#specifically remembered. they latch on my brain. thank fuck

[kaleschmidt]

bro it is not relevant to anything but i need u to know when u started bpd dave propaganda-ing u became like a celebrity to my friend group literally every time he started to lose a poll at least one person wld be like "we need tumblr user kaleschmidt to log on right now" and it was so fuxing funny . we lost the war but youre a hero

ASDFKJLALSDFJASLKDF???? I AM SO HONORED? I am so so so normal about bpd dave you would not believe how quickly i ran to find a bpd bracket once i saw pd brackets come up so i could submit dave to it. like that was MY time to dig up my playthroughs and fucking shine

i'm proud of dave getting as far as he did because. he went. again st. fucking bakugo...... that man was definitely able to put up a good fight against mondo + bakugo but also i think it would've been so funny if he got to semi-finals. woulda been a dream come true. also like i lowkey may or may not have tried to get my friends to vote too other than me periodically reblogging the post to get my followers to vote. it's the thought that counts

[vide0-nasties]

Going to be rambling insanely about Ghost and probably what his feelings on the monarchy would be, coming from one deeply damaged povo to another.

Anyway, specifically around the time the parasite in chief in her idiot hat (thanks Eccleston lub u) died and passed said idiot hat on, I was seeing a lot of (fun and gentle-ribbing, mind you!) posts about Ghost getting razzed about the queen croaking and maybe him being sad about it or something - I don’t really remember bc I have shit for brains and I just latch onto what bits my adhd will allow.

SO. I really don’t think Bruv Innit gave two shits about Liz buying the farm, bc he grew up working class in a working class town to a drug addicted, drug peddling dad, and a fairly nondescript mom who likely didn’t have a way to get her and her kids out of that shit situation (per ‘09 MW lore and some presumption). I imagine dude was dragged around a shitload of council estates and his dad’s friends’ shitty crash pads, no stability whatsoever, where food insecurity was a big ass forever-looming deal, mom had no idea if her 20 year old vauxhall was going to make it another trip to her minimum wage part time job, and school was forever on the back burner bc when it came to school supplies/trips vs eating and keeping the lights on. You can guess which one won.

If we’re also going with him being about 35-40ish, he would’ve been 10-12ish or so around Diana’s divorce and then her death. So, here’s this starving, horrendously abused kid, with his starving, horrendously abused mother and little brother, drowning in a system that is pretty much just letting them sink to the bottom, nothing is being done about the evil sperm donor that ruins everything for them, and he’s obliterated constantly by TV coverage and tabloids and radio DJs talking about this goddamned family’s stupid fucking drama. Charles cheated, Diana left, her poor boys in their fancy private schools with their endless wealth and glowing skin and brand new clothes that don’t stink of consignment shops are sad.

Sorrows - sorrows, prayers. 🫶

It’s a story he’s seen countless times, the only difference is money and coverage. And, realistically, the women in the stories he knows aren’t killed in car wrecks, they’re killed by their infuriated husbands who think they’re owed something catching up. Maybe that’s why his mom doesn’t leave the cocksucker that trapped her, she could’ve ended up another council house Diana that no one gave a shit about.

He grows up, becomes a butcher’s apprentice, joins the army. Straightens his brother out, makes sure his mom is set up nice, finally beats the shit out of his dad. And all the while, there looms the most fucking pointless, parasitic family in England: living off taxes taken from the public, god knows how much land and how many castles, even owning all the fucking swans on the island.

Relics, vampires, leeches.

But, you know, twenty years down the road, he’s pushing 40, his services to the country are done in the dark, the family he tried so badly to save were brutally cut down anyway, and when he goes to Tesco, the price of a fifth of piss Smirnoff is insane, and he’s still got Soap swimming in his head mid-rant bc his mam’s fucking knee replacement appeal has been denied for the third time and she can’t even walk anymore, Gaz is moving for the second time in a year bc he just can’t afford to live close to his parents even on his salary, meanwhile there was a stretch where it looked like Philip was surviving solely by being pumped full of virgin blood and straight stem cells.

So, yeah, if anything he probably said cheers when the news broke and cracked a couple extra jokes that day.

“What d’you call one dead Windsor? A good start.”

Edit: This is picking up some traction. @50cal-fullauto-astarion is my CoD blog if you like my Call of Bullshit stuff, this is my main and I don’t really go into CoD here

[kinaesthetiqueer]

You've more or less single-handedly altered my entire perception of Nora as a character, and I mean that in the best way possible, making me enjoy her so much more every time I rewatch RWBY (which I gotta do again at some point, but that's neither here nor there)

However! This leads to my question :3 I noticed you had a few fics about her, and that she's also a very present character in your brain space, I kinda wanna know more about Satya Vaswani (which I now know her name is!!! Which is so cool!!!) and specifically your thoughts about her, what about her appeals to you, basically sharing as much as you want to!

I had a mild overwatch phase some years ago, so I know some Basic lore, but I always love learning and hearing about people's favorite characters :3

Oki thank you byeeee!~

aksnskajdhskanjs WONDERFUL QUESTION AND THANK YOU THIS TOOK DAYS TO WRITE BUT IT WAS NICE TO BE REASSURED THAT I DO STILL LOVE HER (AND HER GIRLFRIENDS, BY PROXY).

quick psa below for anyone who follows me for overwatch; otherwise, you can skip to the blue text & read more for sym gushing

im gonna preface this by saying my knowledge of overwatch ends in about mid to late 2019, which is right around the time i finally and miserably acknowledged that i could no longer play sym in the game because i could not adjust to sym 3.0. (for context, when blizz announced her 3.0 rework in 2018, i crawled under my desk and cried; there are pictures). while i also played rein and lucio, my real joy was playing sym and once i could no longer do that, i basically stopped playing. i'm not good at fps. there's a lot going on. i scream a lot. i cannot aim. overwatch remains my first and only fps. i just couldn't handle letting my friends down as a bad support-turned-dps as i cannot aim (even though they insisted i did not let them down) plus eventually a lot of other folks stopped playing, i got busy, blizzard continued to suck ass, etc. sym 3.0 was a personal death knell for my SI in overwatch

SO the last thing i read was the bastet short story and the last new chara i cared about was baptiste. i got soured on the fandom and the shipping base and crawled out of it into a perfectly happy ot3 isolation bubble. i say all this NOT to sound unhappy about this question, but to set up for the single boundary that i MUST enforce when it comes to overwatch:

i do not want to know anything about ovw post 2019!

this may sound harsh but i don't care about overwatch lore anymore!this is simply to prevent my brain from just absolutely self-imploding. i have a clear and complete outline for the take to the skies series and i only care about that series (and the demons/witch au) and a few other things that ive written; i do not want to corrupt that. i've heard whispers about sym lore updates and im simply not engaging with that. i don't need to know nor do i want to! thank you, good night! i'm content to willingly live in denial.

you see, my satya "symmetra" vaswani lives safe and sound in my brain. blizz can't touch her.

satya vaswani, also known as symmetra to her teammates and also her enemies, is a character near and dear to my heart! i knew nothing about her until i stumbled upon the fact that she was intentionally written as autistic. this was at a time in my life where i had recently discovered i was too, in a fun (not) series of events, and so i latched on immediately, not to mention when i started playing her, i found a niche and became a rather successful sym (which to me means being helpful, getting kills, STAYING ON THE FUCKING POINT, and not getting in the way). i don't remember what my hours ended up being on her but im pretty sure it was well over 100 and since the servers are gone??? i'll never know? im not downloading ovw 2 to find out. it's probably on my old blog. GAH. im not here to be be salty about blizz.

SATYA.

satya, much like nora, is a side[ish] character that i have taken every scrap of canon lore and extrapolated to the stratosphere. i acknowledge that i have surpassed canon and inserted my own, especially when it comes to her childhood.

that being said

here's canon:

After she was identified as one of the few capable of becoming a light-bending architech, young Satya Vaswani was plucked from extreme poverty and placed in the care of Vishkar's architech academy, never to return home. Isolated and lonely in her new life, Satya immersed herself in her education and training. She quickly grasped the applications of the technology and was one of the top students in her class. Satya approached hard-light manipulation differently than her peers, with their more procedural, mechanical constructions, instead weaving her constructs in the motions of the traditional dance of her homeland.

and then i, to recap practical ghosts to some extent, made it worse. she was singled out for a scholarship by the vishkar academies who intentionally sought out young kids with high compatibility with hard light tech. she has an older brother aditya and a younger brother krishna and her mom karishma. her father died when she was three; she is, at the time of pick up, eight.

she's taken away to the fledgling vishkar town of utopaea where she atends the prestigious vishkar dawn academy boarding school. fairly quickly she takes to HL. it just makes sense to her and she loves it! never mind that she's without her support net for the first time ever. higher up staff order her teachers to excuse her 'problematic' behaviour because they don't wan to damage the prodigy in the making. her mother fights to have satya come home regularly and succeeds in making sure she gets to visit. the higher up staff even court these wishes, hoping that karishma will see the good in vishkar's training and ABA therapy but satya's mom sees her daughter's personality changes and misery and the way she talks about her autism now, the bullying she receives from both adults and students, the way she only seems to focus on architecture. she doesn't like it one bit. and after four years of this back and forth fight between vishkar execs and karishma over the 'budding jewel' of vishkar, karishma finally finds another school closer to home and begins to make moves to take satya out of vishkar academy at the end of the school year.

in response, vishkar ensures that satya has no family left to go home to. they also make sure that not only it looks like an accident but a specific architectural failure that galvanizes satya's single track minded drive to make the world a better place in which no one ever loses their family to a building collapse again. she becomes a ward of vishkar through a series of legal dominos vishkar had in place; she's only twelve. she never finds out that vishkar is the one who killed her family (except for in this little riff i did on twitter that may or may not load). ALSO funny that i named it indomitable, bc i didn't know what rwby was when i wrote that XD. anyways i have all my tweets downloaded but it's not that important.

practical ghosts is a fun narrative because it's told completely outside of satya through documents about her (with the exception of three little chapters at the end, only one of which is from her POV) it's my fave of my satya vent fics. PG is in line with on the run from tomorrow and thursday's daughter's genre of 'no one asked me to go this deep with canon plausible backstory but i did anyway!'

satya NOW though. she comes to the watchpoint, essentially surrendering her vishkar insider info in return for asylum, and proceeds to have the meltdown of a lifetime the second no eyes are on her. she throws herself into discovering how much of her life is a lie (her first comic, where she begins wondering, inspires much of this, as it obvs happens before; while i have read her 2020 comic, i don't use it at all except to smile because it did not contradict my HCs or if it did i ignored it; i was made vaguely aware against my will that she has history with LW but again, i don't care)

she's sassy, she's deadpan, she's devoted, she's practical. she loves dance and cooking and all forms of gymnastics, skating, and ribbon arts. she'll take you to task for doing stupid shit and explain how you should fix it in the same breath. she's ruthless when it comes to making other's take care of themselves. she's harder on herself than anyone else dares to be. she likes birds. she likes making new ways to stim that aren't obvious. she has reclaimed her arm and her relationship with it. she's done an absolutely stellar job of reinventing herself in the wake of everything she's done and been involved with. she's taken all of vishkar's tech and made it better and more accessible. she prefers rebuilding missions more than combat ones. she loves drinking tea with ana. mei was her first human friend outside of vishkar; athena was her first friend at the watchpoint. her and lucio actually get along fine eventually. she is fearlessly devoted to those she loves. she's an early riser and early sleeper. she still cries sometimes when she allows herself to stim unhindered. she is a huge fucking demiace lesbian. she doesn't give a fuck about gender. she wears heels so she can discretely toe-walk and dresses because they're easy to move in. she can and will talk your ear off about her special interests but only if she loves you.

