#so i've decided it's worth the risk but i want to say my piece in person

[veshialles]

okay i will send that message tonight, she said while visibly shaking like a wet chihuahua

[blessedarethebinarybreakers]

This post used to hold a poem inspired by the Rev. Munther Isaac's declaration that "God is under the rubble in Gaza."

After a few anons and a conversation with a Jewish friend, I've decided to take the poem down because, regardless of my own intentions with it, it risks feeding the long and extremely harmful history of blood libel, because I included imagery of the infant Jesus and his parents being killed by an Israeli soldier, as many Palestinians are being killed now.

Before talking with that friend, I wrote in this response to an anon about my intentions with the poem — but while I do believe that intentions do matter, they don't matter nearly as much as impact does.

My friend helped me come to the conclusion that while the poem I wrote could be interpreted as I intended by people who already have all the context I wrote it in (see below), it could also all too easily be interpreted much more harmfully by those who lack that context — or worse, who are looking for more fuel for their antisemitism. The poem is not worth that risk, not at all.

___

Ultimately, I hold two things I believe to be true in tension:

that Christians throughout the ages have found deep comfort and encouragement in understanding Jesus as suffering in and with them. I support all Christian Palestinians who, like Rev. Isaac, experience God-with-them in this way — in this horrific time, they deserve any ounce of comfort they can derive. And them personally seeking and finding the Divine presence with them is not antisemitic.

that for Christians like myself in the USA, who live in the beating heart of Empire and Christian Supremacy, it is vital to take care in how we talk about this theology in this current situation, where the oppressors are Jewish. Providing more fuel for Christian antisemitism is inexcusable, and I deeply apologize for writing and sharing a piece that can be used in that way.

Because modern-day Israel is a Jewish state, exploring that Divine solidarity in this context comes with a great risk of perpetuating the long, harmful history of antisemitic blood libel and accusations of deicide. How do we affirm God’s presence with those suffering in Palestine without (implicitly or explicitly) adding to the poisonous lie that “the Jews killed Jesus”?

In wrestling with this complexity, I tried to write this poem to uplift both Jesus’s Jewishness and his solidarity with Palestinians. Jesus was born into a Jewish family, his entire worldview was shaped by his Jewishness, and he shared in his people’s suffering under the Roman Empire. His solidarity with Palestinians of various faiths suffering today does not erase that Jewishness. Nor does it mean that Jewish persons don’t “belong” in the region — only that modern Israel’s occupation of Palestine is in no way necessary for Jews to live and thrive there, or anywhere else in the world.

I also aimed to point out that Israel is by no means acting alone in this attack on Gaza or their decades-long occupation of Palestine. There is a much larger Empire at work, with my own country, the United States, at the helm. Israel is entangled in that imperial mess, and directly backed and funded by those forces — not because of what politicians claim, that we have to back Israel or else we’re antisemitic, but because Israel is our strategic foothold in the so-called Middle East. How do we name our complicity as our tax dollars are funneled into violence across the world, and act to end that violence?

___

I'm sorry this post isn't as articulate as I want it to be. All of this to say: I deeply apologize for any hurt my poem caused. I understand how horrific Christianity's history of — and ongoing present — antisemitism is, and how it poisons and warps so much that could have been beautiful. I'll keep educating myself; I'll keep having hard conversations; I'll keep working to uproot antisemitism in myself and my communities.

___

I'll close with a list of resources for learning about Palestine's history and getting involved.

[mcflymemes]

DRAMATIC & PROTECTIVE RELATIONSHIP PROMPTS *  for the ones who want to keep you safe from harm

get behind me.

go inside and lock the door and don't come out until i say so.

are you all right? where are you hurt?

over my dead body.

i promised them i'd keep you safe.

i sleep better when you're next to me.

are you serious? i'm not letting you risk your life.

don't go. it's safer here.

i should have been here. this is my fault.

here. take this gun. don't pull the trigger unless it's absolutely necessary.

they told me to watch you.

i won't let anyone lay a hand on you.

stay close to me.

i'm not worth saving. please.

can you stay? just for a little while? it would help.

it's too dangerous out there.

i thought i'd lost you.

can you hear me? hello? where are you?

they're all afraid of me.

they told me you'd be trouble. clearly that was an understatement.

one of us has to make it out of here.

is that a bruise?

get back. get back right now.

did they touch you?

i already lost you once. i'm not going to lose you again.

a few more steps. we're nearly there. i've got you.

where does it hurt? let me see.

oh my god, you're covered in blood.

i love you, but you have to go.

climb on my back. i'll carry you.

i wish you'd stay.

i slept here all night. i couldn't leave you.

stay with me. i can keep you safe.

no. i've made my decision. you're staying here.

holy shit. are you okay? what the hell happened?

we have to get inside right now.

quick! hide! in here!

if they know you're with me, they'll leave you alone.

if they attack again, we'll be ready.

this never should have happened.

i want you to run, okay? run and don't look back.

you're all right. you're safe. it's over.

i'll feel better once you're out of this.

i don't have nightmares when you're here.

where have you been? i've been calling you all night.

your phone went straight to voicemail. what's going on?

i don't want anything to happen to you.

i can't stand the thought of losing you.

i won't let them touch you.

when we met, i promised myself i'd keep you safe.

where'd they go? i'll give them a piece of my mind.

here. squeeze my hand if it hurts.

i'll lay beside you.

no. it's non-negotiable. you're staying here.

i don't want you to die, okay?

listen to me! i know what i'm doing!

i can't lose you again!

do you hear me? i love you! i've always loved you.

i've got you. i'm right here.

can i stay? i'll take the couch.

tell them you're with me.

you can make it. i believe in you.

are you kidding me? who decided this?

here, i'll pick you up.

get back in the car. i'll handle this.

if anyone can do it, it's you.

let me carry you to safety.

i don't do well when you're away.

[froggiewrites]

i love your writing so much and im so glad you opened requests!! :) i would love if you wrote a fic about zoro being dominant (maybe some spanking/spitting?) him having a dirty mouth, and perhaps some edging? i have another idea that i'll send in a diff message too! even if you dont choose this one i look forward to reading the others <3

I've never written anything with a lot of dirty talk or dominance before, but I tried my best, and I hope I did it justice! 😊

Playing Rough

Pairing: Zoro x Reader

NSFW

Summary: You're being terribly stubborn, insisting on fighting battles you can't handle. Zoro decides to put you in your place. Warnings: Smut, Dom Zoro, Spanking, Dirty Talk, Slight Edging, Begging Word Count: 2.4k

It was a stupid argument, one that shouldn’t have happened.

The battle you had been through was rough, sure, but you didn’t take any damage that wouldn’t heal. Zoro had insisted you not fight on your own, not take on any challenge you couldn’t handle, and you had insisted that you were more than capable of handling it. And you were. You came home, didn’t you? And the bruises might be nasty and the stitches weren’t terribly fun either, but you were in one piece. You had managed to hobble your way back to the ship on your own, and you didn’t even collapse before making it into Zoro’s arms.

You were too out of it to comprehend the words he said, though you understood the panic and fear in his tone well enough. And you certainly understood the words he spoke when you first woke up.

“Are you stupid?”

“Excuse me?”

Before you could truly get angry, his arms were around you, crushing you against his chest. You can feel a slight tremor as he takes a deep breath, nose buried in your hair, taking in your scent, your warmth, any evidence that you are here with him and alive. He takes a shuddering inhale, the closest thing to weakness you’ve ever heard from him, before his voice comes back again, rough and absolutely furious. “You almost died.”

“I didn’t almost die.” You try to say it sweetly, soothingly, but his fingers tighten in a way that is less than kind.

“You almost died. You went even though you knew you shouldn’t, and you almost died. I almost lost you.” His voice isn’t shaking, not quite, but you swear you feel the tremor anyway. Zoro is not a man easily rattled, yet somehow you have shaken him to his very foundation.

“You could never lose me, Zoro. I knew what I was doing, I promise.”

“You knew the risk you were taking?”

“Yes. But I had to do it.” You bring a hand up to run through his hair. “I knew I would come back. I knew what I was doing, and I knew I was strong enough. I promise.”

You’re suddenly devoid of his warmth as he pulls away, glaring at you. “You have no idea what you’re talking about. Chopper said if you got back even a few minutes later…” He trails off, clenching his teeth.

“But I didn’t,” you insist. “Everything turned out fine, Zoro.”

“Do you think that’s all that matters?”

“Kind of!”

He huffs. “I’m glad you’re okay.” He stalks out of the room, slamming the door as he leaves. You throw yourself back onto the bed, wincing as you realize your ribs are very much broken. Every inch of you is bruised, and it hurts to breathe. But it was worth it. He would understand that eventually. Not every fight has a pretty ending, but that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t finish them.

He did not understand, as it turns out.

He still helped you as you healed, your dear protector always carrying you so gently, so purposefully. But you could feel the distance, the tension. Neither of you acknowledged it, focusing on your health first and foremost, but it haunted every moment you two were together. Touches were fleeting, conversation was sparse. But finally, finally, today you have been officially given a clean bill of health by Chopper.

“You’re cleared for everyday activity, but I still want you to stay out of fights for a while. And don’t do anything that reckless again!” Chopper’s words are law when it comes to your health, so you’ll do your best, but you can’t help but think of how no one else on this ship would follow such instructions.

“I’ll try.” No promises you can’t keep, and Chopper purses his lips a little when he realizes, but after a moment he simply nods. He’s used to patients even more stubborn than you, of course.

As you leave the office, ready to get back to your regular life, you’re instantly met by Zoro’s broad chest as he pulls you into him.

“You’re fine now?” There’s a tension to his voice you don’t fully understand.

“I–yeah? I guess?”

“Good.” He throws you over his shoulder, not exactly gently, now that he knows being rough with you won’t open your stitches.

“What are you doing?” You try to pull yourself up to see where he’s taking you, but he gives you a quick swat on the ass that makes you squeak as you fall limp again.

“You’ll see.” He jogs down a hallway you only recognize right before you reach your destination: his room. When the door slams shut behind you, enclosing you in darkness, it almost sounds like a death knell.

He throws you onto the bed carelessly, pushing a hand onto your stomach to keep you from bouncing. His other hand makes quick work of your pants as you squirm, not out of fear but out of pure confusion.

“Zoro? What’s going on?”

“We have a conversation to finish.” His voice is flat. You don’t need to ask him which conversation. You know damn well which one. He’s finally rid you of your pants, throwing them carelessly to the floor, and he begins to work on the buttons of your shirt.

“Is that what this is going to be? A conversation?”

He hums. “No, I guess not.” His callused hands are rough against your bare skin as he unhooks your bra and grabs your breasts. “You aren’t going to be doing much talking, today. It’s finally time for you to listen.” He kneads your chest for a moment, pinching harshly, before he moves to slide off your panties.

“Listen?” Your voice is a little strained as you feel his fingers slide against your bare skin for the first time in weeks.

“Yeah, listen. You weren’t willing before, so I have to try something else.” He flips you over before pulling you onto his lap, ass in the air. “Make you remember our roles here.”

“Our roles?”

“Yeah. I’m the protector of the ship, of our crew. That’s my job.”

“Oh? And what’s mine?”

“In general? To survive. Right now? To take what I give you.”

“And what are you giving me?”

“Do you think you’re in a position to interrogate me right now?” His hand grabs one of your ass cheeks, an attempt to remind you exactly who’s in charge. And you know, of course, who’s in charge here. But that doesn’t mean you can’t push him.

“You’ve been answering, haven’t you?” You can’t keep the mischief out of your voice.

He chuckles in spite of himself. “Yeah, I have. I’m being too nice, aren’t I?” His voice gets a little deeper, an intensity creeping in. “I’ll give you one more, as a treat. I’m giving you exactly what you’ve earned, for acting so fucking recklessly. And then, if you’re good? I’ll give you my cock. I’m sure you want it, hm? All cooped up in the infirmary for weeks, thinking about it, knowing you can’t have it. I bet it’s been driving you insane.”

With that, you feel the sharp sting of his hand as he brings it down. It makes you cry out as it connects with your soft flesh, but you know he isn’t using even half of his strength, holding back, somehow taking care of you even now. You feel him harden when he does it, though you can’t tell if it’s from the sound you make or from the action itself. Maybe both. His hand gently caresses the growing handprint, a moment of tenderness, before he raises his hand again and you tense.

“Just relax, sweetheart. It can’t be any worse than what you put us through.” Another smack, this one on the other cheek, and another, and another, alternating each time. You can’t help the small squeaks and whines you let out, and Zoro can’t hide the effect they have on him, breathing growing heavier and smacks becoming more intense as you both lose yourselves.

“That’s it. One more. You can take one more.”

“Ah!”

“That’s right. Another. You’re enjoying this, aren’t you? You’re practically dripping.” You clench your thighs together, trying to hide the fact that he’s right, about this, about the fight, about everything here. When you try, he tuts, bringing his hand down yet again, making you jolt. “Don’t go hiding yourself from me, pretty thing. You’re mine, every inch of you. You can’t hide a thing from me. Can you say it for me, sweet thing? Admit that you’re mine?”

“I’m yours, Zoro!”

“And that I was right?”

“You were—ah!” His hand comes down again, but you force your way through. “You were right, Zoro!”

“There we go.” His hands finally stop, coming to rest on your red and stinging ass. “Was that so hard to admit?”

You keep silent, your stubbornness still carrying you through.

He laughs at you. “You know, I could add a bit to your punishment for not answering. But,” his fingers find your entrance, wet and waiting, “I think you’d probably like that, huh?”

You hum, pushing your face into the bed, trying to hide your red face and ears. He lifts you up, pulling you up into a sitting position, holding your chin and forcing you to look him in the eyes. “Hiding again? You really liked your punishment, didn’t you? As much as I’d love to continue, that’s not all I had in store. So eyes on me.”

He quickly strips off his shirt before easily lifting you with one arm so he can slide off his pants. As he does, you can see a wet spot where you were resting. It’s a little mortifying, realizing how easily he can turn you to putty in his hands, literally dripping wet for him. Your embarrassment quickly subsides when he frees his cock, red and twitching, and you realize you hold just as much sway over him as he does over you. He lines himself up with your entrance, ready to give you exactly what you want.

As he slowly slides you down on his cock, you let out a moan, and he groans in response. His eyes are locked onto where your bodies meet, taking in the sight of you stretching around him. “Fuck, you take me so perfectly. Like you were made for me.”

