthday is July 28th. We know she starts the series at age 9 and has a birthday in Season 1 episode 4, meaning she's 10 for much of the series. There are at least two episodes where she cites her ages as "10 and a half," and we saw that in her next birthday episode ("A World Without WordGirl"), her cake had 11 candles on it.

Show canon implies that time IS passing and that the show doesn't exist in a timeless void (see also, Timmy Turner wishing to freeze time for 50 years), so it was important to me that I nail down her birthday. I knew I wanted it to take place after Rhyme and Reason if possible since there are no more birthday episodes, though I would also be fine with having "Rhyme and Reason" shortly after her birthday [to ensure she stays 10 and 11 for the majority of show canon].

Here are some of my notes on her birthday for anyone interested (Hopefully they're not too squished):

^ Like I said, I switched 1987 to 1998, but yeah. Rex's birthday comes out to June 13th, 1989 and Becky's is July 28th, 1986.

Clickable links for Rex and Becky on the age calculator if you're curious... Important for me since one of Rex's math powers is to always know how old someone is to the day.

Fun Fact - I deliberately gave Rex June 13th as a birthday so he would share a birthday with Foop, who is also a Season 7 Episode 1 debut kid over in Fairly OddParents :)

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Having birthdays planned is also nice for when I want to write multiple 'fics in the same world, even if they're not the same 'fic. In my story "Flypaper," which takes place in early June, Rex is eagerly awaiting his 17th birthday and Becky muses on how she'll be turning 20 at the end of the summer... Just a nice detail not only to set the scene, but also to help the story feel grounded and realistic since one of the themes of "Flypaper" was that Becky felt time was slipping away from her.

It's also important to note that Rex and Becky are always among the youngest in their school years since they have summer birthdays. Tobey is 12 for most of the time Becky is 11... Little details that don't take a long time to plan for, but can really help a story feel like the author put effort into the world.

Again, I highly recommend leaving clear notes to yourself about why you're doing certain timeline things. I much prefer having the breakdown of the episodes I looked at over simply leaving a note to myself that Becky's birthday is July 28th!

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Character Arc Notes

Before planning the events of the story, it helps to get an idea for what themes and character traits you want to focus on. Frayed Knots is about love and betrayal- it's about Anti-Cosmo pushing for what he wants even though it hurts his loved ones (appropriate theme for a villain backstory 'fic).

I want to show some notes I have for Factor It In because I think they're interesting. Factor It In is my first attempt at doing a story that deliberately focuses around two protagonists and their separate but equally important character arcs, and I'm excited :)

Everything that's in my doc is the "tell" part of "show don't tell." The story tries to show what I have in my notes:

Rex arc - Lack of Stability / Lack of Control - Failing, getting tricked, being unwanted, not good enough, not understanding things. Being in foster care is scary. Unfamiliar planet is scary Show Kid Math always being super inquisitive. He always wants to learn. He knows the most, he is the best, he gets upset when he's fooled or when he fails. He was 2nd best in school. He feels lost when he doesn't know what's happening in his future. Gets upset when WordGirl doubts his decisions. In the opening scene of Factor, he's mind controlled by Mr. Big. Literally has no control Kid Math clings to his superhero certification / Hexagonian education. He was raised by his aunts and has basically no relationship with his parents (though he tries to hide the fact that this hurts him). He feels like a burden; he feels like his mom considered him "too much work" and that his father considers him "not worth bothering to visit." Rex constantly struggles under this fear that he's a burden. He wants to prove himself a good superhero so that his education (and life) aren't "a waste." Conflict: Kid Math has already spent his entire life feeling like he's no one's first choice; that he's only "second best" (because he was second to top of his class in school). He understands that he and WordGirl are sharing the city, but it's important to him that he's considered an equal. He wants people to like him. It hurts when WordGirl comes on too strong and makes it obvious she lacks faith in him, because he feels like a burden: his worst nightmare. Throughout the story, Rex internalizes his successes and failures. He cannot separate his superhero identity from his civilian identity. He always sees himself as "Rex, who trained to become a superhero." He calls himself Rex and has no distinction in his mind. His secrets slip, he uses his powers when he's Rex, and he expects people to attribute KM's failures to Rex (Ex: school kids laugh at how he falls for tricks as Kid Math and it upsets him as Rex). Rex values control, and will do all he can to avoid losing control. His deadly sin is Wrath, but he has a lot of emotional control and will try to remove himself from the situation. As long as he has his safe space and his comfort things, he's okay. We get several scenes of him wanting to break stuff when he's upset but he holds back... with the underlying tension of wondering how long he'll last before he snaps (pitting his nightmare of losing control against Becky's nightmare of losing his friendship).