NONE OF THIS IS CANON

last i checked in canon, and based on voicelines, satya hasn't even LEFT vishkar. she's just doubting. she's still there under their thumb and i mean sure yeah that's fine but that was the great of overwatch HUGE sandbox, no plot, WOMEN, and oh my gods an autistic woman of color with the most wonderful voice and voice actor ever (hi ms bhimani i hope you're having a LOVELY day)

i took to sym because i wanted a more hopeful future for myself and i am awaaaaaaaare ive projected on her very hard but i gotta admit the fact that i turn 28 (her age) this year might have actually just made me grin like an idiot because oh my god i could NOT imagine that when i first got into overwatch in early 2017. jesus fuck i was twenty, i could barely see past my own nose. i REMEMBER tho, being like heeheehoohoo one day i'll be satya's age that'll be wild. complete hypothetical. ANYWAYS

i don't think im really answering the question here.

haven't even got to my favorite fuckin head canon. i SCREAAAAAAMED SO LOUD when i realized this. fuckiing rip to my friends bc i was in game and i was playing with a skin i had just unlocked and i noticed something incredible-

satya has a prosthetic left arm. she has two skins though where she looks more like she's wearing a school uniform. i think they're called architech and utopaea? but hey. hey. hey you know what she doesn't have in those skins?

her prosthetic.

SO. my second saddest and most favorite headcanon is that as an 18th birthday gift, when satya technically became an adult and thus could leave vishkar, vishkar offered her a choice. to quote 'nothing here to run from':

Just shy of her Academy graduation ceremony, an offer was made to officially cement her place in the Vishkar Corporation. “We only offer to the best and the brightest, Satya,” Sanjay had said, grasping her left hand in his right. “Wouldn’t you love to be the perfect architech, ready to change the world at a moment’s notice?” By the time she was eighteen, Symmetra only had room for perfection.

BECAUSE YEAH

i heavily headcanon vishkar to be just as bad as talon, since they are heavily intertwined. i would not put it past them.

so yeah, heavy heavy heavy disclaimer that i love satya 'symmetra' vaswani a normal amount but due to the inherent need to extrapolate a million things from a game that initially had three rubber bands and a paper clip worth of lore for her, i humbly recognize that the version of her that i love does only live in my head. and im okay with that!!!! but i love her canon self too, otherwise i would have never gone so feral about her to write over like 100k of her being loved, growing, living and learning!!!!!!!!!!!!!! gods i need to write her again.

also she has the best skins in the fucking gaaaaaaame she's so pretty and i am GAY

[protobeeswarm]

Writing college essays is so hard because like, anything between 2019 to 2022 is a blur because COVID, anything before that and after like, 2016 I *remember vaguely* and am unable to give specific details on (thanks depression memory issues) and prior to that is pretty fucking blank because of memories being made unavailable to me as a response to emotional and mental trauma/neglect, and what memories I do have I'm not sure if they're actually mine or if they're replacements my brain made up for me based on stories I was told by my parents and family.

Anyway yeah, shit's hard. I latched onto the single thing that I'm actually certain happened and that I'm pretty sure does really well what I need a college essay to do.

So yeah, don't fuck your kids up with emotional and mental abuse/neglect, here's an unconventional way that it fucks them up in the future :).

[meshkol]

Do you mind if I ask your top 10 favorite characters (can be male or female) from all of the media that you loved (can be anime, books, movies or tv series)? And why do you love them? Thanks....

Hello there! I absolutely don't mind this question. I love this question, actually, and I've never...actually answered it before, at least not on this blog in an open forum with all my favourites. So this is actually cool and made my brain go oooooooooooooh. Thank you so much for this ask <3

I've answered this briefly on fandoms and faves, specifically just listing them by names, but haven't really gone into why I love these disasters, mostly because I'm long-winded af and English isn't my first language. This is the tip of the iceberg and do not include real-world individuals (that would have to be a different post entirely). Anywho, here goes, I suppose, and I apologise in advance for the length LMAO. Seriously, this is, like, 5k. (It’s also formatted weird because tumblr doesn’t like paragraphs in bullets, but it still looks a little wonky to me??)

Anyway, here are my ten favourite fictional characters and why I love them, in order. Actual content is beneath the cut because it is long.

(1) Thranduil Oropherion [Tolkien's Legendarium]. My first introduction into English was Tolkien's Legendarium. I had read The Silmarillion, The Hobbit, and The Lord of the Rings in French and had them read to me as a bedtime story before I could even read myself, but it was literally the first series of books I picked up myself when I was a tiny little thing and was like “I’m gonna figure out what all of these weird little letters mean in this weird bizarre language so I can read it in its intended language by Professor Tolkien!” So yeah, literally my first introduction into English, before I was put into official tutoring, because I was so hyperfixated by this legendarium. This fandom is still my One True Fandom to this day.

The Sindar in general were my main focus of study and fixation, even though Tolkien had a gigantic hard-on for the Ñoldor (literally and figuratively, probably, considering Galadriel, but I digress), and even though Thranduil wasn’t even named in The Hobbit, I distinctly remember tunnelling on his parts as a toddler who couldn’t even fucking read yet and asking to hear his portions of the story instead of the dwarrows. He is the sole reason why I hyperfixated on the Sindar despite the criminal lack of content on their kind, and why I started to learn English long before I was required to do so for education’s sake.

He was just so kind and generous and understanding and brave and wary and tired and strong – nothing like what the films did to his character, don’t get me fucking started on that utter rot, the films did Thranduil dirty...though Lee Pace played him dishy af and I still enjoy the films as a separate entity from the books, kind of like how enjoy the MCU as a separate entity from the comics – and I needed that in my life. The elves in general were those things, but Thranduil was my first introduction to that, and he was a hell of a first imprint to my young, impressionable mind, especially in the environment I grew up in. I needed a father like he was, who was kind and generous and understanding and brave and wary and tired and strong, not the father I had, which was pretty much every other father Tolkien described in the books lol. I latched onto him to an almost extreme amount of insanity and that has persisted to this day. I love him so much that it’s damn near pathetic. You don’t see it much on this blog but whew, on my other blog(s) back before LiveJournal, FFN, and the overall internet imploded?? Yeah, it was nuts. So much fanfiction, I swear. Probably published about two to three million words before the purges on private servers and LJ. I will never stop being bitter and devastated about that. ao3 is king, all hail ao3.

(2) Tony Stark [Marvel]. So there’s a lot to say about this disaster of a human being and I don’t even know where to start, because there’s a lot of baggage associated with the beginning of my love for him.

There’s an echo of my English beginnings with him too, since I practised my English with those comics, and that’s tinged with some bittersweetness too. So for some background that is open knowledge on this blog: I hate my biological father with a burning passion. He’s an awful person and I hope he fucking dies a horrible, painful, awful, embarrassingly humiliating death. But weirdly enough, despite the extreme conservative household he ruled over with an iron fist, he...liked comics?? He hated that I loved Tolkien – my maman, before they got divorced, read those stories to me – but when he realised I was beginning to read things in English, something that was heavily encouraged in our household because "English is business" as he liked to say, he actually would give me Iron Man comics to practise reading with. Not Batman and Superman and Captain America (he hated Captain America LOL the height of irony) and Spider-Man, but Iron Man, a C-list-at-best superhero. It was probably because Tony was a billionaire industrialist who saved the world and my father was gamely ignoring the multitude of issues Tony has, but whatever, I latched onto Tony like a leech nonetheless because of those multitudes of issues Tony has.

I think my father liked to think that he either was similar to Tony or could be like Tony one day – they were both businessmen, after all, and were both outwardly pompous pricks to the public. My father was very pleased when I adored Iron Man/Tony Stark and clearly expected that I would start being amendable to him because of that adoration, except I started waxing poetry about how Tony was so much more than those surface-level masks. He was complex, and full of survivor’s guilt and just plain-old-guilt, and hated his father, and loved so deeply, and cared so deeply, and wanted to change the world for the better instead of destroying it, and he was a socialist, and he believed in women’s rights and was probably bisexual and got pegged by Gamora and-and-and—

Yeah, my father didn’t like Tony Stark very much longer LOL, especially once I got old enough to understand what socialism really was. Worked out for me because I got to nick all of his comics when he tossed them all out in a rage, and a lot of them are worth loads of money now that the MCU is a thing. But anyway.

It's kind of funny, actually, especially since I’m taking something that my biological father weirdly enjoyed despite his extreme conservative puratism and writing extreme BDSM porn about it all the time. I find it very therapeutic and a fun little Fuck You™. What can I say, I’m a spiteful queer. <3

But anyway, I really love Tony for a lot of different reasons, even if the origins for it are a little bittersweet and come from a place of spite lol. He’s just...very complex and I just feel him on a very deep, personal level. Tony is the only character on this list that I can empathise and sympathise with on almost every aspect of his person: he had a horrible and abusive father, had problems with drugs and alcohol, has crippling self-doubt and anxiety, is almost certainly neurodivergent, masks on a daily basis, deals with survivor’s guilt, etc-etc. The only thing that I can’t empathise with is the liking-vagina thing (I am way too queer for that sort of thing haha, though I’d be alright with a woman if she had a prick, hence why I identify as ‘queer’ instead of ‘gay’; trans and NB people are sexy af) and the RT (arc reactor for you MCU fans), but then again, half of my rib cage is metal and my leg is full of pins so...meh??