Once he’s fully sheathed in you, you both take a moment to breathe in, enjoying the feeling of this first sweet stretch. The second you breathe out, he begins to bounce you roughly, making you squeak. “Oh, you thought I was going to go easy on you now?” He laughs, continuing his fast pace, fingertips digging into your hips. “Fuck, you feel so good, pretty thing. Bouncing on my cock just like that.”

One hand leaves your hips, moving up your body, finding its place at your chest. He pinches your nipples, making you squeal, before he leans forward, breathing heavily in your ear. “God, when you squeeze around me like that…” he squeezes your chest again, moaning. “You kill me, sweetheart.”

His hips continue to snap harshly into yours, pounding relentlessly as the sounds of slapping skin fill the room. His lips latch onto your neck, sucking and leaving a mark that clearly defines you as his. You can feel the heat rising as your orgasm builds, your sounds growing more wanton and desperate as Zoro begins to pound into you even faster, and faster.

And then it stops.

“Wha–”

You can feel the rumble of his chest against your back as he laughs. “Oh, did you think I was going to just give it to you?”

“I–But–I was good,” you say petulantly. Your voice is still a half whine as you try to ground yourself, the tension in your body slowly unraveling and leaving nothing but a cold dissatisfaction.

“Hm.” He presses his cheek to your shoulder, humming as though he’s thinking. “Well. Maybe if you beg you can cum on my cock. If you’re real sweet about it.”

It’s embarrassing how quickly the frantic cry leaves your mouth. “Please, please, please Zoro can I cum? Please?”

“Hm. I think you can do better.”

“Please, can I cum on your cock, Zoro! Please, I need you, please!”

“Alright. Since you asked so nicely.”

His fingers find your clit, rubbing circles around it. He enters you again, pace slower this time, but strokes deep and deliberate. You can feel every inch of him as he pulls in and out, feel the heat of his breath on your ear, hear his quiet moans as you clench around him. He will give you your release, but not as quickly as you want it. You’ll get it on his terms.

Even still, you reach your precipice quickly, and he whispers huskily in your ear. “Are you ready?”

You’re beyond all practical thought at this point, but you still manage two simple words. “Yes! Please.”

“Alright then, pretty thing. Cum for me.” With one final thrust, one final movement of his fingers, you do, gushing around him as the world shatters. You’re panting, desperate for breath, but you can’t seem to make your lungs listen to you over the symphony of pleasure you’re drowning in. Right as you manage to regain some control of yourself, you can feel Zoro go tense beneath you before you feel him spill inside of you, filling you to the brim as he quietly moans out your name. 

You both sit together a moment, you limp in Zoro’s arms as he falls back onto the bed, before he speaks up.

“Promise me you’ll never do anything like that again. Really.” His arms wrap around you a little tighter. “I…I couldn’t stand the thought of losing you.”

“I won’t do it again, Zoro, I promise.” Your voice is weak, but you look up to see a sincere smile creep onto his face and you know he heard you. “...Are there other things that might get me punished like this? Less deadly things?”

He laughs. “Oh, there are plenty. And I’m sure you’ll do them all.” His hand runs through your hair affectionately. “But I’ll find more excuses to spank you later. I think you need some rest.”

With that, you two simply lay together, the only sound in the room your quiet breaths and the sound of Zoro’s heartbeat, growing slower and slower as you both drift off.

[joequiinn]

PREVIEW | You Can Have My Hate | B.H. x reader

summary: Unfortunately, you got stuck with Billy fucking Hargrove as your partner for your final assignment in history class. Also unfortunately, Billy discovers you have a killer body underneath all those baggy clothes…

a/n: Billy is a disgusting little man and i love him dearly. as the title says, this is a preview of something i've been working on! the fic is already at 6.5k words and still isn't done, so i decided to put out a little snippet to see if there was any interest, so please let me know if you'd like me to finish the fic!

notes & tropes: fem reader, curvy + large chest reader, foul and suggestive language, canon typical Billy bullshit, awful behavior from both Billy and reader, minor allusions to sex but nothing happens (yet)

music inspo: Closer by Nine Inch Nails

preview wc: 1.9k

You let me violate you | You let me desecrate you You let me penetrate you | You let me complicate you

“Damn, little miss straight-laced,” Billy’s hooded eyes slowly crawled down your body, the corner of his mouthing pulled back in a lecherous smirk, “is that what you’ve been hiding under all those baggy clothes?”

God, you hated Billy Hargrove. Absolutely despised him with every fiber of your being. You knew you should’ve begged your history teacher for a different partner, should’ve gotten on your knees and pleaded for literally anyone other than Billy fucking Hargrove to work on this assignment with you. An idiotic football player or a bitchy cheerleader would’ve been better than this. But no, you didn’t beg and you didn’t plead, so now you were stuck, and god if this wasn’t about to be the worst couple weeks of your life.

Ever since Billy showed up in Hawkins at the beginning of last semester, you detested him. Everything about him screamed disrespectful, hateful asshole, and so having two classes with him meant you had witnessed your fair share of this behavior. Why so many girls wanted to fuck him and why so many boys aspired to be him was a mystery to you, because you could see from the start that he was a no good piece of shit.

But, in a way, you were lucky because you were literally a nobody. And nobodies went unnoticed, which meant not having to deal with bullshit from 90% of your peers. Hell, when your history teacher was pairing everyone off and told Billy who his partner would be, his response was an amused “who?” as if he didn’t believe this person - you - even existed. He had gone the entirety of the school year not having a single clue that you existed, and damn you wish it had just gone on a little longer. You literally had one more month left of senior year, one more month until you never even had to think about Hawkins High again, and the last thing you wanted was to spend half of that month in misery while trying to put up with Billy fucking Hargrove.

This assignment shouldn’t have even been worth shit to you, considering that your grade was nearly perfect and it was your last big project before graduation, but that’s where your history teacher hooked all of you - if this assignment wasn’t completed, then you guys wouldn’t be able to receive your diplomas. Or so he said to deter kids like you from flaking on it - you didn’t know if your boring old history teacher had that kind of authority, but you weren’t about to risk finding out.

And for kids like Billy? Kids who didn’t give a shit, who were already struggling to pass? The grade on this assignment was make or break. Not that it affected you any, of course - Billy could fail his senior year for all you cared. But shockingly enough, he was the one to make a point of its importance to you, the one to emphasize that he had to pass this class and graduate. It was curious to you, since you’d never once seen Billy care about school, but perhaps he was also beginning to feel the fire under his ass to leave Hawkins.

So, for the past week now, you’d been meeting with Billy at the school library, trying your best not to rip out your hair while you did the majority of the work. Hell, you could’ve told Billy just to fuck off and let you work on your own - you’d still let him put his name on the assignment and everything. But for whatever reason, you didn’t and so now you were subjecting yourself to tolerating his bullshit.

And that’s what you were doing right now, sitting across from Billy in the library and using every fiber of your being not to lose it on him. He had been particularly difficult from the moment he sat down, his foot bouncing impatiently and his expression condescending each time you tried to talk to him. He was making it very clear that he’d rather be anywhere other than here. The warm temperature of the library combined with your frustration at Billy was causing you to feel a little toasty, so you caved and tugged your large sweater over your head, leaving you in a tight, black tank top that left little to the imagination.

And said tight, black tank top is exactly what Billy was ogling, making you sneer and immediately regret taking off your sweater.

You never liked showing off your body, never liked the attention it drew you. You wouldn’t say you were self-conscious necessarily, you didn’t hate the way you looked in the mirror or anything like that. But you were very aware of how men looked at women’s bodies, and as someone who hated most forms of attention, you weren’t going to have any of that. So you wore baggy jeans and oversized sweaters, hid your frame under clothes that were always a size or so too big. It kept eyes and hands off of you, and you preferred it that way.

But damn it, it was so hot in the library that afternoon and you weren’t thinking clearly. You couldn’t believe your own stupidity - you just had to take off your sweater in front of Billy fucking Hargrove, a boy who only ever saw women as either sex pots or prudes. His lewd gaze was making you feel even more hot under the collar, but shit did you want to put your sweater back on already despite the heat.

“Will you please focus, Hargrove?” You begged in an exacerbated tone, trying to cross your arms over your chest in a way that wasn’t obvious while looking back down to the textbook open in front of you.

“You expect me to focus now, after you whipped those out?” Billy took such obvious joy in knowing that he was making you uncomfortable. He leaned forward on the table, his eyes once again traveling a salacious path down the curves of your body, “It’s Friday night, I got a pair of double D’s sitting across from me, and you’re asking me to focus on a damn essay?”

“Shut up.” You threatened between your teeth, trying not to raise your voice and draw attention. Your eyes were dark with frustration as you stared at Billy, who simply looked back at you like he didn’t give a damn, like he was just waiting for you to cave to him.

And how the hell could he tell you wore a double D?

You sank in your seat a little while attempting to cross your arms even more aggressively in front of your chest, feeling your cheeks growing red. Billy gave you that smooth, lazy grin that you’ve seen him use before, his eyes hooded as he leaned back in his chair. The feeling of his indecent gaze on your body practically made your skin crawl.

“Fine, Hargrove,” You quickly grab up your belongings and shoot to your feet, fumbling with your bag and sweater to make sure they kept your chest covered, “if you wanna be a prick who won’t focus, we’ll do this next week.”

You started to march out of the library, to retreat to safety. You didn’t like the way Billy was looking at you - it was objectifying and disrespectful and vulgar. Billy never once gave a fuck about - or even noticed - you before, but the second you remove a stupid barrier of clothing, suddenly he’s oh so interested. He was such a pig.

But shit, why was it also… kind of hot?

No, it was not hot.

You couldn’t let yourself even entertain that thought because there sure as shit wasn’t anything hot about it. It wasn’t hot that he objectified you, it wasn’t hot that he drank your body in with impropriety, it wasn’t hot that his tongue ran slowly along his lower lip as his eyes met yours with practiced allure.

No, no, no! You could’ve kicked yourself. Nothing about that should’ve been hot, god damn it.

“Oh, come on, killjoy,” Billy grabbed your wrist, spinning you back around to face him, having followed you through the library. His grip was firm as you looked between his face and hand and back again.

The library wasn’t exactly busy on a Friday afternoon, but you looked around to find that the librarian and another student both looked in your direction. It made you even more nervous to know that eyes were on you; what if you got in trouble, what if the librarian reprimands you both for being disruptive? You looked back to Billy, your brows furrowed in annoyance as you whipped your wrist out of his hold with hostility.

“I’m serious, if all you want is to slack off and look at my tits that’s your business.” You immediately clamped your mouth shut, your eyes widening slightly - that is not what you meant to say at all. Oh god, why the fuck did you say that? Shit, you should’ve just told him that you’d regroup next week, that you weren’t going to put up with him. But no, instead you said arguably the stupidest thing you could, and it was clear on Billy’s face that he was relishing in your stupid words, enjoying them even.

He looked back down at your body, luckily hidden behind your bag and sweater, “My business, huh? Sounds to me like permission to stare.”

“No.” You answered firmly; your cheeks and neck felt so fucking warm. You tried to get back on track, tried to shake off the stupid thing you said just a moment ago, “I just want to finish this project. So, go home and jack off to your Playboys all weekend, and then maybe we can actually get some work done next week.”

Despite your jabs, Billy still grinned wickedly, dipping his head a little as he took a step closer, his voice low, “So, that’s what you’re thinking about, huh? Me jacking off? You enjoying that thought?”

Your mouth opened and closed as you tried to find some quick response to that, but you couldn’t think of a damn thing to say. A sound of disbelief left your throat as you gaped with loathing at Billy for a moment. God, you felt like a damn fish trying to breathe out of water. With a glare in your eyes, you clamped your mouth shut, which seemed to be a great amusement to Billy, whose smile widened as a laugh escaped him.

“God, you make it so easy.” He said, shaking his head, “You gotta lighten up, you know?”

You sigh loudly, eyes still staring at him harshly, “Whatever, Hargrove.”

You attempt to walk away once more, but yet again Billy snatches your wrist, “Wait, wait, wait…”

“Stop acting interested in me all of a sudden,” You try to shake your arm out of his hold again, but this time Billy’s grip is tighter, “I’m not in the mood.”

“Look,” his tone was firm as he instructed, “let’s go back over to the table, get some more work done, and I’ll give you a ride home.”

Your eyes narrowed into slits as you studied his face, “I don’t need a ride.”

“You don’t have a car.” He countered immediately.

“I don’t need a ride from you.”

“You don’t, but isn’t it generous that I’m offering?”

“More like devious.”

“I’ll be a total gentleman.”

You laughed right in his face, “You don’t even know the meaning of the word.”

[epicbuddieficrecs]

Weekly Recap | August 26th-September 8th 2024

HAPPY 9-1-1 SEASON 8 PREMIERE MONTH EVERYONE!!

Couldn't post last Monday because of the Ao3 being down, and then I was pretty busy all week preparing for a con I went to this weekend! So you get two weeks worth of fics! And since I've made you wait, I'm posting on Sunday instead of Monday!

Complete

🔥be sweet to me baby by sibylsleaves/ @sibylsleaves (S7E4: Buck Bothered and Bewildered, PWP | 2K | Explicit): “You’re not replaceable,” Eddie says. “I—I know,” Buck stutters. “Do you?” Eddie asks. “Buck,” he says, low and urgent. His hand curls around Buck’s hip. “Tell me how I can prove it to you.” “I—” Buck chokes out. The silence pulls taut between them. All he wanted, all week, was Eddie’s attention. He has it, now. And he won’t survive it. “Like this?” Eddie asks, and then the hand on Buck’s hip moves, and he’s unzipping Buck’s jeans, and—oh, god. - after the pick-up game, Eddie clears some things up.

let me be your last first kiss by justhockey (Post-S7, Getting Together | 3K | Mature): He can feel his cheeks catching fire as Buck looks up at him with those maddening fucking eyes and impossibly kissable lips. He’s pouting, his bottom lip sticking out slightly in a way that makes Eddie want to lean down and suck it into his mouth - nibble at it until it’s red, and swollen, and tender. Until it’s his. He looks away. He has to. Otherwise he’ll do something stupid - do something reckless. And he’ll put his life on the line for Buck any day of the week, but he won’t risk his heart. He can’t. He wouldn’t survive the breaking.

no others, before thee by Maira/ @carrierofthepaperclips (God!Buck, Established Buddie | 3K | Teen): Eddie wakes up tied to a chair and with blood in his mouth. The funny thing? His captors don't even realise they've made two very, very big mistakes, only one of which is kidnapping him. Because they didn't kidnap a god. They kidnapped a god's husband.

let the bough break, let it come down crashing by Maira/ @carrierofthepaperclips (Soulmates AU, Post-S7 | 3K | General): Every person is gifted a soulmate by the universe, the one person who bears a matching Mark to their own - their Fated. There's no guarantee that they will meet this person, but if they are lucky enough to do so, they definitely don't go against the choice the universe has made. Unless you're Evan Buckley, and you decide that instead of a staying happily ever after with a perfectly lovely soulmate, you'd actually prefer to be with the one person who makes your life worth living.

stars in the sky, kisses on your lips by Tizniz/ @tizniz (Getting Together | 3K | General): A night out in the desert. Stars in the sky. And risks to take. Sounds like the perfect opportunity.