I want to highlight the part about how Rex cannot separate his two identities. This is something I showed even back in "AlgoRhythm" - Rex always calls himself "Rex" inside his head, even when he's dressed as Kid Math. However, when I write from Becky's POV, the third-person writing swaps between calling her "Becky" or "WordGirl" depending on how she's dressed.

I also have notes about how Rex's character arc relates to the story's finale, but that's spoilers. Since Rex's character arc is about how he hates not having control, then the worst thing that could happen to him is not having a say in things: hence why the plot about bouncing between foster families is such a hard thing for him to go through. Eventually, he'll also be put in a position where he needs to think about who he is as Rex vs. who he is as Kid Math, and we'll see that in the story climax.

Becky has a fun arc too:

Becky arc - Loss / Change - People being hurt, losing her friends, hurting or losing her family. Fear of change. Show WordGirl being upset when relationships fracture, even with people who aren't super close to her. She struggles with the idea of Kid Math befriending her villains or losing her position as a hero and getting replaced by Kid Math. Put simply, WordGirl is a control freak who refuses to admit this to herself. WordGirl struggles to relinquish control to Kid Math (which is where they come in conflict since he ALSO feels stressed when he doesn't have control). WordGirl is a bit of a helicopter mentor; she hovers around Rex, interferes with his work, and just generally gets in his way (which is pretty funny imo since Rex never got in her way during "Kid Math"- he's capable, he just causes problems with social interaction and not with the actual fighting... WordGirl gets the social interaction part but definitely gets in the way). Conflict: WordGirl doesn't enjoy having Rex around, but she can't tell him that because it might hurt his feelings and that would cause her "loss and change" pain. She would feel guilty and sad. Rex being Exposition Guy's foster kid is a big source of conflict between them, as Rex believes he should "get dibs" on info EG shares. WordGirl stresses when Rex doesn't do things "her way" and Rex gets frustrated that she doesn't trust him. Tensions keep rising because WordGirl starts seeing "the bad" in Rex; she keeps seeing Miss Power traits in him and she worries that Miss Power might have been his teacher back on Hexagon. Her nosiness strains Rex's trust in her and he starts pulling away emotionally... sending her into a spiral about change and loss (especially as more and more villains and civilians grow familiar with Kid Math and start to think he's cool). Lots of resentment towards Kid Math for "replacing her" even though she NEVER admits that to herself; she still has trace amounts of jealousy towards him in later stories like "Flypaper..." WordGirl doesn't mean to be jealous or greedy, but it's always been one of her flaws (i.e. someone else getting a key to the city, or when she snapped during Miss Power special about Chuck getting a collectible unicorn, wanting to show off a bit during "Invisible Hand"). She's a very nice person but Envy is absolutely her deadly sin.

So yeah! Fun times ahead; I'm excited.

We've already started seeing cracks form between her and Chuck... In Chapter 4, Chuck confronts her, asking if WordGirl is retiring and if he'll still get to see her. Chuck has his own little character arc in the background, which is that he broke his foot a few days before the story starts- he has to sit on the sidelines watching the other villains get "WordGirl time" while he has to watch Kid Math go through hero training.