(3) Hatake Kakashi [Naruto]. My first real introduction into Japanese fandom lmao. My brother and I had watched Dragon Ball with a few classmates but outside of that, I’d had no real exposure to anime or manga because my father banned that sort of thing from the household, and I’m too old for what the younger kids these days are exposed to, like ATLA and Yu-Gi-Oh and all that. I ended up getting a translated sub of the Naruto anime from someone online when I was in university, watched it for the lulz, and ended up tunnelling on the weird half-masked dude who went batshit when his lil baby students were threatened. As you do.

Another one of those events where my lovely little ND brain went nuts. By the time that I had discovered the fandom, Shippūden was just starting to air, but I am incredibly impatient, hate filler episodes, and also hate American puritan bullshit, so I just...decided to scoff the anime and read the manga instead because I read faster plus new languages! Didn’t really anticipate how hard Japanese is though LMAO. Mercifully, translations come out pretty quickly, but I still sort of threw myself into language courses and study and so this fandom is sort of credited for me learning a new language. Can’t really speak it very well, since I never bothered to focus on that avenue and I still haven’t watched the anime haha, but I can read it (albeit with the occasional glance at unfamiliar kanji when I come across it, cos there’s a lot of fuckin kanji holy shit) very well. Language is weird.

Anyway. Kakashi is just awesome and gives off lazy does-not-give-a-fuck energy until someone fucks with his peeps, in which he goes to 9,000 in about half a second flat and decimates everything that moves. And I think that’s very sexy of him. I also have a thing for angst and tortured backstories, in case that wasn’t completely fucking obvious by my everything, so when I tunnelled on him within the first six seconds of watching that first episode and began researching his character, obviously I was like, “Ah shit, this one is gonna be fascinating to read and write fic for, think of all the whump possibilities.” Especially in the Naruto universe, where they send literal toddlers to war, which is batshit crazy and fucking nuts to the extreme – to be able to dig into that sort of worldbuilding and find out how characters would adapt, grow, and develop resilience in that sort of environment is like crack to an angst and smut demon like me, and combined with a backstory like Hatake Kakashi (and Uchiha Itachi, who’s coming up soon enough)?? Yeah, it was inevitable.

Doesn’t exactly help that he also gives of hurt/comfort vibes with all his charges too, and I also tend to gravitate towards those types of characters just as much as ethically grey but morally good characters and/or people with fucked-up backstories. You combine all the above with an aesthetically attractive character and you’ve got yourself a real winner lmao. I’m predictable af.

(4) L Lawliet [Death Note]. L is batshit nuts, let’s just throw that out there early. The manga and manga had been released fully by the time I had registered its existence and, if I recall correctly, I had only picked it up because I saw a piece of fanart on tumblr back in...shit, it must’ve been late 2009, since I started writing my first DN fic after the new year and published the first chapter soon after (that remains my most reviewed fic to date by an obscene amount lmao; don’t even look or check reviews anymore because I’m old and bitter now, but ten+ years ago?? That sweet, sweet validation before fandom imploded and ao3 sprung into existence out of pure necessity and self-preservation by fandom?? Yeah, that was a hell of a time to be alive).

Saw a creepy-looking, but also paradoxically attractive-looking frog man eating sugar cubes and cake like it was covered in bacteria in a ridiculously well-done piece of fanart circulated on the wild-wild-west tumblr, because I’ve been on this hellsite since forever on various blogs (and I’m never fucking leaving it, no matter how hard staff tries to implode it or how many pricks inhabit it, fuck you staff and pornbots and gay-men fetishisers who flood my ask box asking for nudes and shit, go get a therapist). Anyway, as a person who went to school for a stupidly long period of time hyperfixating on parasites, infectious diseases, and pathogens, and how human beings act and respond to said things, I immediately was like, “Oooh, frog man looks like he’s got germaphobia, that sounds like something that is aligned with my interests, what’s this from??”

Did a cursory search and here lies a fandom of a psycho teenager with a g-d complex who quickly enters university (because I generally do not fuck around with secondary school shit, that squicks me out hardcore) after finding a magical notebook that just straight up murders motherfuckers, who is being hunted by a mid-twenties detective who does have germaphobia and autism (like me!) and probably scoptophobia and is probably riding the line of ethical legality with his investigation practises, and oops, looks like I’ve entered Death Note hell.

Like I said, I like ethically grey characters with a firmly good moral code, and L’s doubly interesting because he’s an orphan with a semi-established backstory, which means that you can take liberties with his character to flesh it out to your whims. Which I did. A lot. With a lot of angst and gay, because obviously. There isn’t anything too deep about why I love him like the other three, and there’s probably a lot of fanon and headcanon interpretation that colours why I love him as much as I do, but that’s about the extent of it. I think of L Lawliet and I think of my mammoth story I wrote for him, and all of the love I received for that story, and during a time when fandom was going through a massive upheaval, it was a bright point that I really needed.

(5) Uchiha Itachi [Naruto]. Aesthetically attractive character? Check. Ethically grey and morally good character? Check. Tragic backstory? Check. Hurt/comfort with his charges? ...er, not so much, because his brother is a tool and I hope that psychopathic, abusive, whiny little bitch dies in a fire. But anyway, that’s kind of why Itachi doesn’t rank higher, to be honest lmao. Love this little freak a lot though (especially when he’s getting it on with Kakashi and/or Sakura, but whatever, I have my OTPs in this fandom and I’m old and tired enough to be pretty blasé about the purity police in American shipping culture, which is hilarious considering Naruto worldbuilding because did they even read or watch the manga?? That shit is fucking awful). He’s very queer-coded, like most ‘villains’ are even in Japanese media, and that obviously is of high interest to me, being queer myself.

He also has the demanding father, high expectations on his shoulders, and was understandably insane before he died, but somehow was loyal to averting war and maintaining peace and prosperity?? If I had been him, I would’ve either retired to the sea or watched the world burn so seriously, he deserved so much more than what he got, which was being murdered by his brother (seriously, fuck that bastard). He was also extremely shrouded in mystery even despite the major reveals within the manga, anime fillers, and novels so it was fun as fuck to flesh out his character in fic, not to mention it was obscenely interesting from an epidemiological prospective to dig into his illness in an effort to identify what it was.

Additionally, Itachi is also certainly neurodivergent too, which was obviously relevant to me, and it was also a very unique portrayal since it wasn’t the ‘uwu smol bean who’s good at mathematics or piano awwww’ or the ‘non-verbal, screaming savant’ autism that is so pervasive in media. He was straight-up brutal and violent on occasion, massacred his clan to save his village and brother, and was the consummate spy and master of mind-fucks, and yet he was kind and generous and did everything in his power to stave off something worse, though he ended up failing in the end because of matters out of his hands and because he was only one man. I don’t know, I have a lot of feelings about this man.

I’m still unimaginably bitter about the truly insane amount of fic and meta about him that I lost during the various purges – though I shudder to think about the plethora of anon hate and comments/reviews I’d probably be flooded in today’s purity culture, though admittedly a chunk of my Naruto fic was written in Japanese and, in a smaller number, French so it wouldn’t have had to deal with as much bullshit from American audiences – because the vast majority of it was about Itachi and/or Kakashi in the Naruto fandom. But what can you do?

(6) Draco Malfoy [Harry Potter]. Oooooh boy, where to even start with this arsehole. So. Despite the fact that I want Joanne Rowling to get lost in a distant galaxy and take her bullshit elsewhere, and despite the fact that Strikethrough/Boldthrough and the shipping wars still give me metaphorical nightmares, I have a lot of fond memories of the HP (and Drarry) fandom, and still obviously write for and read that pairing myself. Harry’s alright, I suppose, but Draco’s got a special place in my heart, mostly because I both see myself in him and see what I could’ve been at the same time, if that makes sense, so my love of him is very personal.

He grew up wealthy and privileged and I grew up like that too, albeit Jewish and brown instead of white and magical like Draco is. He grew up with a demanding shit of a father who wanted him to have a wife and an heir, and I grew up with a demanding shit of a father who wanted me to have a wife and a child. Draco was supposed to be exactly like his father, walk the line and talk the talk, follow the doctrine and never step a toe out of his father’s approved line, never think for himself and to think lesser of anyone who was considered weaker or poor or what-have you, and Draco eventually realised (through self-preservation, ambition, and good old fashioned fear) that he needed to pull his head out of his arse, stop parroting his father’s racist dogma, and go against the grain if he was going to survive. I did the exact same thing. Sure, Draco did it through war and I did it through...a very different type of war, but it was the same sort of concept in my head, and I connected to him in a very visceral way when I was younger.

It was a double hit to the gut when I learnt that his wife died post-books (i.e. post-school), because my husband died post-school. But anyway.

But we both also could’ve turned out just like our fathers if things hadn’t gone tits-up, y’know. If the Wizarding War hadn’t happened and Draco hadn’t been forced to choose between saving his mother and his honour as a human being, Draco would’ve probably been a carbon copy of all the Malfoys before him. If I hadn’t gone through what I’d gone through because I’d been born queer and autistic, I would’ve probably been a carbon copy of my father and his father before him. It’s a very sobering and humbling thought.

He’s not perfect, that’s for damn sure, but none of us are, are we? We all have to unlearn shit that we internalise or are indoctrinated to accept as normal when we are children. Draco Malfoy is kind of my little comfort bastard that I get to use as therapy, because in a way I get to live vicariously through him and expunge a lot of nasty shit I am still unlearning, and I’ll always love him for giving me the opportunity to play around in that sandbox in a safe, fictional environment, just as I love playing around with all my other favourite characters in safe, fictional environments regardless of the fucked up, batshit crazy situations I put them through lol.

(7) Viktor Nikiforov [Yuri!!! On Ice]. Viktor is an interesting conundrum, because he’s an infamous ball of sunshine (with the occasional glimpse of serious melancholy or depression, however rare that may be) and that’s not my usual M.O. of favourite characters LMAO. But I am figure skating trash and when Yuri!! On Ice came out, I was on-the-fuck-board with watching that shit for sure. Like. I have a few major, life-will-hit-a-standstill hyperfixations and figure skating is one of them. So when there was a fucking figure skating anime coming out?? Yes please and thank you very fucking much.