Went a Little Like This by thedesertpenguin/ @thedesertpenguin (Post-S7, Accidental Kissing | 3K | Teen): Buck kisses Eddie on a random morning. Two problems with this: 1) They are not together 2) They don't realize they've kissed

pining and anticipation (I don't want you like a best friend) by heartbeatdiaz/ @loserdiaz (Getting Together | 3K | Teen): Buck inadvertently challenges Eddie to try to hit on him by laughing at the fact that the guy has no game. It ends up being the best thing ever.

my wildest of dreams takin' on a new life by heartbeatdiaz/ @loserdiaz (Roommates, PWP | 3K | Explicit): Buck is a little freak that can't stop listening to Eddie touching himself.

Three Strikes and You're Out by eightpackdiaz (Post-S7, Infidelity | 3K | Teen): Buck's soon-to-be-ex-boyfriend chooses to ignore him every time the kiss cam points in their direction. Eddie does the opposite

Red As Strawberries in Summertime by fruitsdoesnotknow/ @tayf-ghost (Post-S7, Getting Together | 4K | Teen): There's a list of groceries written down on a piece of paper, and Buck can't help if he wants to add "kiss Eddie" to it over and over and over again.

will you remember me? by bucksclipboard/ @excuseme-greentea (Amnesia, Getting Together | 4K | Teen): You know the trope: Someone suffers from amnesia and they don’t remember their partner. Well, this is the opposite. Buck doesn’t remember a thing – except that he loves Eddie. How is Eddie supposed to tell him they’re not actually together?

Crazy For You by Inell/ @inell (Post-S7, Getting Together | 4K | Teen): While hanging out watching a baseball game & drinking beer, Eddie shares his honest opinions regarding Buck’s relationship. Four days later, he confronts Buck to find out why he’s been avoiding him since then.

I can fix that by 42hrb/ @exhuastedpigeon (Post-S7, Getting Together | 4K | Mature): “What - what is that?” “What’s what?” Eddie asked, but the smile tugging at his mouth, the smile that was just slightly obscured by the hottest mustache Buck had ever fucking seen, told Buck Eddie knew exactly what he was talking about.

Eddie Diaz: Gay Disaster by eightpackdiaz (Post-S7, Getting Together | 4K | Teen): Eddie's worried he might be homophobic, but it turns out he's just in love with his best friend.

on my way to believing by rainbow_nerds/ @rainbow-nerdss (Post-S7, First Date | 5K | Teen): Buck stood there in the doorway and told Eddie everything. How he felt, how he’d been waiting until the time was right, how he didn’t expect Eddie to feel the same but he just had to put it out there, couldn’t keep this a secret between them. And Eddie might have been surprised at first, but he felt the same. He feels the same. And today, finally, after so long, they’re going on a date. Their first date. His last first date, if Buck has any say in the matter.

And They Were Roommates by eightpackdiaz (Post-S7, Getting Together | 5K | Teen): Thanks to the destruction of hotel property and the help of their closest friends and family (and exasperated now-exes), Buck and Eddie finally figure some things out.

whatever you like by clytemnestra/ @clytemnestraaa (Established Buddie, Miscommunication | 6K | Mature): “Is something wrong?” Eddie says. “No! It’s all good. Really, really good." Buck says. "Just, I want it to be good for you too. Like, is this actually what you want, or is this what you think I want?” Eddie frowns. “Is this not what you want?” He says. - Buck and Eddie (not) talking about it.

And You Are Where I Wanna Be by fruitsdoesnotknow/ @tayf-ghost (First Date | 6K | Teen): Buck and Eddie find out their first date is slightly more awkward than they thought it would be. Good thing they're both desperately and hopelessly in love with each other.

No One Loves Me Like You by JJK/ @trenchcoatsandtimetravel (S5E18, Love Confessions, Unrequited Love | 7K | Teen): After Hen and Karen's vow renewal, Eddie battles his repression to confess his feelings for Buck. Blindsided, Buck doesn't think he loves Eddie that way and turns him down. They both spiral and things get awkward. Will Buck figure out his feelings before it's too late?

Buck Has a Boyfriend (He Swears) by thedesertpenguin/ @thedesertpenguin (Post-S7, Eddie Coming Out | 7K | Teen): Eddie's fighting again, it's the only explanation. Aka: Eddie’s being secretive and Buck desperately tries to remember he has a boyfriend

you can feel it on the way home by lizzybizzyzzz/ (Crack, Animal Transformation | 7K | Teen): or, after eddie comes in contact with a bundle of magic catnip inside a problematic botánica, he finds himself in the care of his team; can the magic be reversed or will he become firestation 118's new furry mascot? (Part 1 of you are in love)

you can see it with the lights out by lizzybizzyzzz / (Crack, Animal Transformation | 1,7K | General): Buck narrows his eyes at him suspiciously. “Did you smell that stuff on purpose so you wouldn’t be on dish-duty?” Through his second last nectarine slice, Eddie hisses at him. or, eddie is turned into a cat and buck doesn't really know what to do with him, a coda (Part 2 of you are in love)

Sealed With a Kiss by Inell/ @inell (Soulmate AU, Different First Meeting, S1 | 8K | Teen): When Buck goes to the beach to get away from Abby’s empty apartment, he ends up saving a kid from drowning. He isn’t expecting to meet Christopher’s father, Eddie, who also happens to be Buck’s soulmate. 

like a river that doesn't know where it's flowing (i found where i'm going) by oklahoma/ @sunshinediaz (Post-S7, Eddie Coming Out | 10K | Teen): After coming out as gay, finally, Eddie has a well-deserved hot girl summer witnessed by his closest friends and family. Everyone is supportive and encouraging, except for Buck. What could that possibly mean? 

she’ll never get to eat you like your heart's a pomegranate by colonoscopys/ @colonoscopys (Fluff | 10K | General): or, Five Times Buck was the Weird Parent, and One Time Eddie was

Weary Memory by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Buck&Bobby, Post-S7 | 12K | Teen): After an argument about the circumstances of Bobby's sudden retirement, Buck and Bobby each find themselves inexplicably experiencing one of the other's difficult childhood memories.

🔥the tortured poets department by colonoscopys/ @colonoscopys (Post-S4E14: Survivors, Magic AU | 19K | Explicit): The first time Buck touched him, Eddie blew an ambulance up.

🔥Where there's smoke by rainbow_nerds/ @rainbow-nerdss (Multiverses | 37K | Teen): His eyelids are heavy. His lungs ache. The smoke is dense and thick, slowly suffocating him. Eddie feels himself drift as Buck’s voice penetrates the smoke, cuts through the fog in his brain. “Eddie, stay with me. Stay with me, Eds.” Eddie wants to stay. He wants to open his eyes and see Buck. He doesn’t want to leave. But he’s so tired, and sleep is calling him. Maybe it will be okay. Maybe his dreams will be sweet. Maybe there’ll be peace, there. And maybe, if he just rests for a little while, he’ll be able to find his way back.

🔥 Long Death by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Post-S7, Vampire AU | 79K | Explicit): In the summer of 2024, a never before seen form of vampirism breaks out in Los Angeles. Just as Eddie is about to get his son back. Six months later, Buck's life is permanently changed.

WIP

🔥 the wayward son by brewrosemilk/ @gayhoediaz (Post-S7 Spec, Sex Club | 3/5 | 33K | Explicit): Eddie misses his son, grows a mustache, pines after his best friend, and becomes a regular at a gay sex club. That last part is either an indulgence or an inevitable, somewhat self-destructive conclusion to several decades worth of compulsory heterosexuality and catholic guilt. Don’t ask him which.

Gentle On My Mind by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Canon Divergent, Shannon Lives, Buck/Eddie/Shannon | 2/? | 13K | Explicit): In which Shannon lives, tells a lie, and sends hers, Eddie's, and Buck's lives down a very different path.

🔥 Any Other Way by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Canon Divergent, S2 | 18/21 | 92K | Mature): In a switcheroo alternate universe, Buck spends young adulthood in the military, while Eddie, who has no idea Christopher exists, spends his twenties messing around, finally enjoying freedom away from his family’s expectations. When they both end up in Los Angeles, at the 118, some things are different, and others will be the same in any universe.

🔥 Things We're All Too Young to Know by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Canon S1-S6, Divergent Post-S6 | 135/? | 430K | Mature): This is a love story. Even if it doesn’t always look like it. Even if it doesn’t always feel like it. A look back on Eddie and Buck's lives up to now, and what led them to each other, interpreted from the current 9-1-1 canon.

🔥 go and kill, go and die by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Zombie Apocalypse AU | 6/14 | 26K | Mature): The 118 are a group of survivors in a small California town in the wake of a zombie apocalypse. For months they've been isolated and safe. But the arrival of some new players, the search for some missing loved ones, will shake everything up and put their little team in jeopardy.

Re-Read

one single thread of gold (tied me to you) by heartbeatdiaz/ @loserdiaz (Canon Divergent, Teacher Buck | 4K | Teen): Eddie met Evan when he was a bartender in Peru and Eddie was on vacation with his cousins. They had a one night stand and Eddie woke up the next morning to an empty bed and a disappointed heart. Just for the same guy to end up being Chris' teacher years after.

🔥 situations, circumstances, miscommunications ( i just may like some explanations ) by heartbeatdiaz / @loserdiaz (Didn't Know They Were Dating | 4K | Teen): "You didn't know?" Eddie asks, calmer but not less confused. He frowns. "How could you not know?" "You never said anything?" Buck tilts his head to the side. "We were dating?” “I guess not,” Eddie sighs. His heart is beating a little faster, an unpleasant buzz beneath his skin as he all but chokes on a feeling he can’t quite name— it could be hurt or disappointment or maybe a mix of both. In that moment, he knows three things very clearly. 1. Buck is going to be the death of him. 2. He is in love with the most dense, most oblivious man on planet Earth. 3. He is too gay and, honestly, too old for this shit.

Family Feud: First Responders by Princessfbi/ @princessfbi (Secret Relationship | 3K | General): The FireFam go on Family Feud.

[harmonyckrs]

Act 2, Scene 3 of Twisted Veronaville: The Homewrecker and the Matchmaker

THE LAST PAGE

Here lies the homewrecker of the arranged Capp marriages, now having taken the identity of a new man.

*DING. You have one new message.*

Albany: Hello.

Albany: Pascal?

Albany: I can see the green dot next to your icon. I know you're online.

Pascal: no i'm not

Albany: Please don't joke with me. I broke up with Goneril a couple of days ago. I wanted to ask if you wanted to move in, or at least visit?

Pascal: no

Albany: Please? Hal misses you. He wants to learn more about the stars, and I can't find anyone better to show him than you.

Pascal: astronomy101textbook9thedition.pdf, starmapvers42.pdf

Pascal: hope these help. let me know if he wants more. got some on aliens too

Albany: Pascal, I'm being serious. I did not break up with Goneril for you to ghost me.

Pascal: maybe you should've thought about that before dating a man who was deliberately ruining your marriage

Albany: I was willing to take the risk because I know you'd be worth it.

Albany: Please?

Albany: I'll pay you.

Albany: Goneril let me keep all of the money. She moved in with her sister. She doesn't even want the kids! She won't be a problem anymore.

Albany: I'm looking for something real now! And I know I can find it with you!

Pascal: can't say the same

Albany: I refuse to let something as beautiful as what we had be destroyed!

Pascal: got to go water my plants. goodbye

Pretending to be his brother wasn't something that Pascal was really comfortable with. But there were people relying on him, and he had chosen to sacrifice his morals long ago.

Morals were only holding him back from the one goal he was now desperately trying to achieve.

Pascal: (That woman looks so much like Zoya.)

Pascal: (I should take a photo and send it to her later, once I figure out where Aktu and Sita are like she asked.)

Pascal: (Oh, is that Albany?...why is he at H&M?...he doesn't seem to recognize me. Think I should be good...I'll just buy some extra clothes for some new disguises. I wonder if I can pass as a girl...)

Ripp: That's my friend's uncle over there! I'm going to say hi.

Pascal: (Ripp's here! That means Aktu and Sita are, too!)

Ripp: Hey Mr. Lazlo! Do you remember me?

Pascal: Yeah, man! What's up, little dude? How've you been, bro?

Pascal: (Darn it! Too forced!)

Ripp: Pretty good! Dad sold me to ninjas but they've been pretty nice so far.

Pascal: (Ninjas? I thought you'd come up with something more creative, Aktu). Damn, that's rough! Glad you're in one piece though!...my guy!

Ripp: Yeah...oh, and one of them said he knew you.

Pascal: Did he, now?...Aktu, I'm guessing?...man, it's been, like...so long. A while. Can you give me his number, bro? I think he changed it.

Ripp: Yeah, sure! No problem.

Pascal: (HA! Success!)

*RING RING*

Aktu: Greetings, mortal...What brings you to the House of the Extra Terrestrials?

Pascal: Aktu, I know it's you.

Aktu: (PASCAL? How did he find me?) Pascal? It's been so long, man! What's up?

Pascal: Hamza, Zoya and Sana are in Veronaville right now, looking for you. They're not happy with you and Sita interfering with people's fates.

Pascal: They think I'm on their side, but I've been messing with people's fates too.

Aktu: How can I trust you?

Pascal: Ask Albany or Goneril for the name of the man who ruined their marriage.

Aktu: ...Woah. Pascal! How did you even do that?

Pascal: There's a lot of sexually repressed gay people here...do we have a deal, Aktu?

Aktu: (Well, he's a reliable guy. And plus, he's never let me down before.) Sure!

Pascal: Great! Talk to you soon.

As Pascal and Aktu spoke to each other for the first time in a long while, Antonio had decided to pay his sister a visit. However, Bianca had "coincidentally" left for work, leaving him with just Kent.