A lot of other characters have small arcs too, though Chuck's and Victor Best's are probably the most notable-- Chuck and Victor are both characters who struggle with being "the second best" compared to a more successful sibling, so they resonate heavily with Rex's character arc.

WordGirl's arc is about control, so Mr. Big and Tobey (mind control and robots) are pretty obvious choices for her, along with Dr. Two-Brains... but actually, Granny May and Eileen are two villains I really wanted to look at in Factor It In. Granny May's life hinges around being a "people person" (to the point that she had an episode about how she could be way more successful with a different schtick; she just likes talking to people too much to trade that for success).

Granny May is super calculating and manipulative and she also struggles with little losses of control in her daily life (getting on in years, mobility issues, and the episode "Granny's Book Club" where the Evil Villains Association tried to force her to retire). I like Granny May because she looks like this sweet old lady but she also, like. can fly and has a robot suit, which is SO funny.

With her cold, calculating patience and her manipulative ways, Granny May represents the worst of Rex AND Becky at the same time, which is great. I'm excited to get to her chapters. Eileen is also a fun villain to juxtapose Becky because she's the embodiment of envy, which Becky struggles with, so I'm looking forward to that too.

A lot of characters are also working on school projects, so they always have "something to do" or "something that is causing them stress." Mapping out the background character arcs and conflicts can help the story feel more alive, and I think that's a useful part of outlining :)

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Once you know your character arcs ["What is my character's biggest fear, what is something my character will do wrong, what event forces them to face their fear, and how do they resolve this situation in a way that shows them growing as a person?"] then the story sort of writes itself :)

Make sure you have a goal or a problem and make sure there's a reason they can't achieve the goal or solve their problem in the first chapter. Here are some examples from 3 of my long 'fics:

Origin of the Pixies - Fergus (i.e. H.P.) fears being responsible for others... His father wants him to study psychology and take over the family therapy business (Wish Fixers) even though carrying the weight of others' emotional problems sounds like the worst fate imaginable... so Fergus cuts ties with Dad, drops out of the Fairy Academy and runs away from home. Now he only looks out for himself, can start his own business if he wants to, and he can drink and party all the time. What could be better than that?

Fergus's nightmare of being responsible becomes unavoidable when he (a pixie) starts reproducing asexually... during a time when no one really knows what pixies are and Fairy World has a baby ban in place. Fergus pursues a life of business and money-making, fighting to provide for Sanderson and the rest of his clone offspring (some of whom are predisposed by their genetics to kill him when they come of age, which is fun). Things get even worse when Fairy World and Anti-Fairy World go to war... Being responsible for kids during a time of peace was hard enough, but war? Forget it.

After successfully navigating the chaos of war, Fergus is ready to settle back into a peaceful life, but tumultuous politics keep him on his toes. His best friend - the leader of Anti-Fairy World - gets overthrown by hotshot Anti-Cosmo, and Fergus is forced to re-evaluate his friendships, priorities, political alignments, and personal needs if he wants to maintain political piece between the Pixies and Anti-Fairies.

While raising his pixie clones, Fergus has always kept them at arm's length and called them "interns" or "employees" or even "nephews" to avoid calling them his sons. The older he gets, the less he's able to do the things he liked to do in his younger years - goof off, wrestle, attend parties - and the more he needs to think about putting his pixies first. As death looms nearer and nearer, Fergus grows increasingly desperate to ensure his pixies will still thrive without him... and he'll do anything, regardless of who it hurts or how badly he endangers the magical world, to ensure they do.

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Frayed Knots - Anti-Cosmo fears being unloved; his father isn't in the picture, his older brother is aloof, and his mother isn't kind to him. He's desperate to not grow old without a soulmate by his side. When he fails to match with a partner during a betrothal ceremony, he lies his way through it and tricks his peers into believing Anti-Saffron is his fated match.