I think the reason I love him so much – outside of the fact that he’s aesthetically gorgeous, that is – is because when the anime was airing, I was kind of in a transition phase in my life and was writing a fic I was getting a metric fuck-tonne of hate for, with pretty much zero support system, so I needed a comfort character who was just...really supportive?? Viktor is really supportive, understanding, and patient with Yuuri, who is a fucking anxious disaster of a human, and I guess I just latched onto that at the time. It also helps that his past is a complete blank slate, so it’s absolute fun to headcanon any sort of angsty shit I want. Or kinky shit. It’s really easy to project myself on him because he is the definition of a blank slate, and he’s down for pole dancing and exhibitionism and all sorts of really fun stuff. I just love a guy who’s up to whatever lmao. (Also, I’ve read so much good fic that has just cemented my love of him, seriously, there is some good shit out there, like woah.)

(8) Hermione Granger [Harry Potter]. Hey look, a woman on this list! No, but seriously, listen. Listen. I love her so fucking much. She’s the only member of the Golden Trio that doesn’t drive me bonkers on a regular basis – I love you Harry and Ron, I do, but seriously, I want to strange both of you on the reg – and she might need to learn tact sometimes but she’s the only one who I think has anything resembling common-fucking-sense in that whole damn series. She’s smart, she’s brave, she’s clever, she’s a badarse, she’s stellar at everything she puts her mind to, she doesn’t give a fuck what you think, she’s passionate, she’s willing to be vulnerable and doesn’t think that makes her look weak, and she’s pretty much the only one keeping those two dumb idiots she calls best friends alive most of the time. She’s an interesting case where she grew up ‘normal’, in the sense that she had well-adjusted parents and a well-adjusted home life, but then got thrown into an absolute shitshow of war and all that, particularly a magical war where her best friend was the main target and she was also a main target just because she was Muggle-born.

Muggle-borns were targeted just because they existed, to be tortured and exterminated, and that makes it even more personal for me because I’m Jewish. Almost my entire family was exterminated during the Shoah (Holocaust) and the Occupation of France – I still remember listening to my grand-mère’s story and the tattoo on her arm is seared into my brain to this very day. I still remember all the stories, from her and all the others, some still alive but most gone now. Knowing what my people went through during the Occupation, what my countrymen went through during the Resistance...it is chilling and humbling to think of the parallels of what Muggle-borns like Hermione must’ve experienced and lived through during the Wizarding War, when they were being rounded up and tried in a mockery of a court, sent to prisons and tortured and murdered. How that must’ve weighed on her, the fear of her life and Harry’s life, her parents. I feel that fear every day even now. The parallels of the Shoah and the Wizarding War are very therapeutic to write about, and it’s a way to get my grand-mère’s story out too, because she’s gone now and there’s no one to tell her story to because no one cares to listen anymore. I get to write justice and victory and closure for her people because my family doesn’t get to have that peace – they’re in mass graves and gas chambers and labour factories where influencers and tourists with selfie sticks grin at their iPhones where my people died.

Anyway, Hermione Granger deserves the world, and that’s the fuckin’ tea.

(9) Sebastian Smythe [Glee]. This follows a lot of the same themes as Draco Malfoy, tbh: grew up with privilege and money, was a bit of an arse, blahblahblah, then had a world-changing moment in their life and altered their life for the better. The difference between the two is that Sebastian isn’t as fleshed out as Draco is – there are seven books and a lot of official and unofficial canon material for HP whereas Glee just had Sebastian for about twelve seconds. Still, Sebastian allegedly lived in Paris, which is gross as a person from southern France but is nevertheless France. In addition, he was also canonically gay, canonically kinky (at least verbally but likely in practise too), canonically promiscuous, and canonically unashamed about all those things, which was fucking insane in primetime television about high school students that was hugely popular amongst mainstream audiences in the United States. Seriously, Glee was massive in America.

I never read or wrote any fic centred around secondary school shit because again, that squicks me out, not really because of age stuff but because fuck secondary school, I hated that time of my life and I don’t want to revisit it even in fiction lol. Also, I didn’t go to ‘high school’ in the U.S. and the idea of doing copious amounts of research on the American high school education system is exhausting, ngl, especially since it seems like every single state and every single country and every single district does it differently. You lot are confusing as fuck. Anyway, I like the idea of taking what little we do know about Sebastian and fleshing out his character based off my own experiences growing up in France – though I grew up in superior half because fuck the north and especially Paris – and then making it more angsty lol. A lot of my love for him is because of self-projection, the ability to headcanon and fill in gaps, and because fanon exists, I guess. It’s kind of funny because I don’t particularly find Grant Gustin, the actor, attractive at all, but I find the character attractive, if that makes any sense. I dunno. Anyway, I ship him with Kurt and they can have a lot of kinky sex in between affectionate bickering and sarcastic bitchfests. Those are the best kinds of dynamics imo

(10) Haruno Sakura [Naruto]. Another woman! LMAO. Nah, but seriously, I love her, despite the epic amount of hate she gets in the Naruto fandom (and the horrible treatment she got in the actual source material, don’t get me fucking started). Forgive the crudeness, but I’m a cis guy who’s into sucking prick or getting reamed by said prick, so I don’t usually focus on women in the media I consume, but there’s something about Sakura that I really jived with when I was getting into Shippūden. She was admittedly annoying as hell and airheaded for a boy in the first arc because she had been essentially brainwashed to think that was what girls were supposed to do (g-d, I hate how girls are practically tailored and bred for boys, it’s awful, as a guy I can tell you that we’re all a bunch of morons) but then realised that she needed to pull her head out of her arse, take matters into her own hands, and protect the people around her as well as start cracking skulls open because men are stupid. Which, again, is true.

Sakura is amazing, hands down, and she is absolutely a one-hit badarse. She gets a lot of flak because shippers of their “faves” don’t like that she’s in the middle of their gay ship and that’s literally the only reason they hate her, which is fucking gross as a queer man who’s sick and tired of being fetishised. She cuts a lot of motherfuckers down with her fists, heals the sick and wounded, is wicked smart, doesn’t take any nonsense from anyone, and is just plain cool as hell. Another one of those interesting cases like Hermione in which Sakura comes from humble upbringings, then ended up on a team with a bunch of fucked-up misfits and got thrown in the middle of drama and then a huge war that she was a cornerstone of, and I love being able to dive into what that does to someone like that. It wasn’t as debilitating as Hermione’s situation was, since the entire cornerstone of the Fourth Shinobi World War was about the jinchūriki (like Naruto) and not people like Sakura herself (in contrast to the situation in HP), but it’s still delicious to writers and worldbuilding angst-monsters like me.

I also like fix-it fics, like, a lot, and I hate Sasuke, like, a lot, and the canon material did Sakura dirty by ruining her character development in one sweep by hooking her up with a psychopath who’s canonically an abusive and a megalomaniac, so. I have a lot of fun with that, despite the sheer amount of flames and death threats I get for writing it. Y’know, because people don’t understand nuance or the Three Laws of Fandom, and clearly haven’t read/watched the fucked-up source material that is the Naruto manga/anime. If they had, they’d chill tf out and find another hobby.

Anyway, that's all for this post, and this is the only the tip of the iceberg as to why I love these (fictional) characters. IRL people is a different post altogether. And this also turned into a novel. And personal. Oops. I hope this answered your question at least somewhat...possibly?? It’s a really difficult question and I don’t really connect with a character unless there’s significant emotional and personal attachment, so it kind of goes hand-in-hand, therefore it’s a long response and a bit TMI and Extra™. I’m also-also sorry for any spelling and grammar mistakes; I have to start getting ready for work so I don’t have time to go over it again, English isn’t my first language, and I am in the middle of writing a figure skating AU for stevetony (it’s already at almost 70k and I’m only on chapter two of nine and I’ve only been writing for two months, please send help).

Toodles!

[aliwritesfic]

The Night Shift part 5 (F!Reader x Frankie Morales)

Quick summary: You learn the meaning behind Frankie's nickname

Warnings: None, I think, please let me know if I need to add some <3

W/C: 1.7k

Spotify (mainly just vibes, some songs have meaning, also updated regularly)

Part 1 Part 6

The smell of cooking bacon made your stomach growl as you entered the diner on Tuesday evening. You hadn’t eaten much all day, just a piece of toast and a handful of stale cheerios. Frankie was in the kitchen, his back to you. Your throat dried at the sight of him, remembering what you had done and how you had fantasized about him only a few hours earlier.

“Hi, Frankie,” you said, pushing thoughts of what you wanted him to do with his hands out of your mind. Stop being such a hornbag! You scolded yourself. Then he set those dark brown eyes on you and your brain ceased to function. Could he see your secret written on your face?

“Hey,” he said, smiling up at you. “You look tired.”

You almost sighed in relief. Maybe he couldn’t tell at all. You grabbed the coffee pot and poured yourself a cup. “I didn’t sleep much today. I was . . . worried about the kitten.” It wasn’t a whole lie; you really were worried about the kitten. The vet hadn’t sent you any updates, and you hoped that was a good thing.

“Are you gonna keep the kitten, if she lives?” Frankie flipped eggs as he spoke and set up a couple of plates.

“I can’t,” you grimaced, “Kurt would never go for it. He’s not really a fan of pets.”

Frankie made a face. “Not even adorable kittens?”

“Not even then,” you sighed. “It’s fine, though. It’s not like I have the time to properly care for one. I’m here most nights and I’m so busy with housework during the day when I’m not sleeping that it just- it just wouldn’t work.”

You kept your tone light, aware that customers could be listening. You didn’t want to scare off any tips with how miserable the subject made you. Frankie seemed to understand, because he didn’t bring the subject back up.

You were surprised at how easily you two worked together. Completely in sync when you had to be, entire sentences seemed to be translated through quick looks and raised eyebrows. This guy is a serial complainer. Want me to do something about those frat boys? Can you pretty please make me one of whatever this lady’s having?

All too soon it was 5:30 and the morning crew was there, breaking the comfortable silence between you. You found yourself lingering again, although you weren’t sure what for. You didn’t exactly need to stay. But still.

~*~

Frankie was shocked to see you still there. He was pulling his keys out of his jacket pocket when he saw you, standing outside, shivering in the early spring air.

“Thought’d you’d be halfway home by now,” he said, but he was still pleased to see you. He had come to the conclusion last night that you had a boyfriend, he would respect that and not make any untoward moves on you. Friendship suited him fine, even if he did think your boyfriend was a bit of a freak for not wanting a pet.