Kent: Tried to make some pie myself, but I burnt it. Let me know how it is.

Antonio: It's...not too bad, actually, despite the charred taste. I didn't know you knew how to bake.

Kent: Had to do all the cooking and cleaning for Regan and Cornwall in exchange for letting me stay with them.

Antonio: Maybe we can bake together sometime...if you want to, that is. I still don't know what happened to Hero, but it would be unfair for me to take it out on everyone in your family. And I don't think it was you who did it.

Kent: Thanks, Antonio. And welcome to the dark side. Bianca and I welcome you with open arms.

Antonio: Ha, thanks...and I'm sorry about your date, too.

Kent: It's no big deal. I can just find another.

Antonio: (Yeah, but there's not that many gay people in Veronaville, is there? There's got to be some way I can make up for it...)

Aktu: A coupon for Monty's?

Aktu: "Sorry about the incident that occurred to you at our restaurant as a result of the family feud. To make up for this, we have supplied you with a coupon for two free "date night" meals at Monty's for both you and your special someone."

Aktu: Hm...I wonder if Pascal would be interested in Italian food.

Antonio: (No, no! It's meant to be for Kent!)

Sita: (I can hear Antonio's thoughts from the bush he's trying to spy on us from.) Or maybe it's a sign that you should ask Kent for a second date.

Aktu: After what happened the first time, no way! You give it to Kent.

Sita: You know I'm not interested in that dating stuff. And didn't you tell me that Pascal was a huge health nut? He'd probably hate it.

Aktu: Hm...Ripp, what do you think?

Ripp: Beats me! What do you think, guys?

Tybalt: Kent could use a partner.

Mercutio: I say go for it! If you're still friends with him despite the fact that his presence at our family restaurant fucked up your date, then it probably had the potential to be a legendary date!

Tybalt: It wasn't his presence that was the problem! It was because your family were being stubborn assholes who didn't serve them food!

Mercutio: Normally I'd fight you on that, but you're probably right.

Aktu: (Huh, they're actually improving.) Well, alright then! I'll give him a call and see if he wants to hang out again.

Antonio: (YES! Thank goodness for that girl!...it was almost like she could read my mind!)

Sita: (If I wasn't trying to keep these powers secret, I'd make him owe me a huge favor.)

THE NEXT PAGE

[vivit-s]

Why Not Me? | Written Piece

Content Warnings: Parentification/emotional neglect, exploration of mourning/grief, referenced suicide, unhealthy (& possibly sanist) views towards suicide/depression,

Author's Note: Since this is the first of these I'll be posting, let it be known that none of these writing pieces are necessary to grasp Vivit, but are simply bonus material that give a better look into the characters the way that my animatics may not.

This piece may contain spoilers. I don't think I'll have the time to explore this facet of Samuel and Vida's relationship in depth, hence why I've decided to post it, but this does contain material that hasn't been explored in my youtube content. If you want to avoid potentially risking a surprise for later content, then do not read.

Also as an obvious, what is written does not reflect my own views, only that of our characters. Vivit has never been a light story, and none of these characters are fully good people. If it makes you uncomfortable, good, that's the point. Please read at your own discretion.

---

“She meant… so much to me.”

“I know.”

Vida had heard as much millions of times by then. It was routine—down to their father crying in their arms on his bed as they just sat there, unmoving, uncertain; the icon of stoicism that they needed to be for the both of them, because if it wasn’t them, who else would it be?

“I could’ve—I could’ve saved her. She didn’t—”

“Dad, no,” they hushed, as quiet and sweet as they could manage despite their increasing annoyance, “It’s not your fault.”

It truly wasn’t. They hated the self loathing he held, the insistence he was capable of doing more, and all the more hated their mother for leaving the two of them alone, because it wasn’t fair. They shouldn’t have to be taking their father’s shaking hands in theirs, to be whispering soothing words as he slurred over his declarations of blame. They did it anyway, because they loved him, more than heaven and earth and certainly more than she ever did if they were still standing while she was dead. 

“It is,” he insisted, voice straining as he spoke, “I should’ve… should’ve done more to stop her, fuck, I—”

He broke into sobs again, and all they could do was hold him. They held back their own tears—from feeling powerless, hopeless, frustrated that all they could do was offer sympathetic stock phrases and offer what physical comfort they could. They were supposed to make him feel better, they were supposed to be the one to fix things, but they never could. Not with this.

And the yearned nothing more to say the truth—that their mother must’ve been heartless to subject him to something so cruel. Because how selfish could someone be to take their own life when they had a goddamn family—a husband who’d done nothing wrong and a child who would never even get to know her. She wasn’t someone worth his tears because if she loved him, really, truly, she would’ve stayed.

But they don’t. Because that’s not what the narrative is. She’s the saint, the woman that was too good for this cruel world. The definition of purity, the love of his life, the special someone that had never, in her life, done anything wrong and was somehow deserving of over a decade’s worth of pity. They don’t get it. They don’t understand why he’s not angry. But they’re not supposed to. They did as always, frowned, offered empty reassurances, because nothing else could be done. She was 10 feet under and no misplaced sympathy was bringing her back.

“Please—promise, promise you won’t leave me.”

He looked at them with the kind of desperation they were only granted in moments such as that night. They despised having to go through the motions as though they hadn’t so many times before—as if between the last time and that moment (4 entire days, if one could believe it), their mind had miraculously changed. 

But it’s not about them. It’s never about them. So they play along.

“I’m not going anywhere, I promise.”

They know their father needs reassurance more than ever because he’s afraid, but it doesn’t make it sting any less—that he still can’t trust them, that he still fears that they’d be gone in an instant. They wouldn’t—couldn’t put him through that same heartache again. They were better than that. They loved him more than that.

[whumpsecretsantaevent]

Secret Santa Gift: @quietly-by-myself

This is a Secret Santa event so there will be a blanket trigger warning for all entries, so read at your own risk! Potential trigger warnings may include nsfw themes as well as gore and possible squicks.

for quietly-by-myself <3

wanna start it off with saying that i've been meaning to read your series for so long, and when i got your name in my dms, i was so excited! i went and read the entire series, and it pained me, not being able to interact with it out of fear of you finding out i'm the one writing for you haha. i absolutely loved it! cried on several occassions, out of happiness and sadness alike (especially when it was cyril breaking down).

that being said, it's a fluff piece, little au where sacha reveals he grew up sailing/fishing, so they decide to get an aquarium:)

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Cyril, well and truly, hated going into town. It was filled with nosy people - eyes that would follow him and mouths that wouldn't stop talking. Every corner revealed a new person to stare at him, and while he could ignore them, they were still like ticks in his back, sucking the energy out.

And, although he hated the town, he would go into it as many times as needed, if it was for Sacha.

!!!!!!!!!

It had been a quiet morning, a couple months after Sacha started speaking, where the two of them were sat at the table, eating. Amber was, unsuccessfully, trying to steal food from Cyril's plate, with Sacha occasionally eyeing her, a shy smile on his lips. It was going to be a good day, Cyril thought.

Amber's antics were put on hold when Sacha picked her up, seemingly readying to say something. Cyril gave him the time, patiently drinking his vegetable soup.

"Cyril."

The man looked up, giving him his undivided attention. The action made Sacha curl inwards a bit, but he managed to bear through it.

"I grew up fishing. Sailing, and - and the like," Sacha said, his voice barely above a whisper.

Cyril nodded, encouraging him to continue. He could see it - Sacha on a boat, catching fish. It was odd, but it suited him.

"I really, uh, m-miss it. The water. Fish."

It sounded like a request, but Cyril had no idea what he was trying to say. He didn't even know how close the nearest waterbody was, if Sacha was trying to ask for a trip.

He didn't continue, fiddling with Amber's tail, an awkward silence filling up the air. It felt like he was trying to say more, but just couldn't get it out. Cyril tried to guess.

"Do you... want a trip? Somewhere with water?"

"N-No, no," Sacha stammered, anxiously petting Amber. "I just miss it."

Cyril gave him a soft smile, happy with the exchange. It wasn't much, but it must've took Sacha a lot to be able to confess to something as common as missing things you loved. To be honest, Cyril wasn't too fond of road trips. Trips, in general, actually. He enjoyed being home, in the mountains, with his garden nearby, the quiet above all.

But this couldn't go, just like that. And, if he couldn't bring Sacha to water, maybe he could...

"Sacha, I have an idea," Cyril said, a wide smile creeping on his face.

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Sacha had seemed to love the thought, as far as Cyril could tell. He offered a rare, sweet smile, and nodded eagerly. It was enough for Cyril to make up his mind.

He started by clearing up some space in the kitchen. It wasn't a big place by any means, but a small, lively aquarium would fit, and the look on Sacha's face would be worth the work. Ordering the tank was easy enough, although pricey, and the walks into town to buy plants and all sorts of utensils for it were... bearable, with the end result in mind.

To be truthful, Cyril knew barely anything about fish, but that was a great opportunity for Sacha to help - it would definitely aid in him breaking out of his shell.

With quiet words and soft suggestions, Sacha guided him through the process of setting up the tank. It really was a small one, barely 30 liters, but when he thought Cyril wasn't looking, Sacha's eyes were bright with admiration. The toughest part was over - the substrate, the plants, the filters and all sorts of needed machinery were set up. Cyril found it surprisingly relaxing, as it felt almost like working in his garden.

!!!!!!!!!!!!

It had been hard, at the beginning, to figure out Sacha's thoughts, but as time passed, Cyril got better and better. So, when looking at the dozens of species of fish in the petshop, no matter how hard Sacha tried to suppress his interest, Cyril could see right through him. His eyes kept gliding to something he hadn't expected - guppies. Tiny, with long, colorful flirry tails, Cyril couldn't say they weren't adorable. But to say he wasn't surprised by Sacha's interest in them would be too much.

"I thought you'd like bigger fish, like the ones you find in lakes," Cyril admitted.

Sacha immediately snapped to attention, and Cyril cringed a bit. He had taken it as criticism, hadn't he?

"I - I do," he stammered.

"Hey, if you want guppies or anything else, we can get those, that's prefectly fine," Cyril said, trying to shrug off the previous comment.

"We wouldn't..." Sacha frantically looked around for a moment.

"Sacha, it's okay. You can tell me anything."

It was quiet for a moment, followed by Sacha taking a deep breath.

"We wouldn't be able to keep bigger fish anyways. It's a small aquarium."

"Oh." Cyril felt dumb, but that was true. Their tank was only 30 liters, lake fish would just struggle their entire lives in there. Something about that hit him unexpectedly, looking at the man in front of him.

Sacha's eyes went wide. With panicked whispers, Sacha approached him. "I wasn't trying to order you around. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, you can keep any kind of fish in there, I-"

Cyril gently took his hand in his, trying his best to keep his voice down as well. "Sacha, no, no. This is your aquarium, you can choose whatever you want for it. Don't worry about it, I just - okay, look, I'm not very accustomed to anything fish-related. You had to walk me through the entire setup, remember?"

Sacha nodded, absently. He was losing him.

"The guppies - You were looking at the guppies, right?" Cyril said, leading him there.

Slowly, Sacha's eyes refocused on the colorful fish darting around. There were dozens of them, divided into multiple tanks, seemingly by color. The one right in front had a school of bright red guppies, with some more colorful than others. Cyril assumed those were the male fish.

"It's your aquarium, Sacha. Couldn't bring you to a lake, so I thought I'd try bringing the lake to you. You can choose whichever fish you want, as long as they're right for the tank we have."

It was a long while before he got a response.

"I like these ones," Sacha said, gaze flickering inbetween them and Cyril. His eyes seemed... watery.

"Then we'll get these ones," Cyril nodded, smiling.

With the help of an employee, they found out the fish were called Flame Guppies, and Sacha got to choose which ones they would take home. The coincidence - Cyril was sure it was actually connected, somehow - of Sacha's preferred fish being related to flames, with how he adored the fire, was not lost on him. 

After paying, the employee handed Sacha the bag of water and fish, and Cyril had to stifle a laugh when he noticed how dedicated Sacha was to keeping them as comfortable as possible. It reminded him of their first days with Amber, when the man took care of the kitten so, so gently. Sacha truly was a kind, soft soul, and it made Cyril's heart ache. It hurt to look at him be so skittish and unsure, always asking permission and forgiveness for things so insignificant.

The road home was quiet, as it usually was. Once there, the two men did exactly as told by the employees at the petshop - slowly add tank water to the bag with fish, to let them get used to it.

Over the span of half an hour, the fifteen guppies were acclimated and ready for the tank, and, despite his usual self, Cyril was excited to see them in their new home.

"Do you want to put them in?" Cyril asked, holding the bag.

"No - I'm afraid, with my - my hands. They're shaky, and I don't want to drop them."

Cyril nodded, apologetically, and slowly poured the bag's water into the aquarium. The fish immediately took to it, hiding inbetween the many plants, and Cyril thought they looked like tiny sparks from the fireplace, drifting along.

He turned his head, and was pleasantly met with Sacha's intense, affectionate gaze as he followed the fish. Amber was to the side, doing the same, and Cyril made a mental note of never leaving the cover off the aquarium.

"Cyril," Sacha said, voice quivering.

"Yeah, Sacha?"

"Thank you, so much. It - It's perfect. It really is. Thank you."

"Of course, Sacha."

"Can I hug you, please?"

Cyril felt his voice break. "Of course."

As he felt Sacha melt in his arms, Cyril couldn't help but think that the end result was far better than what he thought it would be like.

happy holidays, from your secret santa <3

[comic8quest]

QUEST_WATER_hart_08 -------->

Greys_Log

Standing still, mind screaming, fists clenched, a sense of dread. Regret, unable to move. Frozen, in a pool of you. Everyone, loved and lost, their lessons liquified and refined, slowed until frozen to observe and learn. Learn from the past, there is no such thing as the future.

"The present is the only real time." -Alan Watts

I found things on each of my journeys, small treasures, though some seem obvious now that I think of it. Each one was just a light of hope, a piece of joy which I find in every day life which allows me to continue on. Here, in this arid hellscape, I have only found one. A tiny purple plastic bead with the letter K. My ear rang, as the previous day, I had decided officially to move away. Before, when I was living with my sister and I had dropped my healthy habits, I did find treasures. Ones I could share. I have learned many things about this desert. Now, I have an answer to another question I've had for many years. The location of Project X.