As the centuries pass, it becomes more difficult to maintain the lie and Anti-Cosmo begins questioning whether maintaining his relationship with Anti-Saffron is even worth it. Breaking things off in a society that believes in luck and fate, however, is incredibly risky and could get him labeled as an outcast for the rest of his life.

Anti-Cosmo struggles to balance his dying feelings for Anti-Saffron with his growing feelings for Anti-Wanda, and things get trickier and trickier as his friends realize he's been lying all his life and start pushing him away. Finally, Anti-Cosmo has to choose between his comfy lies and his betrothed or else throw away everything so he can chase after Anti-Wanda... who might abandon him too, just like his friends did, and leave him alone and unloved.

Anti-Cosmo maintains his lies as long as he can, hurting his loved ones in the process, and struggles to pick up the pieces left behind. Even if no one else forgives him, he can't keep living in the past; he has to learn to forgive himself if he hopes to be approachable and trustworthy again. Being an evil villain, though, I guess whether or not he grows as a person is up for some debate...

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Factor It In (Rex) - Rex values his personal achievements; he finds joy in superhero work and regularly brags about himself, his schooling, and his home planet Hexagon in general (right down to the fact that his planet has "the tastiest raisins in the universe.") Unfortunately, he's stuck in a cycle of giving his all but never feeling satisfied with his achievements because he's "never the best." One of his greatest fears is being confronted with evidence that he really is a burden and a failure, which would absolutely crush his spirit.

Rex doesn't love the way that Becky pushes him around; she's not mean, she just tries to guide him towards foster care even though he doesn't want to go. He doesn't speak up about it because he wants to put his faith in her and believe that he can learn from her and become a better person (since "being a good person" is the one thing he values above personal pride). He still feels inexperienced and overwhelmed in the early chapters, so he's hesitant to speak up and explain why he doesn't like what Becky's doing... up until she starts crossing his boundaries and then he has to draw the line.

Rex's desire for independence leads him to trust very easily. He puts his faith in Victor, Tobey, Chuck, and Granny May, who steer him down a wobbly path of moral grays. Becky keeps pushing him further away, so Rex continues bonding with the villains because he feels safe with them. Obviously this doesn't end well and he has to face the consequences of choosing the villains over his friendship with WordGirl.

In his determination to mend things with WordGirl, Rex accidentally lands both of them in a terrible situation and puts them (and therefore the rest of the city) in danger. In order to fix this, he has to push through his personal pride (Ow), accept his mistake (Double ow), and go against his training (which became useless while Bad Situation is in effect) so he can find a new way to save the day.

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Factor It In (Becky) - Becky values her identity as a superhero and how much work she puts into protecting the city. She fears that Kid Math will be a worse hero than her (endangering people) but also fears Kid Math will be a better hero than her (blow to her self-confidence).

She can't resolve this problem in Chapter 1 because she's scared of hurting his feelings and would rather try other options to avoid direct confrontation; instead, she deals with her concerns by trying to "fix" Kid Math. She trains him and pushes him towards foster care. As long as she feels like she's helping him, she's assuaging both fears: she's proving she's "better" and she's helping him not be worse. Ergo, she "no longer has a problem."

Becky's already on a path that puts her in conflict with Rex, who desires control over his own life and has to deal with her pushing him around until he can't take it any more. Conflict arises when Becky oversteps boundaries and breaks Rex's trust in her. Things get worse when she makes a mistake that sours the city's attitude towards her. Her worst nightmare is coming true: she's "not as good as Kid Math" and people might get hurt without her.

As things keep getting worse for the city and Rex is struggling, it's obvious that she and Kid Math need to team up again. That means repairing their friendship... which she can only do if she proves that she really does trust Rex to do things by himself. Therein lies the pickle...

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Anyway, I really rambled on there, but... Point being, a lot of fun stuff goes in my table docs, and this is the type of outlining I like to do for characters and story plots.