“I wanted to ask you something,” you said.

“Go ahead,” Frankie prompted.

“How’d you get the nickname Catfish?”

At this, Frankie’s lips twitched. He hadn’t been expecting that. “Before we were deployed, the boys and I went on a fishing trip. Well, one thing led to another and I had a huge catfish on my hook. This was a catch and release type of situation, you know?” When you nodded, he continued. “So, I reach in this creatures mouth to unhook it, and the bastard clamps down! Whole hand, in its mouth! And the thing about catfish, is they don’t have teeth, so they can’t technically bite, but they suck. It was like my hand was in a vacuum seal. When I eventually managed to get it out, no help from the boys mind you, it looked like a giant hickey on my hand. So, that’s where the nickname comes from.”

You snorted with laughter, and Frankie began to laugh too. At the time, it hadn’t been funny but looking back, he knew he would have been laughing his ass off if it happened to any of the other boys.

“I think Santi got a photo of it, I’ll try and find it for you if you want,” Frankie said. You nodded eagerly, wiping a tear from your eye.

“Please do, I’d love to see it,” you said with a grin that made his heart do something it really shouldn’t. Frankie nodded, making a mental note to call Santi and demand that the bastard rip apart his house to find it if he had to.

You turned to leave, and before he could stop himself, he was asking “do you want a ride?” Friends gave each other rides when they needed it, he reasoned. You hesitated, and Frankie kicked himself. Of course he’d overstepped. You didn’t know him that well, he was just the fry cook.

“Uh, yeah actually. It looks like it might rain.”

As if you had summoned it, thunder rumbled low overhead. Fat drops of rain began to fall slowly painting the ground. Frankie jangled his keys and you both sprinted to his truck. He opened your door for you, and ran around to his side. He didn’t miss that you sat with your back ridgid, your hands curled so tightly your knuckles were white.

“You okay?” he asked, although you obviously were not.

“Yeah, no, it’s just . . . You’re aware your truck looks like a death trap?”

Frankie snorted. He was very aware of this, but he was also very aware of what was under the hood. He trusted this truck more than any fancy modern car. Still. He decided that this was the perfect opportunity to mess with you. Just to see how you responded.

“Have you ever seen The Fast and The Furious?” He began, and you raised an eyebrow at him, your face skeptical. “Tokyo Drift, specifically. Well, this truck won me the title of Drift King several years in a row. That’s how well she runs.”

“Oh, fuck off!” You rolled your eyes, but you were laughing. “That’s not even slightly believable.”

“Yeah, you’re right. But how cool would it be if it were true.”

You rolled your eyes again, but you were smiling as you did it, and Frankie counted that as a victory. You gave him directions as he drove, surprising him with how close you lived to him. Only a five minute drive away. How long had you been this close? How had he never noticed you in the neighbourhood? Had he been blind, all these years?

“Thank you,” you said quietly as he pulled up outside your building, a three story walk up with a faded brick facade. The rain was coming down hard now, and lightning flashed.

“Anytime,” Frankie said in a tone that he truly meant any time. You nodded and ran through the rain, disappearing into the building. Frankie idled for a moment, wishing he could call you back and kiss you goodbye.

But he didn’t, because it wasn’t decent and it wasn’t what friends did. Friends didn’t crush on their friend like a fucking idiot kid.

So Frankie drove himself home and drove all thoughts of your mouth out of his head. That was until he checked his phone, and saw a text from an unknown number.

Thanks for the ride, I really appreciate it :) sent 5:57AM

Frankie quickly saved your number in his phone, not taking the risk of losing it somehow. A second message from you buzzed through.

Oh and lunch on Sunday is at Taylor’s Bistro, on High Street if you still wanna come sent 6:01AM

Frankie wrote his message quickly.

Wouldn’t miss it x

He stared at it for too long, erased the x, replaced it with a smiley face and hit send before he could overthink it entirely. Then he remembered his promise to you, and called Santi almost instantly.

“Fish, what the fuck man? It’s four in the morning,” Santi groaned into the phone.

“It’s six you dope, but I need a favour,” Frankie said.

“Money?”

“No, man, nothing like that. Do you still have that photo of the catfish on my hand?”

“Yeah I’ve got a copy in my wallet.” Santi sounded more awake, and Frankie could hear his fancy espresso machine whir to life.

“Why do you- nevermind. Look, I need a copy ASAP.”

“What for? If it’s to destroy it just know I’ve thought ahead and I’ve got four physical copies and one in the Cloud.”

“No, nothing like that. It’s for a girl at work, she asked how I got my callsign and now I’ve gotta show her the photo.”

“Oh?” Santi sounded intrigued. “Who’s this girl?”

“A friend,” Frankie said a little forcefully. “She has a boyfriend.” As if that closed the matter. Apparently, it didn’t.

“Why should that stop you?” Santi asked. “You’re hot, I don’t know this chick but she’d be blind to not be into you.”

“Well, for one, my brain isn’t directly wired with my dick.” At this, Santiago scoffed. Frankie continued, ignoring him. “Secondly, she’s like, twenty five or six. She’s probably not into old guys.”

“You’re thirty-three, you’re not old. Also, chicks dig DILFs.”

“I don’t have a kid.”

“And yet you still have big DILF energy. I wonder if there are any little Francisco’s running around that we have yet to discover.”

“Shut the fuck up, man, it’s bad luck to say that kind of shit. Just get the photo to me, please.”

Santiago roared with laughter as Frankie hung up. Trust Santiago to work one of his deepest fears into conversation. Frankie wasn’t sure what he was more afraid of: having children, or having children and having no clue they existed. It wasn’t that he was against having kids altogether, it was just he knew he wasn’t in the right headspace to take care of someone who depended on him entirely. Some days he forgot to take care of himself, he didn’t want a kid to suffer. It wouldn’t be fair.

He brushed the thought aside as he climbed into bed. It was bad luck to linger on bad thoughts, at least, that’s what his abuela always told him whenever he complained about something as a kid.

He wasn’t sure why exactly he had told you that there was photographic evidence of a catfish latched onto his hand. Maybe he wanted to impress you? But no, he reasoned, there was nothing impressive about that. It was just plain embarrassing. He realised with a start that what he wanted was willing to do anything to hear your laugh again.

Taglist: @hnt-escape @sharkbait77 @1800-fight-me @annathewitch @darnitdraco @frankiecatfish

[writing-in-april]

Origins

Spencer Reid x Gender Neutral Reader

Summary: Reader feels homesick after a particularly gruesome case. Spencer can’t buy a plane ticket, but he can try to help recreate part of home with them.

A/N: hey heyyyy- this is my eighth fic for my 30 fics in 30 days for April- I’m very nervous for this one to be honest- idk if it’s going to be a lot of peoples cup of tea- this one had me researching a lot lol since I have no clue about boats at all lol- I hope I did the request at least a bit of justice (sorry in advance if I fuck up any terms or anything) but I think I did pretty well with my research (I think). I originally got the request from @imagining-in-the-margins when she handed it over to me also thanks for some help on the folklore parts too! Here it is-

I always want to hear from you guys so feel free to drop me an ask here- and hopefully y’all enjoy!!

Warnings: ~disclaimer lol I know nothing about boating~ Anyway into the other warnings- Takes place directly after season 3 episode 8 (Lucky with Floyd Feylinn) Spencer gets really fucking sea sick- poor baby, Reader is from overseas (originally Cornwall in the request but I made it a bit more vague) and Reader’s father is a fisherman

Main Masterlist Word Count: 1.8k

The air that floated around whenever I was out on the water, salty sea water or fresh salt water always seemed to breath life back into my lungs. The river that we were boating on was quite salty near its widest point, tides brought the saltwater in to mix with the fresh making the water quite brackish.

I was lucky to still live somewhat near water after I had moved over to America. I hadn’t had the luxury of picking exactly where I was going to live and work when I transferred to the FBI, I just happened to draw all the right cards. With my schedule I didn’t go out on the water as much as I used to, definitely not as often as I had as a child. I yearned often to feel the specific type of air people only felt when on the water, especially when my job got particularly gruesome.

Gruesome was a way to define the last case my team and I had been brought in to investigate. My stomach churned at the thought of our last unsub, his name couldn’t leave my mind and the images of his heinous acts certainly didn’t leave either. Floyd Feylinn Ferell had been his name, though I wished I could forever scrub it from my memory. His crimes were too vile that everything seemed to trigger a memory, specifically of the frozen corpses.

The team had even noticed how affected I was by the case, often sending me worrying looks whenever it looked like blood drained from my face over sheer shock- just like the corpses. Cases had been gruesome before, sure, but there was something about this one made me feel frozen by fear.

I needed air, and not just any old air.

Homesickness was another factor that was making me feel so ill. I hadn’t been back to my home in so long, the only time I spoke with my father was over the phone, no video chats at all. He was just as technophobic as Spencer, maybe even more so to be honest. My father’s life as a fisherman hadn’t made him exceptionally tech savvy. He did know how to work a phone now thanks to you, which was another similarity to him and Spencer. I had helped Spencer learn how to work his new smartphone just last week.

Spencer, my lovely boyfriend of a few months, wanted to help quell my dark thoughts as best as he could with all of his knowledge. His first solution was to always revert to books, which I didn’t mind, it only made him more special to me. He tried to find books that would remind me of home- and get my mind off of gruesome cases that were closed and shut cases.

Hotch had then suggested the team take a day off, just one. After weeks of back to back cases with little to no reprieve we’d finally get some time alone, even if it was only for a day. All I needed was one day to get on the water and cleanse myself of the negative thoughts I had been feeling lately.

It was actually Spencer that had first suggested this excursion. He had come to one of our dates with his arms full of pamphlets all about renting a boat for the day. He also had definitely read up about boats, I’d expect nothing less of Spencer. I had learned it was his way of subtly showing affection, researching anything that I even was passively interested in.

Spencer packed even more than I did when we set off on the day long date, packing to the brim at least one too many bags- to be honest he packed two too many bags.

Once we had gotten the boat out into the water, the relief was almost instant. It was like my body knew I was home. I wasn’t actually at home of course, but it somehow knew I was near the water again. Honestly, Spencer hadn’t been far off when he called me a mermaid on one of our first dates, I had gone on a ramble about my love for it.

The water wasn’t nearly as clear as where I had grown up, much more dull in my opinion. But, the breeze that danced across my skin as well as the water made me feel more at home then I had been in a long time. After letting the mist spray onto my cheeks for a while I looked over to check on Spencer, who was not doing well by the looks of it.