Each of these treasures have helped me through a sense of guilt for all of the lost possibilities in my life. Many of which I had no power to control, so a reminder of the possibilities I have in the present pushed me forward. Then, When I went there... The birthplace of it all. I was given so many gifts from The Mother, I cannot look away. This new path is the one I decide to walk, despite the dangers, despite the risk.

Still, my relationships feel shallow, something caused by no one but me, not reaching out more. Yet, I can only hope that this will turn out to be okay. I want to trust the people in my life. I want to love and be loved, just like all living things. Love comes in many forms, I hope I find the love that's right for me.

/Chat_ Grey: Are you sure about this? Neon: I think it's the only way at this point. Biting the bullet, taking the chance. What is there left to loose? Grey: My life? My privacy? Neon: Who's been in control of that this entire time? Grey: Don't give me that. Neon: What? Everyone's movements are monitored daily, unless you're skilled enough to stay off the grid. With technology now, even the ones protecting against it struggle. But there is hope, even in that. Computer programmers have yet to perfect AI enough to be used en masse. Grey: What point are you trying to make? Neon: As long as you don't do anything incredibly stupid and out of character, no one will care. Grey: ... Hmmm... Neon: Prove Who You Are. Tell your story. Grey: ... It's scary. Neon: ... I was gonna "say so was I", but... You weren't scared of me even back then, when you felt a piece of my true power. Grey: It's because I could feel how sad you were... and I didn't want you to be alone in that. Neon: ... I'll protect you in any way I can. Please help me learn more about this world. Grey: I will. Pebbles: Buy more mace... Maybe another key ring knuckle Grey: That's not very trusting of you, Pebs. Wabbit: I mean, Pebbles isn't wrong. Danger is everywhere. Even if it isn't our friends who are out for us, being prepared for any situation is better than not. It may take extra time, but it's worth it. Grey: I think we've gone off topic. Wabbit: EXPOSE yourself, baby. Shed your skin of that old mask, return to your truest form. Listen to that beat in your heart and dance along! You've got it in you I know you do I've seen it in your dreams day and night. You've got an affinity for it, honey I know I'm right. If they don't see you like I do, don't bother sticking around. I know it hurts but you've got places to be, people to meet. People who will see the true you, and love you inside and out. Hope the deepest relationships stay, but can they truly stay the same? Be creative, open that third eye, look into the void. See what other's cannot. Become a beacon of hope. Grey: Okay, now I think that's going a little too far. <--------

< Back or Next >

[urdinosaurs]

HI I JUST WANNA SAY THANK YOU FOR YOUR SERVICE ‼️‼️‼️‼️ THAT HOBIE ONESHOT, U DROPPED SOMETHING, MY JAW ILOVEU LMAO u write amazingly all jokes aside!!!🫶🫶 and if you have time maybe another sheet gripping oneshot ig... lmaoaoaooa I'm sorry😭😭 thanks again ily

╰┈➤ ❝ 𝐔𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐏𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄 ❞ | 𝐇𝐎𝐁𝐈𝐄 𝐁𝐑𝐎𝐖𝐍

PROMPT: what was supposed to be a one-time thing isn't, not when hobie slides his phone number in your bra after fucking you dumb backstage. it leads you to reserve sat nights for him to fuck him afterwards. however, one night you decide to trade your usual style for something more revealing. who knew the decision would provoke such jealousy and sex and change everything you thought you knew about hobie?

WARNINGS: afab reader, rockstar exhibitionist!hobie, unprotected p in v, major cockwarming, canon divergence, insecurity, self-consciousness, public sex, little degradation, possessive hobie, 5.2k wc

A/N: ahhh thank you, sm ily more, ur so silly and amazing and you get me!!! i've been meaning to write more rockstar hobie and was inspired by this post (editing this, i noticed some of the details are the same, which is completely unintentional. i do not mean in any shape or form to copy the author of that fic. I had written a good amount before the fic even came out. pls keep that in mind)

you were at hobie's shows more often than you would like to admit. you liked the music, the message it sent, and the atmosphere that filled you with a sense of belonging, but it's the performers that enticed you to come back to this dingy venue time and time again.

you knew each of them well after hobie expressed his attraction to you following a show almost three months ago when he had pulled you backstage and fucked you within an inch of your life. afterwards, he slipped a piece of paper into your bra and sent you off with a wink, his bandmates not hiding their stares and smirks at your rumpled clothing and smudged makeup. only when you were outside, sometime past midnight, did you pull the paper out, unfolding it to reveal the messy digits of his phone number scrawled across the dirty wrapper. it was a one-time thing until it wasn't.

from that day forward, you visited every saturday night, coming early to get a good place at the front, where he would shower you with subtle attention and lingering glances. this left you to act as desperate and horny as any other wearing low-cut tops and skirts, so small they hardly served their purpose, acting docile and dumb with a tinge of desperation; all tactics that were played in the endless roulette of catching his eye.

you lamented how these woman degrade themselves by shoving their self worth and respect away in the hopes of being noticed. not that you could be one to critize when that pliant and passive self you swallowed when he was on stage would be bullied out of you by his cock each time he pulled you somewhere new, somehow finding a way to make your legs shake better than the last time you met. you find your hypocrisy amusing.

the experiences, however, were euphoric. the risk of getting caught and the new highs of pleasure hobie brought you made a dangerous combination you found yourself addicted to.

at the end of your sexual encounters, he would bring you to the place they called "the lounge" to relax. alcohol was graciously provided along with the occasional cig or blunt, depending on what they could get their hands on, allowing you to indulge yourself. each of them got to know you better after each week while you sat in hobie's lap in an almost domestic scene, the four of them sending you on your way well past midnight. there was no name for this relationship you formed with hobie, and you learned to be okay with it, more so afraid of how fast he'd push you to the side if you wanted more.

tonight was no different. you moved to the music, neon lights dancing over your skin, shoulder to shoulder with people who reeked of booze and sweat. still, your exhilaration was responsible for the one thing that had changed: your outfit. the fabric was more revealing than any of the others you've worn, practically begging for his attention, and the possibility of receiving it outshines how desperate you must look. the regular attendees giving you dirty looks at your appearance don't matter, not when hobie's on stage.

the song ends, and clapping breaks out, cries and screams of approval thundering through the room. his smile is almost boyish as he leans into the mic, sweat gleaming deliciously across his skin.

"lookin' real nice for us tonight." he draws playfully, winking at one of the girls in the audience, and you fight the jealousy forming a pit in your stomach. "you must 'ave remembered our one-year anniversary, unlike these twiddling twats behind me." hobie gestures behind him teasingly, earning a punch to the shoulder from h, as they so call him, whose dreads frame his sour expression, unamused by his antics.

back and forth, hobie scans the crowd, wavering on familiar faces before moving on and inevitably landing on you. his surprise flickers across his face in an instant, and you know right then that he sees your outfit. he inspects you up and down, even leaning forward on his tippy toes to get a better view from above (and stare down your shirt).

your breath is caught in your chest, waiting in a state of anticipation and a sense of hopefulness, bouncing back and forth on your feet. it's funny how someone you look up to, their opinions and approval, can hold such a weight that you'd crave it as severely as you would thirst for water. you need something, just anything that says you've impressed him. it takes him a second to snap himself out of his trance, and that's when his lips curl into a devilish smirk.

"we got a looker tonight, boys," he whistles lowly. "migh' 'ave to take 'er back after 'his to show 'er a proper good time, doncha think?" he chuckles, laughter and cheers filling the room. you're astounded-- aroused, your jaw dropping and your eyelids drooping as you gape with the purest form of lust painted beautifully on your features. he shamelessly adjusts himself through his pants, earning screams and whistles alike as his tongue flicks to the roof of his mouth, staring at you dead in the eyes. "yeah, i think she would like that, wouldn'' ya, swee'heart?"

starstruck would be an understatement of what you feel. dumbfounded, brain dead, brainless, except for worshiping the ground he walked on would all be better ways to begin to describe what's taken hold of you. not trusting yourself to speak, he takes your fawning appearance as an answer, nodding to himself. his lip is caught between his teeth, stealing one last look before returning to the anxiously awaiting crowd.

"enough ov me tryna shag 'er. le''s get back to the show, yeah?" the rest of the performance passes by in a daze, and you're still reeling from the encounter earlier as people begin filling out. you follow them, conversation flowing effortlessly from the people around you as they gush about the experience. you move to the bar to wait for hobie, and a woman passes you. she sneers, scowling and looking at you up and down, her lips curled into a snarl. "whore," she spits before disappearing into the crowd.

your mouth opens to retaliate, but you're too astonished to speak, and you don't realize you've stopped moving until someone's shoulder collides with yours. the force makes you stumble forward, your breath hitching, your hands scrambling to stop the fall, but boney arms catch you before you can. slipping into their arms, you plant your hands on the mysterious chest to steady yourself, mumbling an apology before you can get your thoughts together.

"'s all right, luv." the familiar timbre of his voice has your eyes shooting upwards, catching on hobie's dark ones, twinkling with amusement and playfulness. "if 'his is all it takes for you to fall for me, i should 'ave done it sooner."

you scoff at his corny joke, pretending to find it stupid while glancing away in humiliation and dusting off your clothing.

"if that's your sense of humor, maybe i'm fucking the wrong guy." you tease, pulling your shirt collar in place, gathering the courage to steal a glimpse. hobie peers at you incredulously while huffing a laugh, cheeks pulling into a smile as he shakes his head.

"that mean yur not in the mood tonight?" he bends forward, and you can smell him better, leather, cigarettes, beer, and cologne all enticing you. "we can just hang if that's what ya' want." he offers, shoving his hands into his pockets.

you shake your head awkwardly, clearing your throat. "no– no, i want to. wouldn't have come if i didn't."

hobie's eyebrows raise at this, leaning in and invading your space further. "so that's all i'm good for? my dick?" he sounds curious, not offended, just wondering almost. you gape at him, embarrassed by his lack of decorum and how far removed that statement was from the truth. he cocks his head to the side, seemingly trying to figure you out, and you can't stand how easily he's able to.

"i didn't think you wanted me for anything but my body." you shrug, your gaze flitting away out of embarrassment.

"low blow, mate. i can't believe you would think so little of me," he clutches his hand to his chest dramatically, rolling his neck to the side in faux hurt.

"hey." he taps your cheek with two fingers, guiding it back to his, where his countenance has turned solemn. "don't think i would use you like 'at,' alright?"

nodding your head is about all you can do, offering him a half-hearted smile despite your lingering doubts. he sees through it because, of course, he does, but thankfully doesn't comment on it. turning to the door that allows access backstage, his head jerks to it in question.

a grin beams across your face, thankful for the change in the topic as you cling to his arm, letting him guide you back.

"nice get up" he nods to your outfit, his lopsided grin returning. "a bit revealing, innit?"

"thought you liked that." your shoulders shrug, breathing picking up. the interaction leaves you unsure where hobie's heading with this, and you're growing worried he's trying to insinuate something. the lady's jab reverberates in your head, leaving you wondering if he's hinting at what he heard before if he heard it. even though it's unlikely he would, due to his only instances of calling you such names being in the heat of the moment. unless you read it wrong, and it's not just while you're having sex, maybe it's how he views you, and you've just been naive enough to believe he thought more of you–

"oi." hobie stops, spinning around to face you. "what's goin' on?"

clearing your face of its surprised impression is more challenging than you anticipated, and he notices it, a hand falling to your shoulder. the contact burns your skin, making you painfully aware of how close he is. "is it about tonight? we don't have to--"

"i already said i want to hobie. it's nothing, just in my head, is all." studying you for a moment longer, he buys your response, not liking it but letting it slide for now. his arm slinks around your neck, where he pulls you to his side, the tension from the earlier conversation dissipating as soon as he pushes the door open. except when you enter, it's not some room with barely working lights or a bathroom that looks like it hasn't been cleaned in the last decade. instead, it's the lounge, and the three men sitting there are looking suspiciously between you.

you're never in here this early, and they know it too. the fact that he brought you here first knots your chest into the familiar sensation of arousal.

"hobie," you murmur, a lot shyer than you were a minute ago, anxiousness marrying your features. he grins wider, patting your back reassuringly and guiding both of you to the used, plush chair.

"thought you guys were gonna go at it like rabbits tonight," the rhythm guitarist comments, his striped headband holding his mohawk from his face, a deep frown etched in it. the excitement damping your panties has you hearing his voice in an entirely different light. you've listened to it hundreds of times before as backup vocals, but it's attractive how he lazily draws his phrases, and you can't help but wonder why you've never realized this before.

hobie's long fingers tap your jaw, clearly unhappy with your wandering focus. "who says we won''?" he responds nonchalantly, your first inclination of what's about to occur. he flops back into the chair with his hands behind his head. "sit," he commands you easily.

you glance back at the men who discreetly steal glances at your attire before you turn back to hobie, gulping.

he's hard. that much is painfully evident from the tent in his pants, and you search his expression for an explanation, yet he relinquishes nothing. it takes only a moment of deliberation, and you're stepping over his leg while he helps you take a seat, panties gliding over his erection. you're trying to get comfortable without making it obvious how much you want more than what he's giving you, but the breath is stolen from your lungs when you lean forward slowly, your hips grinding ever so slightly on his jeans' rough fabric. he clicks his tongue in annoyance, using your hips like a handle to pull you across his lap. your teeth sink into your lower lip to contain the yelp at the precipice of your lower lip, staring at him with wild eyes.

you're having trouble piecing together his next move, his purpose for bringing you here. he's obviously horny, but what's his goal? to show you off?

minutes pass, the conversation between the band members picks up, and the smell of weed fills the air shortly after. curiously you direct your attention to him, and hobie presses a kiss on your head in response, quietly sitting straighter so you're not sitting directly on his erection. music from the venue speakers fills the room while the building welcomes the last performers of the night. the walls vibrate with the bass, shattering any form of silence. from what you can tell, it's not bad, but you're too focused on the almost indistinct zip of hobie's zipper to notice.

his fingers dance over his pants, pulling his flushed tip from its confines, the rest springing out, hard and desperate. it takes longer than it should to figure out where he's going with this, and when you do, your head snaps to attention, mouth agape.

he offers you a smug smirk, raising his eyebrow as if daring you to cockwarm him in front of his buddies. he must feel the way your cunt throbs because his dark irises engulf his pupils, long fingers wrapping around himself with a concealed hiss, precum beading at the tip. if his hand lazily gliding around his cock head is anything to go by, he seems to enjoy your deliberation.

you reach forward slowly and lightly trace your finger over the exposed skin. hobie jumps, hips tilting up to meet your slow strokes, his shaft twitching. precum leaks further down his length, droplets of it meeting your curled fist.