I highly recommend having a table of contents doc for long 'fics. You don't need to bog it down with all your worldbuilding notes (Hopefully you have a separate place you can put those, like a Tumblr blog or other docs), but for things that you know you'll definitely need and are worried you might not be able to find again, I highly recommend keeping them in the table doc.

You shouldn't normally be editing your table doc after you've done your outlining, which means you're less likely to accidentally delete important notes (compared to keeping them in a story doc) and you won't bog your story doc down with stuff you need to scroll past.

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Chapter Docs [1 per chapter]

I have links to all my individual chapter docs (important to me since my chapters are normally 10k+ words... Can't fit everything in one doc or it would be a pain to navigate and take an age to load).

Here are some snippets of my outlines. As you can see, the descriptions I have in my table docs are loose and vague:

This is from Come What May:

Come What May is special because it takes place over just a few days (while my long 'fics span months or even thousands of years). It's based around Kevin's appearances in Fairly OddParents Season 10.

I wanted to share this because even though my notes for "Cold Shadow" are basically nothing, it still gives the info that's actually important for me to know when returning to this project after a hiatus: "Here's exactly what day it is in the timeline. This episodes shows kids turning in a homework assignment on the founding fathers, which means we need to see Kevin doing this homework assignment (or at least acknowledging it) in prior chapters.

Regardless of the weird supernatural stuff Kevin is dealing with in this 'fic, it's still intended to be canon compliant, and I know that's a detail Future Me could easily forget but would want to know. It's like what I said earlier about birthdays and timelines: leave yourself clear notes. You'll never regret having too many notes, especially if you intend to return to a project after a long hiatus.

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Origin - I unfortunately scrapped my descriptions for all previous chapters of Origin and Knots so forgive the "spoilers," ha ha

Origin was originally drafted in a single document, which I later split into separate chapter docs. That's why I have notes like "Hawkins hand scene." I know exactly what that's referring to and my table of contents doc helps me remember which chapter it got moved to.

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Knots - I wanted to show these to emphasize how vague some of these are:

Even though they're vague, you can get a good sense of the direction the story is going. Outlining doesn't have to be a painful, in-depth process. You can knock out the basics in a single afternoon if you just sit down and do it.

I picked one chapter and opened it at random ("Fox's Folly") and it has 8k words in its draft right now. "Tipping Scales" has 15k. At the time of making this post, Frayed Knots only has 34 chapters posted in public, so we're at least 1 or 2 years away from getting to this point, yet there's already a lot of draft info I can go back to. I've added a lot of bits and pieces to these chapters over the years and sometimes I just open them when I'm in the mood for reading something fun.

Having the documents already set up in advance brings you one step closer to opening them and throwing stuff in them and I highly recommend that.

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Factor - These chapter outlines are more detailed (minus the early ones... the first 3 chapters were drafted as 1 chapter originally). If you've actually read Factor thus far, however, you'll notice that the scenes in my outline don't match perfectly with the finally chapters. And that's okay! The outlines are just guidelines and the final chapter can be different:

Lots of screenshots but I feel like my Factor doc is the most authentic look at my outline process (since it's recent while Origin and Knots were outlined like 7 years ago). I use black on my initial draft and red for things I change on a later sweep.

There are little notes to myself and sometimes I switch the order of things around. Also, "Torus" was written from scratch (no outline) since I came up with ideas for it later, and the nice thing is that I felt comfortable doing that without feeling like I'll write myself into a corner or wreck the pacing.

Having a story outline and all these separate docs means I already know where the story is going and I can jump in and write from anywhere in the timeline when the mood strikes. I think having a lot of options on what to write is the best way to fight writer's block, so this system works well for me.

Origin was drafted in 2016 and Knots in 2017. I create new scenes all the time (and scrap others), but a lot of the early story beats are still the same.

That about covers what I do in my outline process :) Thanks for asking and hopefully this was a fun and interesting read!