Spencer’s face was twisted up in a grimace, not used to being in a boat. Until I had asked him a few weeks ago, to make sure it would be safe to go out on the water with him, I hadn’t even been sure he could swim. I also wasn’t that surprised that he had this reaction, it would have been less of a problem if it was a boat that I had picked out and bought. But, I’d take what I’d get if only to be by the water.

He pretended to hide his urge to dry heave over the side of the small boat that I had rented for the weekend. He looked almost green at this point, I knew he was only staying for my benefit at this point making me a tad bit sad. Water definitely seemed to have the opposite effect on Spencer compared to me, being on the water always felt like instant relaxation to me.

I still, however, didn’t want him to feel any major discomfort like he was obviously feeling so I decided to pipe up since he wouldn’t tell me himself, “Are you sure you’re ok enough to stay, Spencer?”

He pulled his life vest around himself as tight as he could while crossing his arms around his stomach. It took him a second to answer and in that time I almost started to turn the boat around back to the bay.

“I’m fine!” He squeaked out and I could see a shiver run through him. If I had offered to turn the boat around he’d most definitely have given me a glare, not wanting me to turn it around for his own sake. I squinted my eyes in suspicion, he was not completely fine obviously, but if he was insistent on staying maybe I could find something to distract him from it.

“Do you want to hear a sea shanty or do you want me to tell a regular story?” I asked out into the wind, thinking that might distract him from his nausea.

“A story, but you can’t call them regular stories.” He teased back as well as he could with the urge to dry heave, as if he didn’t know what I had meant. I scooted a little closer to him before I prepared myself to tell my story.

Selkies were always the ones I started out with whenever I told the stories I had grown up with. Despite its dark undertones I had latched onto the story as a child, finding it similar to the mainstream perception of what mermaids were. Though I’m reality seals that could transform into humans were a far cry from mainstream ideas of mermaids, a Merrow would have been a better comparison.

I always gave Spencer the origins of the story, he liked to know exactly where they had come from and how I had heard about the story in the first place, “As you know by now the folklore about Selkie’s originates from Scotland. Well- let me think about what I haven’t told you about Selkies before…” I pondered for a moment before remembering an aspect of the Selkies powers I hadn’t educated Spencer on yet. There was no doubt in my mind that he probably had all this information stored away in his brain somewhere, it was nice to know that someone genuinely cared about the stories I liked to tell. “Selkies are immortal, but they can be killed by other creatures. And I know I’ve told you that part, but I haven’t told you that they are generally killed by sharks when they are in seal form.”

I then went into the whole lore surrounding Selkie’s immortality. My hands were waving around animatedly as I talked, just like how the small waves were rocking our boat. They had definitely calmed down by now, hopefully Spencer would feel better soon.

Once I finished my tale I beamed over at him, my mood had brightened significantly over this trip, even though I could sense that Spencer’s had not. Though the story might have helped, he seemed a little less sickly now. He then managed to ask again without puking, “Could you tell another story? Maybe about the Kelpies? Or the Pixies of Cornwall? You can pick anything though really, I love listening to your stories.”

My heart swelled enough from his words that I thought it might burst. I wouldn’t have expected anything less of Spencer, he always hunted for more knowledge about things he was maybe more ignorant about compared to other topics.

I opted to then tell him about the Kelpies, who were also water dwelling creatures, before moving onto the pixies. He even seemed to be getting attached to the same stories that you favored as a child, and even as an adult.

I looked over at him as I finished my last little bit of information that I felt I could muster up today. A smile filled with fondness crept onto my face, his fluffy hair strewn about. It was cute despite his lingering sea sickness.

His face was remarkably less green now, my stories must have soothed him which made me feel heat run to my cheeks. Each time Spencer took interest in my origins I felt deeper feelings bubbling up, that were more than what we had expressed yet. Instead of voicing my full feelings just yet, I leaned forward to give him a chaste kiss on the forehead. He may have not looked green anymore, but I’d wait to give him a kiss on the lips until after we got back to shore, just in case something was to happen.

“Can you sing now?” I knew that he was not requesting me to sing any silly old song. He wanted me to sing the sea shantys that my father had taught me as a child. Not that I minded his request, I’d do anything to make him happier and I loved singing them anyway.

I smiled brightly as I guided the boat back to shore while I sang, already feeling lighter. It had not just been the water this time that made me feel better, it was also because of Spencer. He had taken so much care to help me feel more connected with home, loving to learn about your origins.

Ask Me Anything

—-

Tag lists (message me if you want to be added):

All works: @shotarosleftpinky @oreogutz @90spumkin @kyra-morningstar @s1utformgg @takeyourleap-of-faith I’m sorry 😭

All MGG characters: @muffin-cup @willowrose99

Spencer Reid/CM: @calm-and-doctor @destiny-tsukino @safertokiss @slutforthegubes @onlyhereforthefanfics @jareauswifey

[kaylaxwrites]

Into You

Pairing: Jessica Jones x Reader Words: 2.5k Summary: After the police practically dismiss your concerns of stalker, you turn to Alias Investigations for help. Request:  Jessica Jones x f reader where reader hires her as a pi (for whatever reason) and the case takes awhile so reader develops feelings but doesn't want to act on them because it's in appropriate since Jessica is working for her. Then as soon as the case is over Jessica pulls out two glasses and some whisky and is like "I'm a pi obviously I noticed you're into me now let's drink together and see where this goes cuz I like you too" (anon) A/N: Sorry this took so long! It might not follow the request exactly (I forgot to make the case like take a while) but I hope you like it! 

Warnings: reader has a stalker, gets cornered by stalker and is also punched

Tears stung your eyes as you stepped out of the police station. You were convinced, you knew, you had a stalker. Someone had been following you for several weeks now, left crude “love letters” taped to your apartment door, and generally left you with an unsafe and uncomfortable feeling. You went to the police today for help—any help—and left feeling crushed and defeated. The officers inside didn’t take you seriously, brushed you off, dismissed your concerns and you were angry.

Afraid.

You started walking down the street back towards your apartment, brushing away stray tears. Being in the open—even in front of a police station—made you feel uneasy. You didn’t know what to do next and you were about to spiral into a panic attack. One step at a time, you tried to tell yourself, taking deep breaths as you walked. You would go home, and figure out what to do there. Right now you just needed to get home and calm down.

You looked to the sky as a means to keep your tears at bay when a sign in a fifth-floor window caught your eye and slowed you to a halt.

Alias Investigations.

A private investigator? Could they help you with your problem? Maybe they could help you get the evidence you needed for the police to take you seriously. Did you have the money for it, though? Fuck it, you thought. It would be cheaper than moving across town and changing your name. With a steading breath, you opened the door to the building and made your way inside.

You soon arrived at the fifth floor and anxiety knotted your stomach. This building looked sketchy—the suspiciously blood-like stains in the elevator was more than enough to give you that uneasy feeling—but you were already here. So might as well. Right?

You knocked hesitantly on the door, surprised when you heard what sounded like muttered curses from the other side. Did you come at a bad time? You almost left but then the door creaked open and you were met with the annoyed face of a pale, black-haired woman.

“Can I help you?” she asked curtly, opening the door only enough to show her shoulders and face, trying to appear as unwelcoming as possible.

“Uh…” The woman and her weird greeting left you somewhat speechless so you weakly pointed at the window where Alias Investigations was printed in bold letters. “Alias Investigations?” you said as if she wouldn’t know the name of her own business. You could kick yourself for your awkward stuttering.

“Shit. Hold on.” She closed the door in your face and you took a step back, startled. Through the opaque glass on the door, you could see the silhouette of the private eye quickly picking up the main room of her apartment, throwing trash and other stray items out of sight. You stopped yourself from smiling when the door was thrown back open and she welcomed you inside.

You sat tentatively in one of the chairs across from her desk as she sat heavily in the opposite seat, folding her arms on the top of her desk. She gestured for you to start talking and you did. “I think I have a stalker,” you started. But then you shook your head, restarting. “I know I have a stalker. I don’t know who he is, but I’ve caught glimpses of him a couple of times and he keeps leaving me these…letters on my door about once a week.” You dug into your bag and pulled out several of the letters you tried to bring as evidence, laying them on the table.

Jessica, you realized from her name tag on the desk, picked them up and scanned through them. “Have you been to the police?” she asked.

“I went there this morning. They practically dismissed me outright. I was walking home when I saw your sign.” You nodded towards the window behind her that advertised to the street.

She shuffled through the letters some more. “And do all of these…?”

Talk graphically about what your stalker would do once you were “together”?

“Yeah. The officer…” You cleared your throat, feeling tears stinging your eyes once again. “The officer said that I-I had probably led some guy on and that’s why he was leaving me love letters. He hasn’t threatened to kill me, so they aren’t—they aren’t going to help me.” Your voice was strained by the end of your sentence and you knew Jessica picked up on it.

“And you don’t know who it is?”

You shook your head. “Like I said, I’ve caught glimpses of him, but…”

“What does he look like?”

“Tall. Six foot, maybe? White. Not skinny, but not like super muscular either. He always has a hood or sunglasses on, so I’ve never really gotten a good look at his face. He hasn’t talked to me in person, either. Just leaves the letters.”

Jessica thought for a moment, looking over the letters once more. “I’ll help you,” she said eventually.

You nearly shot out of your seat. “Really? Oh my god, thank you. I don’t know what else I’d do.” You reached into your bag for your wallet. “How much will I owe you? I only have two hundred to give now, but I can find more to pay you later.”

“I’ll take a hundred for now. I’ll figure out the rest later.”

You pulled five twenties out of your wallet, half of your paycheck you cashed out earlier that day. You also gave her your phone number, address, and your schedule for the week. Jessica said she’d be in touch with you and you soon left afterwards, feeling lighter than you had in weeks now that the weight was beginning to lift off your shoulders.

You didn’t hear much from Jessica the next few days. She said she was going to watch you in your daily routine for a little while to see who she could find that was suspicious or she saw a lot in your vicinity. You never once saw her watching you, so you had to take her for her word—that either meant she was really good or you just gave a hundred bucks to someone who was going to ghost you. Thankfully, by the end of the week, you didn’t have to worry about being ghosted by a P.I.

Jessica found your stalker.

James Williams, she said his name was, but it didn’t ring a bell. You didn’t know him and you weren’t sure how he knew you. “You could’ve helped him at work or smiled at him on the street,” Jessica assured you. “These assholes will take any random act of kindness as a love declaration.”