taking a steadying breath and quickly glancing behind you to ensure the three other people, no more than six feet away, know what you are doing, you lift your skirt and pull your panties to the side, slowly sinking onto him. he's big, and without any prep, the stretch teeters on the edge of unpleasurable.

biting back your noises and moving steadily so the fluids from your connecting bodies are silent is the hardest part after being so used to him encouraging any sound. nonetheless, you manage somehow, fullying, seating yourself with a quiet huff, clenching and unclenching as you get used to being full. hobie's practically giddy with glee, his lips quirking in a sanguine grin, knowing full well you'd never deny him.

time passes in a slow tick, and conversation floating between his friends occupying the room becomes background noise with your head on hobie's chest. you're not focused on anything in particular, having drifted into an airy headspace, his silky cock the only thing keeping you grounded.

hobie's hand stops its slow circles across your lower back, boney fingers splaying across it. the break from his methodical comfort jerks you back to the present as he leans forward to grab the joint one of them offers.

his cock head shifts inside you, nudging a spot deeper inside your core that after so long of not moving, a light noise, an inkling of a whimper, vibrates in your throat. heat flares, red and hot, as the lust you've been trying to quell roars its head, setting your body ablaze.

you're striving to be good, you really are, but the peers from the others and hobie's smug grin are making it impossible to do so.

again he moves to return the blunt, and your slick drips down his cock obscenely. from being splayed across his lap for so long, you're hyper-aware of every ridge and curve of his dick, the veins lining it, and the distinct pulse it beats to. it's almost as needy as you and your achy clit begging for stimulation.

the beginnings of restlessness dawn upon you, hips sore from being kept open for so long. your toes curl in your shoes as you try to remain still, very aware of the other people in the room, though you must be getting too antsy for his liking because he pinches the fat of your hip. the sigh escaping your puckered lips is low enough for his ears alone.

a chuckle, not from hobie, resounds through the room, cutting through their easy conversation. "your girl ge''in sleepy on ya'?"

your hot breath fans across hobie's neck, and unconsciously your pussy flutters around his unmoving shaft. the feeling of him keeping you stuffed to the brim is too much, and you're becoming more desperate for him to provide you with stimulation of some sort.

"why don't you ask her?" hobie shrugs, his grip tightening. you can't see them, but you can only imagine their reaction as you hear a bean bag shift.

"'re you ge''in tired, swee'heart?" the drummer– no guitarist- asks, his voice dripping with condensation, the flirty undertone surprising you.

"turn 'round," hobie commends, jaw clenching while tapping your hip, "bit rude to turn your back on my mates when they're talkin' to ya', aye?"

your breathing picks up significantly, and you look to him for guidance, your heart beating outside your chest. his hardened expression melts just slightly, and his hand traces the contours of your face, letting his rings slide down before cupping your jaw gently. "you can do it. go on."

if the other men in the room had no idea what was happening then, they have to now when you turn around. his cock moves inside you, heavy and thick, and you nearly sob in relief. it's a miracle you're able to stifle your moans as you lift your hips ever so slightly, his dick slipping from your gummy walls while you carefully change direction, trying to hold him inside.

you're barely clinging onto the threads of your control, holding back from fucking yourself on him with the bit of restraint you possess. faintly it crosses your mind how they haven't protested or found any of hobie's exhibitionist tendencies, and apparently yours too, perverted. they want this, and hobie seems to know it too by how his body hunches possessively around you. gradually, the situation makes sense in a way that suggests he planned this. which begs the question, had they discussed this? after hobie's instance of not sharing you, had he done this to prove something?

your head swims with new information, and the desire singing in your veins turns your thoughts into molasses. each of them goggles at glimpses of your mound from where your skirt rides up, fixated on your trembling form. you slump back, the new angle making it harder to sit still.

the drummer shakes his head, blonde spikes streaked with red catching the dim light, lowly whistling when he catches sight of your skirt fluttering when you sit back down. he chuckles, "you perverted bastard."

"i don't know what ya' mean," hobie coyly replies, feigning indifference. you look at his band members, the tension rising now that they know for sure and see what's happening. the smell of sex permeates your senses the longer your eyes linger on the rest of them. the bassist, farthest away from you caresses himself through his pants to satisfy his bulge straining through it.

"at 'his poin,' jus' fuck 'er, 'obes. we all know wha' you're doin," one calls out, and you feel his neck straining as he scrutinizes him.

"so you dirty pigs can get a peak? nah, she's fine where she's at"

"well, if you're not gonna do it, i'm sure i can finish the job," h tilts his head, dark irises blown wide by his lust. it has your breath stuttering, your mind wiped by the simple request, and if hobie's taut muscles are anything to go by, he's growing increasingly frustrated by the idea. not jealous per se, he's too secure in himself to be, but almost angered by his audacity.

his hands engulf your hips in one quick movement pulling them forward to impale you hard on his cock. the moan punches from your throat, and you keen over, unable to move with the feeling of hobie so deep in your stomach.

"who says i wanna give her up?" he's moving you, grinding your clit over his pubic hair, and creating a rhythm that has you seeing stars. "happy?"

"by seeing her? fuck, i could cum from the sight alone, but i wouldn'' mind taking a go at it. who knows, she migh' like it better." he's playing into hobie's bitterness, and you don't know if you should thank him or not because it's spurring him on, and he's grunting and thrusting into you unsparingly.

"you're delusional," hobie drawls, pulling your back flush with his toned chest, and the movement chokes out a cry.

"your faul' for fucking your girl in fron' ov us when you know she likes it," the guitarist notes, the red and blue headphones around his neck sticking to his sweaty skin.

"you've never minded before," he retaliates, and you brush off the implications that this has happened before, and despite your efforts, you cling to the words "your girl." you have to bite your lip to contain your grin. since meeting him, all you wanted was to be his, and being referred to as his, proved to be a greater comfort than you could have imagined.

you fumble for something to ground you as your half-lidded eyes watch the members of the band you've known for months get off to you. the emotion building in your chest from the attention is unexplainable. however, hobie makes his disapproval obvious by keeping his hips snapping furiously. you're sure your cervix will be bruised at the end of this, and the ache between your legs will make walking impossible, but the way he's controlling your pleasure so spectacularly leaves little thought for the future.

"fuckin' hell, luv." he moans, his breath fanning across your neck. "they've been talking 'bout you, ya know?" hobie grunts suddenly, "longest time i've been with a girl, wanted to know when it was their turn" he lowers his voice, his mouth next to your ear as he takes ahold of your chin so you're staring right at his band members getting off. "know wha' i said, huh? I wasn't keen on sharin' 'his one. too perfect a girl for 'at. and do you know what they told me?"

you whine, shaking your head. the moans strain your throat from their loud pitch, unfiltered and unrestrained in a way the men seem to revel in.

"bastards didn't believe me. shoved the idea of an angel willingly bouncing on my cock like a cheap whore. now look at them. a bloody mess at the sight of ya'."

he's right, and it's becoming impossible to think of anything outside this moment, outside him pistoning into you. his thrusts are measured but aggressive all the same, almost as if he's trying to prove to them that no one could fuck you as well as him. he's all you can feel as moans and whines tumble out.

"bloody hell, mate. swear, you gotta let me have a taste," the drummer, whose name escapes you, begs, pulling his rather significant length from his pants, tugging on it with an expression you can only define as carnality.

"see. what did i tell you? practically drooling for ya'." hobie ignores him, fingers snaking around to furiously rub your neglected clit, the base of his cock disappearing in your slick-coated walls. there's nothing human about how he maintains his thrusts, possessiveness embedded into your skin from how hard his fingers hold your hips. the ugly mixture of jealousy turns you on far more than it should.

"shit, such a good girl, f'me, all f'me. best hole i've ever 'ad."

your eyes are blurry with tears, choking on your spit, moans cutting off any attempt at talking while your legs shake. hobie's pace doesn't falter, seemingly encouraged by your rapidly growing climax. "there you go, sweet thing. gonna cum? show these twits they couldn't make you feel half as good?"

whines and whimpers fill the air along with the course of skin slapping over the music based in the next room.

you whimper, mustering your strength to nod your head frantically, on the verge of babbling. he delivers a sharp slap to your ass, causing you to arch into him.

"right there, 's right there, fuckin angel. perfect, f'me, just me." he's reduced to babbling, impaling you relentlessly with his twitching dick, balls slapping lewdly against your ass while tears gather behind your eyes. there's none of the eye contact he usually craves, just your sweaty body slumped into his, thighs perched open by his in a way that would be intimate if it wasn't for the three other people in the room.

his thumb vigorously rubs circles on your clit, your pussy gripping him like a voice while the knot in your stomach tightens. you're nearing the edge faster than you can make sense of, his pace unfaltering, when suddenly he's forcefully pressing down on the sensitive bundle of nerves. you're coming with a strangled cry the next second, your back bending off his toned chest, the tension in your stomach breaking in one sudden push. he chases his orgasm like a madman, fucking into you like somebody will rip you from his arms if he doesn't.

all at once, his sticky body stutters, his chest heaving as hobie cums with a filthy moan. his mouth parts in a silent cry, broken sounds of pleasure auditable through the wet squelch of your pussy and the obscene sounds that follow your release.

your sure the both of you are a sight to behold with your matching fucked out expressions as a result of coming down from an intense, mind-shattering high. his absurd amount of spend is plugged deep inside by his softening cock. it takes a couple of moments for your breaths to even out, and you can already feel the beginnings of soreness settling in your joints.

"fuck me, bro," his drummer sighs, using a tissue to wipe his cock free from his cum. "i don't know how you do it. i can never get good pussy like you."

and just like that, the high is ripped away, abruptly plunging you back into reality. the lady's words echo in your head, blaring red and loud like a warning. whore. that's all you were to them. some cheap use of cunt that's only good for a release. it's why he never invited you any other day than saturday. why your relationship is built on sex alone and not some connection you seem to feel.

it's as if someone dumped cold water over you, and you're suddenly vulnerable. even fully dressed, you feel as exposed as if you were naked, thoroughly used with hobie's cum leaking out of you. truly you feel like nothing more than a whore while being spread open so vulgarly.

slowly you stand, mindful of your achy body. his touch lingers like he's not expecting you to leave, and you squash the hope he wants you to say before it can fully form. the other guys realize this is your goodbye before hobie does, beaming at you.

"maybe next time, sweetheart. you let us know if this geezer ain't treating you right, yeah?" h announces, grinning while tucking himself back into his pants, hobie following suit, his stare burning a hole in the back of your head. you smile, humorlessly chuckling as you try to regain some sense of dignity.

"hey," hobie's eyebrows furrowed in confusion, grabbing your hand with a severe expression forgoing his usual playful complexion. "aren't you staying?"

"i figured i'd better get out of your hair early. i'm sure you have things to do." your clothing has been fixed, yet you keep fiddling with it, using it as a distraction and a reason not to keep the eye contact he's searching for.

"never said 'at." silence follows like he's leading up to a question he's afraid to ask. "everything alright?"

swallowing the knot in your throat, you hum in agreement. "yeah. yeah, i'm fine."

you expect him to brush it off like he did the past couple of times because why would he care about how you feel? it's not like you're in a relationship. he is not obligated to feed you reassurance and ensure you're okay. you prepare to take a step back to leave, afraid to face him reflecting the disappointment bubbling in your chest.

you don't know how he does it, how he can so effortlessly continue to surprise you and question everything you think you know about him all by a simple tug at your hand. the gasp is stuck in your throat when your feet trip over each other by the pull, and you somehow end up in his lap, gazing into his adamant and worried features. "i don't believe you."

"yeah, well…" trailing off, your standing attempts are denied by his rings digging into your skin.

"not gonna ask again, luv," hobie says sternly, leaving no room for argument. he searches your face for an answer, lips pressing into a rigid line while waiting for a response. you're trying to find an excuse when you see it. the shift in his eyes, the shine that replaces it, and his face overcome with realization. "does it 'ave some'hin' to do with wha' she said?"

your entire face falls, your heart sinking to your stomach in horror. had he heard what the woman had said? it wasn't impossible since he was so close when he caught you. he could have easily heard it. "you started actin' funny after she said it," he explains, though it isn't needed. you swallow the lump in your throat, nodding and frantically trying to find a way to escape this, but he beats you to it by pulling you into his chest.

"you're not." these two simple words set your entire world off its axis or right back on it: you're not sure which yet. it takes longer than necessary to sink in, and once it does, your chest is tight with emotion. you have half a mind to argue, deny it like the voice in the back of your head is begging you to do.

"you're not," he says with firm authority, his hands grasping at your shoulders in a plea for you to understand. you might never know why, but it makes your heart stop and speed up simultaneously.

he observes you slowly grasping the words, letting you accept them under his roaming gaze. the stiff lines of your face relax in acceptance, and his smirk curls into something devious as he kisses the crown of your head.

this not all that sorry yall

"don't worry, you're pretty 'ead, luv. they'll learn not to mess with what's mine soon enough."

TAGLIST: @alicefallsintotherabbithole

[somian-audere]

ENTRY XVI

Something new, something else

This week has been a wild one,

It’s been really good, too good, one might say, but I’ve taken it in stride, because next week is going to be quite challenging to say the least. But an update on the last entry, I did the activity solo however it suddenly shifted into a recorded video format so I got off pretty easy. But…I still decided to do it in the only way I knew how, as silly and as stupid as I could do it. And funnily enough, I was proud of it. I slept at midnight just so I could finish it, and let me tell you I always sleep at around 11pm but this was the first time that I did something that kept me up the whole night. 

I was happy.

As a saying goes, “You can spell fun out of suffering, but you can’t get suffering from fun,” and I enjoyed making it, flaws and all. Sure, I made a few editing mistakes, and probably a few too many horrible jokes for the time allotted but I didn’t care! Could I have added more scientific details? Probably, but I didn’t hesitate, this work was wholly me. It’s been some time since I made something for me, and not for someone else’s sake, not for a group, or some people that I don’t care about and have to impress, no…just me.

I…lost myself in a moment.

I know, I’m probably just high from the risk and the danger of doing it the way that I did, but I did anyway because I didn’t want to regret not ever doing it at all. It’s as though for a moment, I cast aside all my doubtful thoughts, all the concerns, and my critiques for something genuine. Will I get a bad grade? Highly likely, went over the time limit, and didn’t really delve into the topic but just this once, it was worth it. 

---

I guess I was wrong.