“You could say that again,” you muttered. But you thanked her for her help and ended the phone call, agreeing to meet in about two hours after you got home from work. You pulled yourself from your hiding spot in the stock room of your workplace and finished up your shift.

By the end of the hour, you were starting your walk to Jessica’s office. You were less than two blocks down the road when an arm wrapped around your shoulders and backed you against the wall of an alleyway. Your head smarted against the brick and you blinked rapidly as you took in the face in front of yours.

You didn’t recognize it, but it must be…

James.

“What—what do you want?” you stuttered, your brain suddenly short-circuiting.

“You called…you called a P.I.?” he asked. He almost sounded…heartbroken. “I—I had a plan. I had a plan for us and you ruined it!”

“I don’t want to be a part of your plan. I don’t even know you!”

“I had everything figured out. We were gonna—”

“Get off of me, fucking creep!”

You instantly regretted your words as a look of anger flashed through his eyes. Maybe calling the psychopath a creep wasn’t the best way to go. Before you could brace yourself, he swung his fist and you were met with a flash of pain in your nose, a trail of blood following not long after. The force of the blow had you spiraling towards the ground and your felt your ankle twist as you fought to remain upright. Gravity won in the end and your palms scraped across concrete as you fell. Before your thoughts could even register, James’ hands were at your shoulders, lifting you upright, and pressing you against brick once more.

“Do not…call me that,” he said between heavy breaths. You flinched when he reached a hand up to cup the side of your face, brushing away blood with his thumb. Your mind flashed through every self-defense post on social media, but you couldn’t think clearly to remember specific moves. You were halfway to hyperventilating when James was suddenly yanked aside and thrown down the alleyway.

“You okay?” a voice asked. You looked to your left. Jessica.

“I’ll be fine,” you managed.

Blood was pouring from your nose still and you tried to stem the flow with the sleeve of your shirt. Movement down the alley caught your eye and you glanced over. James was staggering to his feet and started towards you. Jessica huffed and rolled her eyes, meeting the man halfway. In the blink of an eye, she lifted him and threw him into a nearby dumpster, latching the lid closed so he couldn’t escape.

“That’ll hold him until the police get here,” she said, brushing her hands off.

“Police?” you asked.

“Yeah, that little stunt will get him time for assault. And you won’t have to worry about him anymore.” She took a few steps towards you. “Let me see,” she said, gesturing towards your face. As the bleeding was now mostly stopped, you lifted your head so she could see the damage. “It’s not broken,” she said after a moment, “but you’re gonna have one hell of a shiner in the morning.”

Great, you thought. But if it was the price to pay for getting rid of your stalker…

At that moment, a police cruiser pulled into the mouth of the alley.

You don’t remember much of the statement you gave to the police. The throbbing in your skull pretty much override it all. But thankfully, before long, the officers were taking James away in handcuffs and you were allowed to leave, the card of one of the officers pressed against your hand. Jessica stayed by your side through it all and you were thankful for her presence.

When you were allowed to leave and the officers had left, you tried to stand on your sprained ankle, but could barely make it a single step. The walk back to Jessica’s office was going to be one hell of a trip. Jessica took one pitying look at your pained step and bent as if she was going to pick you up. You quickly shuffled out of her reach. “What are you doing?” you asked.

“You can’t walk,” she answered simply.

“So what? You’re just going to try and carry me? Halfway across Hell’s Kitchen?”

“You got a better plan?”

You looked down at yourself. Your shirt was splattered with blood from your nose. Couldn’t exactly take an Uber looking like you did. “I guess not,” you sighed in defeat.

“So?”

“But you can’t carry me!” Jessica was tiny and you… “I’m too…”

“Heavy?” You gasped as your eyes widened in shock. Jessica was blunt, sure, but… “Shit, not like that. I didn’t—” She sighed. “Just… Look.” She knelt down in between two parked cars, placing a hand under each of the bumpers. With barely a grunt, she stood, lifting the ends of the cars on either side of her until the wheels were nearly waist high.

“Holy shit,” you breathed.

“Yeah.” She dropped the cars and they bounced to the ground. You were surprised the alarms didn’t go off or the wheels didn’t bust. “So are we good here?” You stuttered to find words. You wanted to just let her pick you up—she did just lift two cars, after all—but you were still worried. “So can we go or what?”

“I-I guess.” You moved awkwardly as Jessica lifted you into her arms. Your ankle throbbed as your weight was lifted off of it. You tried to situate yourself comfortably as Jessica carried you, but you didn’t know what to do with your arms. You settled on one across the back of her shoulders and the other curled into your chest, trying to minimize the points of contact with Jessica’s body.

But then you realized just how close Jessica’s face was to yours.

You took in her profile, watching how her hair bounced as she walked, how her pale skin practically changed colors under different streetlights. You realized then just how beautiful she was and maybe you were starting to have a thing for her. Great.

You blushed and turned away as her eyes turned to you. She huffed out a chuckle before returning her attention to the sidewalk.

Eventually, Jessica set you down on the couch in the living room of her office. She stepped over to the bookshelf in the corner of the room, a bookshelf that held more liquor than books, and poured two large drinks. She crossed back to you, offering you one of the glasses. You took it gratefully as Jessica fell on the couch next to you. You sipped your drink slowly, carefully—but by the time you were only a quarter done with yours, Jessica had already refilled her own, having brought the half-full bottle across the room with her.

The two of you sat there quietly, drinking, unwinding, for several minutes until you felt the need to break the silence. “Jessica, I—,” you began, but she cut in, finishing your sentence for you.

“You’re into me.”

Your face flushed and you turned your gaze quickly to the dark amber liquid in your glass. You weren’t even really sure what it was—whiskey? Bourbon? Was there a difference?—but you were tempted to reach over and chug the whole bottle if this was the conversation Jessica wanted to have. “I-I was just going to say thank you,” you stammered, “for everything.”

“You sure that’s all you wanted to say?” She turned her whole body to face you, tucking one of her legs underneath her. You refused to meet her gaze. “I’m a PI. A good one. And you’re an open book. You didn’t think I noticed?”

Your face burned hotter than ever and you wished the couch would swallow you whole—were you really that obvious about your feelings? Jessica reached behind her for the liquor bottle and refilled her drink once more as well as topped yours off. You took several burning gulps to try and distract yourself from the situation. You would give anything to be anywhere but here. You were into Jessica, but she wasn’t into you—the following conversation would be the most embarrassing of your life.

“I’m—I’m sorry. I should go.” You stood to try to gather your coat and your bag, wanting nothing more than to leave.

Jessica’s iron grip on your arm stopped you dead in your tracks. “For what it’s worth,” she said, almost scoffing, as if what she was about to say wasn’t worth anything at all, “I’m into you, too.”

divider by writeyourmindaway

[catgrump]

"Get on your knees" for.... uh.... Soudam? Maybe 👉👈 You are so good!!!

Oh yes I do anon. Yes I do.

I’ve been wanting an excuse to write this specific scenario so thank you for this gift.

This takes place in My Specific Theatre AU BUT this piece has nothing to do with theatre and can be looked at on its own. But for context: they attend university together and share a 2-bedroom apartment. This takes place around the start of “Maybe This Time”, my Theatre AU piece on AO3, if you need to know the timeline

🌹🌹🌹

Read it under the cut!  Warning for sexual content!

The movie was over. Netflix was asking if they were still watching.

The beer bottles and wine glasses weren’t going to clean themselves up

So why was Kazuichi still lazing about— with his head in Gundham’s lap, no less?

It’s not like Gundham seemed to mind, oddly enough. He took strands of his roommate’s damaged hair in his fingers, twirling it and bringing it up and down through the air

“I’m glad it had a happy ending,” Kazuichi said to anyone who would listen (and since he and Gundham were the only ones in their apartment, he sure was hoping Gundham would listen), “It was like... there’s someone out there for everyone, you know?”

Gundham could tell Kazuichi was tipsy. Hell, Gundham was tipsy, too. He had his fair share of wine to get through that ridiculous teen rom-com. They originally started watching it to make fun of it, but the more beer (and some of Gundham’s wine) Kazuichi put in his system, the more genuinely invested he became.

“Yes, I suppose that’s a fair takeaway from the... shoddy script,” Gundham replied, continuing to mindlessly toy with the flourescent hair in his lap

“If there’s someone out there for everyone,” Kazuichi said, his words seeming to spill out of his mouth, “Why don’t we have girlfriends, man? I mean, look at you; you’re hot as shit.”

Gundham scoffed as Kazuichi lifted his arms up in the air to emphasize his statement. “Well perhaps it’s because you still say things that imply you think everyone around you is heterosexual,” he retorted

Kazuichi slowly picked himself up and turned to face Gundham, his shoulders slouched over, “C’mon, man, you know I’m still trying to get used to that. I’ve only been out for like a year and a half,” he whined

“And I understand that eliminating the ‘Straight is the Default’ setting in your brain can be challenging, but you live with someone else who is bisexual,” Gundham elaborated, “We’ve lived together for years.”

Kazuichi chuckled, “Remember when I thought I was straight in freshman year?”

“I was amazed how in denial you were.”

And now it seemed like Kazuichi couldn’t stop laughing. The laughter was slow, almost sounding deliberately rhythmic. “Hey, Gundham... can I tell you a secret?”

“Sure.”

He had a stupid grin on his face. After living with Kazuichi for so long, Gundham knew he got... silly when he’s had a bit to drink. “You have to promise not to tell anyone,” Kazuichi added

“I won’t tell anyone.”

Kazuichi shot himself up, pointing a finger toward Gundham, “AND you have to promise not to get mad.”

After living with Gundham for so long, Kazuichi should know that Gundham is blunt when he’s had a bit to drink. “I won’t be angry with you,” he said. He meant it.

Kazuichi’s grin extended, practically reaching his ears. “Have you ever maybe uhhhhhh jacked off while thinking about your roommate? Cuz I have! Multiple times!”

Kazuichi was stifiling laughter, and almost missed Gundham’s rather immediate response. “Oh. Sure, I’ve done that a few times.”

“Haha, good; I’m glad I’m not the only one,” Kazuichi swayed back and forth, as if he were on a boat, smiling obliviously

If Gundham had wanted to— as Kazuichi so eloquently describes it— get shitfaced, he would’ve taken another swig of wine in disbelief during the silence they shared. Instead, he just shook his head.

Then, Kazuichi seemed to instantly sober up. “Wait.”