…?

You were right about me. I work better when I don’t think at all. 

That statement? Please, you were thinking all the way through it all. It was your mind that got us through it.

W-what?

HAHAHAHAHA! There’s a difference between thinking and worrying. You’re always so afraid of stepping on someone’s shoes that you don’t take a step at all. All you needed was a push, to stop worrying, and just lose yourself!

I-I…thank you.

Just remember, if you just keep going, being true to who you are and what you want, that’s the moment when you’re alive. 

Even if it means letting go of…

Especially then, pride is the only thing holding you back! Who cares about what's right and proper? Who cares about our reputation?

That's a bit extreme but a part of me agrees with your madness.

Madness huh? Well you still have some time, we’ll get through it! There’s no point in thinking about the future, it just distracts you from what you should be doing. The present is ours to make. 

You sound like a cat poster.

And you sound like a poor sad-sac that’s been forced to watch too many meta jokes to actually take a genuine piece of advice.

…That one actually hurt.

Eh, get over it. 

---

It’s funny,

How trying something new made me think that I was insane. But in truth, I realize now that the old adage of, “Insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting a new result,” holds some truth. I’ve been stuck here forcing myself to love a course that only hurt me, and I’m sticking with it, but I’m done hating myself or this path I chose. Everyone makes a mistake, and sometimes these mistakes define a really significant part of our lives, but I’m done learning from them, I’m done regretting everything that I’ve ever done. The lessons that I've learned I'll keep in my heart, and everything else, I'll move on from. I'll just be myself, not the genius person that I thought I was, but just a simple person trying to find my place in this world. That's all I've ever been, and that's all I've ever needed to be.

A crack in the door’s been open

My eyes are now beholden

To a place where I can break

I now know, what’s at stake

Tomorrow might not wait

So today is my fate.

Oh, and I got a crush this week too.

Yeah, she’s a student at my university though a different college and course, so that meets the first criteria, as I really don’t want to end up with someone in the sciences, believe me that’s just going to end up in disaster. I’m really getting sick of hearing science facts and stuff like that, so just that point is a plus in my book. She has black hair, the ideal body proportions, and glasses, need I say more?

Oh, but Somi, you just like her for her glasses? 

You say, well she’s very friendly, and she actually approached me first so there! Well, we actually met during a PE class, and ironically enough PE is my favorite subject this semester, the professor is an actual queen. Like if this professor told me to jump off a cliff, I’d do it, no hesitation. My brain at this point is really useless, but my body is a temple. Not much muscle, but I like to exercise, and another good point is that we don’t dance at all, we do yoga, a few workouts, and even eat healthy food. But this isn’t exactly the essay on why I love PE, though I can write one if I’m tempted to [immediately take note for another entry]. But this girl always talks to me after every class, we chat a bit, and sometimes we occasionally ask the other if they’re free after the class, but due to conflicting schedules we can’t exactly walk home together. 

So, Somi, why don’t you just ask her out?

Nope. I’m only physically attracted to her at this time, I’ll compliment her once (breaking one of the pre-established rules, eh, whatever) but that’s it. I can’t afford to get a relationship at this point of my life, I…I would want to…someday. But it just isn’t the right time, I’ll be graduating soon, and I don’t want to have another long-distance relationship, I can’t do that anymore. If she wants to pursue a relationship with me, then I’d say all of what I just said to her, like I definitely wouldn’t mind, anyone would be a lucky guy to ask her out, but there’s just a lot of baggage. And besides, when I’m with her I wear a façade, being a nice person, but deep down, we all know I’m not. Still though it’d be nice to have a friend outside of the main group I keep getting attached to in the sciences. 

Speaking of which,

These two people in my…workmates group, who I’ve been shipping for several months, were actually together this entire time. And they just told me a few days ago, and they kept telling me that it was obvious and that I wasn’t smart for figuring it out on my own because almost everyone knew. THEN WHY THE HECK ARE YOU ASKING ME TO KEEP IT A SECRET?! Ahem, my annoyances aside, “I CAN’T BELIEVE THAT I WAS RIGHT! MY SHIPPING RADAR STILL WORKS.” I won’t interfere with it though, just a few teasing side glances, maybe a ‘Kyaaaaaah!” (I really like romance, okay?) Here and there, because I know that bad things happen when people mess with other people’s relationships, I’ll be side character B (the one without a face) in this scenario. I’m a bit jealous though, not of the two people, but of the relationship itself, they’ve thought of a way to stay together after graduation, and I'm here with a bit of a funk. I guess love is far stronger than what I expected it could be.

Oh well,

~The single’s life for me~

~The single’s life for me~

~The single’s life for me~

I don’t know the rest of the lines of that song though.

[radiant-reid]

Songs that make me think Spence

And why

i'm really not sure what this is. i just started keeping a list of songs that reminded me of spencer and here we are so enjoy are suggestion for part II are appreciated

Cold Cold Man by Saint Motel.... but as a duet with italics being Spencer and bold being his s/o

Quite slow to pay you compliments Or public displayed affections

But baby, don't you go over analyze No need to theorize I can put your doubts to rest

You're the only one worth seeing The only place worth being The only bed worth sleeping's the one right next to you

htCan I Call You Tonight by Dayglow

an on-again-off-again situationship with Spencer.

Voice so low Sneaking around, so it goes The power's out and I can't turn the fan on

but something bad happens to him or you

I'm trying to make up my mind Just how I feel I hear your voice on the phone Now I'm no longer alone

and of course, happy ending where you get together

Don't go, don't go so easy Don't go, don't go and leave me

The Archer by Taylor Swift

Mad, post-prison

I'm ready for combat I say I don't want that, but what if I do?

lots of relationships in his life

Easy they come, easy they go

Who could ever leave me, darling? But who could stay?

he shot people and he's been shot

I've been the archer I've been the prey

Insecure, sad baby

Then hate my reflection, for years and years I wake in the night, I pace like a ghost The room is on fire, invisible smoke

All the king's horses and all the king's men Couldn't put me together again

I miss you by blink-182

Halloween is his fave

We’ll have Halloween on Christmas We can live like jack and sally

poor sad baby

This sick, strange darkness Comes creeping on, so haunting every time

Will you come home and stop this pain tonight? Stop this pain tonight

Clean by Taylor Swift

This song was absolutely written about Spencer's struggle with addiction, specifically in 3x16

Canonically, no one helped him out with his addiction

The water filled my lungs, I screamed so loud But no one heard a thing

In 3x16, he admits he's 10 months clean

Ten months sober, I must admit Just because you're clean, don't mean you don't miss it Ten months older, I won't give in Now that I'm clean, I'm never gonna risk it

Kid by Meija

sad spencer again

Give it, take it, I could break it Into a million pieces

About baby spencer going to college all alone

I'm a kid Oh my god I'm in over my head

because he knows so much and the team are always shushing him

Was it something I said? All these answers, but I forgot the question

Cigarette Daydreams by Cage The Elephant

sad spencer again

Close your eyes, so afraid Hide behind that baby face

About his relationship with Elle and his guilt about not knowing something was wrong before she left

Funny how it seems like yesterday As I recall, you were lookin' out of place Gathered up your things and slipped away

Pretty Boy by The Neighbourhood

His s/o dedicating the entire song to him

Ghosting by Mother Mother

Based after Maeve's death when Spencer's unable to sleep without seeing her, and the scene where they dance and he's able to let her go

Maeve lyrics

I've been ghosting, I've been ghosting along Ghost in your house, ghost in your arms When you're tossing, when you turn in your sleep It's because I'm ghosting your dreams

Spencer lyrics

And this is why I have decided To pull these old white sheets from my head I'll leave them folded neat and tidy So that you'll know I'm out of hiding

Maeve lyrics I remember, I remember the days When I'd make you oh-so afraid And this is why I have decided To leave your house and home un-haunted You don't need poltergeists for sidekicks

Young Folks by Peter Bjorn and John

Spencer, post-prison and worried about his s/o knowing the truth about his life lyrics

If I told you things I did before Told you how I used to be Would you go along with someone like me? If you knew my story word for word Had all of my history Would you go along with someone like me?

S/o assuring him it doesn't matter to them lyrics

I would go along with someone like you It doesn't matter what you did Who you were hanging with We could stick around and see this night through

A healthy dose of Spencer-style insecurity and abandonment issues

Usually when things has gone this far People tend to disappear No one will surprise me unless you do

[cocosstories]

Henry Cavill One Shot

Hey! I had a request for henry cavill if that’s possible for you. I thought about something where reader is famous too and they are doing the game spill your guts together. They don’t really know each other but they kinda have a crush on each other. Can the reader be also younger than him like in her 20’s or something?

You were in the guest dressing room, getting ready for your appearance on James Corden.

Despite your better judgement, you had agreed to play his infamous game of 'Spill Your Guts Or Fill Your Guts', regretting the decision almost immediately when you hear that Henry Cavill will be playing with you.

For the last couple of years, you and Henry had crossed paths a few times, never really getting the chance to actually spend any sort of time together with your busy schedules.

If you had to be honest though, you always had somewhat of a crush on him and were a little bummed that you have never actually got the chance to meet him.

As the show began, more nerves crept up and before you knew it, you were being warned that it was almost time to join Henry and James on stage for the game.

"Welcome back everyone. Now Henry we are going to play a game but I think we need to bring a special guest out to make it a little more fun so ladies and gentlemen please welcome Y/F/N Y/L/N!"

James introduces you and you walk out, joining the two men at the table that has an interesting odor coming from it. 

You give James a quick hug before turning to Henry who is smiling brightly at you. 

He goes in for a hug as well and you take in his cologne for a second before you remember you are on national TV and back away a bit. 

"So Henry you will ask me questions, Y/N will ask Henry and I will ask Y/N. Lets see what foods we will have to eat if we choose not to answer."

James explains the rules as you stare down at the extremely unsatisfying looking 'food' in front of you. 

"We have bird saliva, cow tongue, bull penis, grasshoppers, salmon smoothie, 1000 year old egg, calf's brain and cod sperm."

You, Henry and the audience let out a collective, disgusted groan with each new food he says.

"Alright, Y/N, I am going to ask you the first question. So I am going to give you the bull penis."

James says, turning the table so the dish was in front of you. 

"I mean you could have given me worse I guess."

You say looking down at the bowl in front of you.

"Y/N, out of all of the movies you've done, which one was the worst?"

Laughs come from James as he asks the question while the audience lets out a chorus of 'oohhs'

You think about the question for a moment, trying to decide if it is worth risking your career to answer it so you don't have to chew on bull penis. 

"I have an answer but I don't want to ruin any chances of working with certain people again so..."

You pick up a piece of the bull penis and take a deep breath before taking a bite.

"Oh my god."

You say, quickly grabbing the spit bucket. 

"Its so chewy."

After taking a sip of water, you compose yourself and look at the table trying to decide what to give to Henry.

"So, Y/N, what will you be giving to Superman?"

James asks with a smirk. 

"Be nice, please."

Henry chuckles. 

"Well, I've seen your Instagram and you seem to like to eat healthy so you know what? I'm going to give you the Salmon smoothie."

The audience laughs as you turn the table so the pink sludge is in front of Henry who looks like he might want to kill you for it. 

You pick up the card and giggle a little bit. 

"Henry, rate your last three girlfriends from best to worst."

The audience laughs as Henry looks at you with a slight but joking glare. 

"Hey, this is James' show! I didn't write the questions!"

You say looking to James.

Henry takes the glass and closes his eyes before taking a big drink then almost immediately spits it into the bucket. 

After taking a few seconds to recover, Henry looks at James before choosing the worst possible choice on the table for him, finally deciding on the bird saliva. 

"James,  what celebrity have you turned down for carpool karaoke and why?"

Without even a thought, James picks up the martini glass and takes a swig of the cloudy liquid as you and Henry both gag for him.

James regains his composure once he spits into the bucket and takes multiple drinks of water and picks your next food. 

"Cod sperm, I think."

The grin on his face was almost devilish. 

"I mean you already gave me bull penis so why not keep the theme alive."

You shrug trying to play off how grossed out you were. 

"Ooohhh, Y/N, would you rather score a date with Captain America or Superman?"

He asks and you look at him shocked.

"You're really going to out me on the spot like that, James? I feel like since I am a part of Marvel, I have to pick Cap but I mean Henry is right here so that would be rude not to pick him."

You say, trying to figure out what to say. 

"It's ok love, you can pick Captain America. No hard feelings."

Henry says sweetly trying to help you make the choice as the audience swoons. 

"Well alright then. Cap is my man."

You laugh then begin looking at what was left on the table. 

"Ok Henry, I'm going to be nice and give you the crickets. I hear they are a delicacy in some parts of the world."

You give him a cute wink as you spin the table then pick up the next card. 

"Would you like to go on a da-"

You stop as you read the last part of the question to yourself then look up to James and shake your head.

"What? What does it say? Read the question."

James asks with a knowing smirk. 

"No, I can't read this!"

You refuse. 

"It's ok, you can read it. I don't mind."

Henry says, urging you on and you shake your head again. 

James finally reaches over and takes the card from you. 

"I'll read it. Henry, would you like to go out on a date with Y/N?"

The audience gasps as you look down at your hands. 

Henry blushes a bit and smiles. 

"I would love to."

You look up at him quickly, almost in shock at his answer. 

"Well, that was our first ever love connection on Spill Your Guts Or Fill Your Guts! Stick around and we will be right back with Y/F/N Y/L/N after the break!"

The show goes to commercial and the stage hands begin to clear the set. 

"Why did you say yes?"

You ask Henry, thinking he was just trying to be a good sport for the game and play along with James' crazy antics. 

"Because, I've been wanting to ask you out for the longest time and never had the chance before."

He admits and you feel your heart begin to pound. 

"Really?"

Was all you could manage to get out and Henry chuckles.

"Really. So, after the show? Maybe we can grab a late dinner?"

Henry takes your hand in his with a hopeful smile. 

"That sounds great."

You reply just as you are told the commercial break was about to end and are led up on stage to join James for your segment while Henry heads backstage to figure out where to take you on your first date. 

[ddarker-dreams]

Hello! I really REALLY like your writing!! I keep coming back to re-read them. This is the first time I've sent an ask/ request on tumblr 😅 So what would Yan!Childe do with a darling who is equally competitive as him but only sees him as a sparring partner and nothing more? It doesn't faze darling that he's a fatui or a harbinger. Just a strong opponent to defeat. Thank you and stay safe! <3

Warnings: Blood mention, slight suggestive implications, and unhealthy yandere themes.  Note: i’m working on some stuff so this felt like a perfect writing warmup opportunity!! i styled it as an interaction, i hope you don’t mind. thank you for enjoying my writing ahhh <33 knowing you come back to reread it makes me happy! 💖

You learn a lot about someone from how they fight. 

In fact, you’d go so far as to say you don’t truly know a person until you’ve seen them in action, their life on the line. Do they fight with honor? Holding their word until they draw their final breath? Or are they more of a trickster, abusing every opening that comes their way, for the sake of winning? 

Tartaglia, the 11th of the Eleven Fatui Harbingers, is an entirely new category of his own design.

He looks up at you, tousled hair obscuring his wicked eyes. When you dare gaze into them, you don’t see anything resembling human warmth, only pure excitement. The thrill of battle. The pleasure of risking your all for an adrenaline rush. Your chest is heaving for air, but he’s in far worse shape, no matter how hard he tries to hide it with forced nonchalance. The tip of your blade hovers threateningly over his pounding heart. 

“Tell me,” you manage in between strained pants, “Why are you such a plague on my life?” 

Childe smiles sweetly and you tighten your grip on the hilt of your blade. 

“Why, you ask?” He muses, as if the thought had never occurred to him until now. Your eyes narrow. Threateningly, you ease your blade forward, the tip just scraping his glistening skin. Childe doesn’t so much as flinch at your unspoken challenge. Instead, he bites his bottom lip to contain himself, pupils dilating.

His gloved hand lashes out, palm wrapping around your blade to prevent it from inflicting a mortal wound.

“I wanted to see you just like this,” he shivers at your bewildered expression, drinking it in like you were the finest piece of art to ever exist. “I never understood why you’d hold back in our little spats… so, I thought to myself, why not give you some extra motivation?” 

Your lips part, fully intending on demanding a better explanation than that, but the chance never comes. Childe takes advantage of your stupefied state to change the tides. He lifts his legs in a flash, securing them around your neck, then slams you onto the ground with unrivaled force. You reach for your weapon out of instinct, only for him to hold your wrists above your head in a tight grip. 

Childe holds you down using his own body weight, surprisingly heavy for how lithe his figure appears. 

He examines the open wound on his hand with keen interest. “How worth it all that effort was! You’ve given me quite a thrill. It’s been a long time since my heart has beat this fast.”  

You shiver when his inhumane eyes flicker from the cut on his hand back to you, glaring up at him with all your strength. The more you struggle the more energy you’ll lose, you reason, so you decide to wait for an opening as he did. In terms of raw physical strength, you’re unfortunately at a disadvantage. 

“Now,” he runs the tip of his tongue over the cut, maintaining eye contact as he does so. “Surrender, and well… I promise I’ll be a little gentle.” 

[yannowhatigiveup]

A Blinded Kiss

I haven’t posted anything recently so I dug around in my WIPs to see if anything was even worth posting and I found this that I made a while ago. It certainly isn’t the best but it isn’t the worst out of all my other WIPs.

"Is this really necessary?" The bluenette asked, eyeing a blindfold given by her brotherly figure.

"Of course it is Pixie!" An older man with two-toned hair replied, way too over enthusiastic about the whole situation. "It's a great way to find your way around the manor”

"And it's a great family bonding experience too!" Another man in the room replied, even more enthusiastic than the first.

"Fine, I'll do it Jay" the blue-eyed girl huffed, twirling the blindfold between her fingers. "What are the rules again, Dick?"

Dick beamed at the girl before answering. "Well Mari, it's simple. Put the blindfold on, count to fifty, spin around and try to steal a hug from anyone in the manor"

"So I have to walk around the manor blindfolded and try to sneak up on you? You know that's impossible!" Marinette exclaimed, she would not go around the house looking like a touch-starved fool.

"That's exactly why we're doing it" Jason replied, shrugging his shoulders. "It'll last a long time."

After a few seconds, the blue-eyed girl sighed, giving in to both Jason and Dick. "Fine, if that's what makes you happy" Marinette wrapped the matte-black fabric tightly around her eyes, already struggling within the first few seconds. She began counting and she heard the two scuffling away, smiling while being able to tell which direction they went in. In the mean time, Marinette debated her options.

'Both Jason and Dick would be the ideal choices but they'll be able to hear me from a mile away. Tim would be the most logical one since he's half asleep, but where does he even go in this maze? God knows where Alfred is, Mr Wayne is scary. Damian-' She paused her train of thoughts, granted Marinette had only met him a few days ago but that didn't stop the crush she had heavily try to cease. 'He'd probably hear me from a mile away as well. This game is so unfair'

Soon enough, Marinette reached fifty and spun herself around, she used a bit too much force than needed so now not only was she blinded but she lost her sense of direction. Giving herself a minute to recover, the bluenette began to walk. Using her improved senses, thanks to the miraculous, Mari was slowly able to create a theoretical map in her mind, though it did take much more energy than she desired.

"Fighting an akuma is easier than this" The bluenette muttered as she hit her thigh along the corner of a wall.

Even though she was using her enhanced abilities, she'd pump into a corner or a wall every now and again, the amount of times increased when her energy was being used. After wondering a hall for what seemed like hours, the bluenette came to a staircase, one that she ever so carefully used to get to a higher floor. Once she did, she kept a hand on one of the walls, using it as a guide. Soon enough, her hand came to what felt like a doorframe. The door was closed she could tell but it was recent used due to the fact that the doorknob was warm. Making sure not to intrude, she knocked on said door, she almost missed the muffled 'come in' had she not been paying attention. Marinette opened the door, went in and quickly shut it behind her, taking a deep breath.

"Okay I hope you don't mind but which room is this and whose in the room? Dick and Jason thought it would be a good idea to walk around the manor blindfolded while trying to sneak up on them" The bluenette huffed, only to freeze when she heard a familiar chuckle.

"I've heard, you're in my room, It's Damian just to clarify" 'Sh-' "So, what task must be fulfilled to give you permission to take the blindfold off? I doubt you want to keep it on any longer" Marinette giggled.

"You're right, I would probably get lost of I continue. Um, I have to 'steal a hug' apparently"

"So you have to hug someone without them inspecting it" Damian came to that conclusion to which the bluenette nodded her head.

"Yeah that's basically it, hey do you have anywhere I could sit down? I'm getting tired..."

"Of course, my bed is five steps to your front and two steps to your right, make yourself comfortable" She wasn't sure how red she had gotten but she obliged anyway. Had she not been wearing the blindfold, she would've seen Damian smiling at her flustered state. Giving herself a moment to regain her energy, Marinette turned to where she presumed Damian was working at his desk. "Can I hug you? Jay never said I couldn't ask the person first. I-I won't if you don't want me to! I just wanted to ask so..."

She heard the boy thoughtfully hum before he made his way over to her. From what she could tell, Damian was now in front of Marinette, looming over her.

"Did Todd or Grayson say it had to be a hug?" Marinette tilted her head in confusion and thoughtfulness, that had never crossed her mind before.

"W-"

"What happens if I kiss you instead?"

The bluenette didn’t reply with words as she knew how terrible her words would be in her flustered state. But she wanted this, her heart longed for it in a way it never did for anyone else. Instead, she nodded, giving the green-eyed boy permission to do as he wished.

She felt his hand lightly tilt her chin up towards, where she presumed, his face was. Then he pressed his lips onto hers, his other had behind her head, tugging at the fabric around her eyes. Marinette felt bliss, she was glad that no one else would interrupt this moment. Shivers went down her spine as she felt Damian’s hands travel up from behind her neck and to wear the blindfold was knotted, gently tugging at the binding. She was glad that when her face was free from the fabric that comprised her vision, the first thing in her line of eyesight were Damian's deep emerald eyes, the shimmered the same way they had when she first laid eyes on him, she'd been enraptured ever since. The boy, however, was smirking as he noticed the pink that dusted her face. Without a moment passing, she threw herself the green-eyed boy, delivering a hug. As she pulled away, her hands cupped his face and she returned his embrace with one of her own. When she pulled away once more, she smiled in satisfaction at his flustered expression.

"When did you realise you had feelings for me?" Marinette asked softly, her forehead pressed against his trying to regain her breath.

"That's a very easy question" Damian stared lovingly into her eyes. "I fell the moment I saw you take down that Akuma three times your size" Her eyes widened.

"You know about me being Ladybug?"

"The same way you know I'm Robin"

They both smiled, creating a truce to not reveal anything.

"Well I better get going, see you later." She got up from the bed and opened the door, only to turn around and say "Je t'aime mon cœur" before exiting the room, leaving a blushing Damian.

Marinette walked back down the stairs, the piece of cloth in hand and small love-struck smile on her face. When she entered the main living room, she came face to face with the owner of the manor.

"Oh hello Mr Wayne"

"Hello Marinette, I see you managed to get the blindfold off" The older man gestured towards the piece of fabric in her hand. "And please, do call me Bruce. Who did you end up surprising with a hug then?"

She smiled brightly before replying. "Damian"

His usual formal demeanor broke for a moment but Bruce quickly picked the pieces back up. "He didn't attack you or injure you in any shape or form?"

Marinette decided to play the oblivious little girl. "No..? Why, does he do it often?" Her head titled in confusion.

"Nothing it doesn't matter" Bruce simply sighed and shook his head. "Also, there's something I'd like to discuss with you at dinner, if you don't mind"

"No not at all, I'll see you at dinner then?" Bruce nodded and left, leaving Marinette alone in the room, waiting for her honorary older brother and his brother to come in. Which they did but only after some time, it was hilarious to see them crouched down, talking to each other in hushed voices. They flinched as she cleared her throat, both slowly turning towards the sound to find a smug looking Marinette and a blindfold whipped around her finger.

"I win"

~~~

Most of the occupants at the table were either in an all out war or were about to be, except for Marinette and an exasperated Bruce Wayne.

"So Marinette" The eldest Wayne began, silencing the rest of the table. "I hope you don't mind me asking but when you were off searching for Jason, you mentioned attacks that have been occurring in Paris, is this true?"

No one failed to notice the girl flinch. "Yeah it's true"

"...how bad are the attacks? In your opinion"

"Well it depends on how strong the person's emotions are really. If their emotions are strong, then the Akuma is strong too"

"What's the strongest akuma that Paris has seen?" It was Tim who asked and memories of the event began swimming through her mind, she got rid of them with a shake of her head.

"The deadliest akuma Paris has experienced was an akuma called 'Syren'. She's a regular person but, as an akuma, she managed to kill around 2 million people. But don't worry! Ladybug's cure managed to bring them back to life"

"D-did... did you die, Pixie?" Jason asked, his anger mixed with worry was boiling over and luckily simmered after seeing her shake her head.

"Do you think the heroes of Paris would let heroes from the Justice League come over to help?"

Marinette contemplated for a moment, should she really risk the heroes getting akumatized? "I think they would but I wouldn't know"

Bruce nodded while Jason leaned over the table to talk closer to his honorary little-sister. "Why didn't you tell me sooner?"

"I didn't want to bother you"

"You're not a bother, Pixie" Jason smiled at the bluenette on the other side of the table. "You never are and you never will be"

~~~

Marinette returned to Paris a few days later, in the mean time, Bruce and the rest of the batfam were planning their visit to the City of Love. Soon enough, the vigilantes were boarded on the plane. Their flight to Paris was relatively silent. After a few hours, they landed and the vigilantes waited on the Eiffel Tower, only to find out there was a battle going on. Before they could engage in the fight, they were engulfed with magical ladybugs that seemed to fix anything destroyed. As they were mesmerized by the cure, a certain spotted-heroine wobbly landed on the platform. Batman was first to notice.

"Ladybug" His voice caused the others to turn around. "Thank you for allowing us into your city"

Ladybug nodded, not uttering a single word.

"We were hoping, with your permission of course, that we could help you be rid of Hawkmoth once and for good" Again, Ladybug didn't reply. "Ladybug?"

When the heroine didn't respond, Batman glanced at Nightwing and the rest of his sons, clearly something was wrong. Unexpectedly, Robin took his glove off, approached the Ladybug-themed hero and placed his hand onto her forehead.

"You have a fever" he stated, his hand trailing down her face to cup her cheek. His family all shot him weird looks. She tiredly blinked at the vigilante, recognising him as Robin and allowed herself to fall into his arms, detransforming while doing so, leaving a burning hot Marinette.

"Dami?" He hummed. "Take me home, please..." She drifted off to sleep, comforted in her lover's arms. He glanced at his family, holding the bluenette close.

"Pixie...is Ladybug?" Red Hood's voice was first.

"You didn't know?" Robin's voice mocking confusion, enraging Red Hood that his youngest brother knew something about his sister that he didn't. Even more so that his demon brother was holding said sister,

"We should take her back home" Dick went over to feel the girl's forehead. "She's burning"

"Tikki?" Robin asked and a red creature flew out from one of Mari's pockets, startling most of the people there.

"I'll try to heal her on the way, follow me"

The floating red creature flew down from the Eiffel Tower, Robin and Marinette close behind. After some hesitation, the others followed, they ended up on top of a bakery. One by one, they entered through the trapdoor on the balcony, finding both Damian with his mask off and a weak looking Marinette. Despite her enfeebled state, the bluenette greeted each vigilante, her gaze landed on Jason.

"It's just a fever, I'll be fine"

Jason removed his helmet and ran a hand through his hair before both settled on his hips. "You don't look fine"

"I promise I am" She wasn't convincing, not at all.

"Fine" Jason huffed, he could never truly say no to the girl he viewed as his little sister. "But since when were you two a thing" He pointed at the two, his gaze resting maliciously on Damian.

"It's all thanks to you, you know" Marinette smirked at Jason's confusion. Tim snickered as he seemed to catch on to what she was saying.

"Had you not organized that 'blindfolded game', I doubt we would be together at this moment" Damian supplied the information, clearly unfazed by the burning rage in the eyes of his older brother.

"Baby Bird's all grown up" The eldest Wayne son overdramatized wiping a fake tear, Batman sighed at his two eldest sons while pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Get your fucking hands off her, Demon Brat!" Jason tried to lunge at Damian, only to be stopped by both Dick and Tim. Though his fury only grew when Marinette snuggled closer to the green-eyed boy, both smirked in victory over Jason's horrified appearance.

Marinette was now part of the family in more ways than one. Though they wish they had found out in better circumstances, they would be able to take down Hawkmoth once and for all, side by side, all together. And to think this all happened because of a silly blindfold game.