Kazuichi must’ve remembered that Gundham loses his filter when he has alcohol in him. But he didn’t ask Gundham to elaborate. Gundham didn’t need to go into detail about the times he’s had to control himself when Kazuichi walks around shirtless. He didn’t need to go into detail about the times he’s moaned Kazuichi’s name when he was home alone. He didn’t need to go into detail about the time he heard Kazuichi masturbating through the wall seperating their bedrooms, and got himself off on the sounds of his pleasure. He didn’t need to elaborate on any of that. He grabbed Kazuichi’s shirt collar in his fist and pulled him close. “You are such a fool.”

Regaining his balance, Kazuichi latched on to Gundham’s arms, feeling how toned they were for the first time. He looked up at Gundham in awe, seeing his hair down, framing his defined face.

As soon as Kazuichi looked him in the eye, he couldn’t hold back any longer. Gundham brought his hands to Kazuichi’s face and they kissed with more intensity than they had ever kissed anyone before.

Kazuichi’s hands gripped Gundham’s biceps, then frantically migrated across his chest and back, wanting to feel every muscle he didn’t know Gundham had.

Within seconds of their lips meeting, Gundham felt Kazuichi’s tongue asking to be invited inside, and Gundham instantly accepted, being sure to hold on to Kazuichi’s jaw and neck as they explored

Kazuichi tugged on the hem of Gundham’s shirt as he gently bit Gundham’s lower lip. Gundham grunted and grabbed Kazuichi’s wrists.

“You like that?” Kazuichi teased

“I do,” Gundham’s low voice reverberated through Kazuichi’s body as he whispered in his ear before he was suddenly pushed backward, his back landing on the seat of their couch

Kazuichi was not expecting to be, but he was instantly hard. Gundham throwing him down like that, followed by him taking off his shirt himself, shaking out his hair after he tossed it aside... Kazuichi felt like he needed air to prepare for whatever was in store.

Kazuichi had seen Gundham’s naked torso before. The moments were brief, but he— willingly or not—committed the images to memory. Suddenly, Kazuichi was feeling that body against his own as Gundham kissed him again. Kazuichi brought his hands to Gundham’s back to pull him closer, wanting no separation between their chests, stomachs...

Gundham pushed Kazuichi’s hair away as he created a path of kisses, trailing from his lips to his jaw to his neck. Kazuichi gasped when he felt Gundham steadily increase pressure on his neck. He was going to leave marks. Kazuichi craned his neck to give Gundham more of a canvas to work with.

Gundham was multi-tasking. As he sucked on Kazuichi’s neck, he was unbuttoning the shirt Kazuichi had on. It would only be fair.

Gundham pushed Kazuichi’s shirt aside, exposing the torso he’d always wanted to touch, never breaking contact with Kazuichi

One of Gundham’s calloused hands found its way to Kazuichi’s pecs, and his chest felt incredible in Gundham’s palm; against his fingertips

And Kazuichi bit his lip as he writhed in even the simple sensations of Gundham’s mouth on his neck and Gundham’s fingers grazing a nipple. God, how long HAS it been since someone ELSE touched Kazuichi like this?

Gundham had moved to Kazuichi’s collarbone and bit. Hard. “Fuck,” Kazuichi was so tempted to reach for Gundham’s belt

But if Gundham wanted to leave marks, Kazuichi thought Two can play at this game.

Kazuichi dragged his fingernails across Gundham’s back, slowly, and that got Gundham to lose his composure, practically collapsing on top of him. He gasped and shut his eyes tight, muffling moans into Kazuichi’s shoulder

There was no mistaking how turned on the other was. When Gundham brought himself down to be flush with Kazuichi, they both took notice of the other’s hard-on

And while Gundham gave in temporarily, he relished too much in making Kazuichi squirm to let him take over.

He resumed his assault on Kazuichi’s neck, taking hold of his hair in his fist, and pulled as he grinded his hips against Kazuichi’s.

The friction was driving Kazuichi insane. His curiosity was overwhelming him, too. He had to find out how big he was.

Kazuichi bucked into him, doing his best to tell Gundham he wanted to take things further without saying anything.

But that wasn’t enough for Gundham. “Tell me what you desire,” he whispered a demand in Kazuichi’s ear, nibbling on his earlobe after he spoke

Gundham ran his hands over Kazuichi’s pecs and shoulders, rolling the fabric of his shirt further down his arms. “Y-you,” Kazuichi nervously muttered

“What was that?” Gundham’s hands moved lower and lower, tracing Kazuichi’s waist and his remarkable hips. His fingers played with the waistline of Kazuichi’s pants, making Kazuichi bite his lip in desperation

“Gundham, please,” Kazuichi felt embarrassed being candid, especially with Gundham straddling him with a sexy smug smile, his hands pressed against Kazuichi’s chest

Gundham ran his hands across Kazuichi’s body again, and drifted his hands lower, rubbing them into Kazuichi’s inner thighs. Kazuichi needed them to get naked. Now.

“Use your words,” Gundham beckoned, inching closer and closer to Kazuichi’s dick

Kazuichi’s face was red. His whole body was hot and he felt way too restrained with his clothes still on. He shut his eyes so he didn’t have to look at Gundham when he blurted out “I want your cock”

Gundham huffed out a laugh as Kazuichi brought his hands up to his face to try to conceal his embarrassment.

Gundham brought himself up and Kazuichi peaked through his fingers when he heard the buckle of Gundham’s belt come undone.

In a bit of a frenzy, Kazuichi sat up and pulled his clothes off, casting them to the side in a chaotic pile

He couldn’t help but notice Gundham look down and smirk once Kazuichi’s dick was out

But Gundham’s pants were still on. His legs were spread across the seat of the couch, and his arms draped across the back. “Get on your knees,” he commanded

Kazuichi quirked his brow, but didn’t have any doubts in his next move once Gundham revealed what Kazuichi had been waiting for. He’s hung.

Kazuichi’s horny ass did as Gundham asked and got inbetween his legs, putting a hand on Gundham’s thigh, only slightly disappointed it wasn’t skin-to-skin contact.

His other hand took hold of Gundham’s dick, and brought it to his lips, relishing in Gundham’s sighs as Kazuichi wrapped his lips around the tip

Gundham grabbed Kazuichi’s hair again, biting his lip as he felt Kazuichi envelop his cock in his mouth. It was warm and every time Kazuichi sucked Gundham had to resist thrusting

And Kazuichi’s dick twinged every time he felt Gundham’s dick twinge inside him. Using the hand that was on Gundham’s thigh, he took hold of his own cock and started pumping, using his pre-cum to self lubricate

As he worked himself while sucking Gundham off, he couldn’t help but moan against Gundham’s dick. And that sent Gundham over the edge. He lost control of his hips and grabbed Kazuichi’s hair tighter

Feeling Gundham trying to fuck his mouth only made Kazuichi work harder. His head bobbed back and forth as quick as his hand went up and down his own dick. He was so close just from Gundham’s cock in his mouth.

“Kazuichi, wait,” Gundham moaned, and Kazuichi bucked into his own fist hearing Gundham moan his name, muttering a few curse words himself

Kazuichi released Gundham and looked up at him. He watched Gundham swallow as they made eye contact. “Yeah? You okay?” Kazuichi asked

“Allow me to do something for you,” Gundham requested

God dammit, he was so close and NOW Gundham’s offering? And Kazuichi was sure Gundham was about to finish, too.

Gundham stood up from the couch, and started walking out of the living room. “Are you going to join me?”

Kazuichi blinked and quickly left the floor to follow as Gundham walked through the hall and into his bedroom, and gawked as Gundham finally finished undressing, taking in the new sight of his toned thighs and firm ass.

His eyes grew wide when he saw Gundham reach into a drawer in his desk and retrieve what was so obviously a bottle of lube. He was officially in uncharted waters, and that excited him and wracked his nerves simultaneously

Kazuichi had kissed men before and gone down on men before... but he didn’t have any experience with what could come after.

Gundham climbed onto his mattress and propped himself up on his knees. He looked to Kazuichi and used his eyes to invite him to the bed

Kazuichi swallowed as he mirrored Gundham’s position, and pursed his lips as Gundham put a coat of the lubricant on his fingers.

Using his dry hand, Gundham grabbed Kazuichi’s ass and pulled him in close so their bodies were flush. Kazuichi yelped as he caught himself on Gundham, pressing his hands against Gundham’s chest.

Kazuichi’s heart was practically bursting out of his chest as he anticipated what was about to happen. Gundham had a devilish grin as he watched Kazuichi try to hide his nerves

His lubricated hand grasped on to Kazuichi’s ass as well, and he was sure to slide his fingers close— “Fuck!” Kazuichi gasped out

And Gundham paused. “Kazuichi... have you never done this before?”

Kazuichi was taken aback by Gundham’s surprise. His face turned red again as he said, “No...” and then Kazuichi had a sudden thought, “Have you?”

Gundham simply replied “Yes. A couple of times now.”

“What? When? With WHO?” Kazuichi pulled back, feeling sudden... jealousy?

“Do you want to know that, or do you want to cum?”

That sent shivers down Kazuichi’s spine. He was back on track, and he didn’t just want to cum: he needed it.

Kazuichi fervently nodded his head.

“Yes what?” Fuck, he’s doing it again.

Kazuichi felt every part of him except his boner shrink. He mumbled “makemecum”

“Don’t be shy, Kazuichi,” Gundham’s deep voice was so fucking sexy when it was breathy in his ear

“Gundham, please—“

Gundham’s dick twinged whenever he heard Kazuichi beg. He took a hand off Kazuichi’s ass and took hold of his cock, and Kazuichi instinctively shut his eyes and bucked his hips into Gundham’s hand. Kazuichi had been waiting for too long, but Gundham relished seeing him like this. “Tell me what you desire.”

“For the love of god: make me cum, please,” Kazuichi succumbed, burying his head in Gundham’s shoulder

“With pleasure,” Gundham cooed into Kazuichi’s ear. Kazuichi melted feeling Gundham’s voice against his body

And he trembled feeling Gundham’s slick fingers practically trace circles around his asshole. Kazuichi picked his head up and took a deep breath, attempting to relax

Gundham was stroking Kazuichi’s dick with his other hand, basking in Kazuichi’s body anticipating his next moves.

Kazuichi gasped and lurched forward, clinging to Gundham’s arms as he felt a finger be pushed inside

Gundham repeated Kazuichi’s taunt back at him as he continued pumping his cock and slowly thrusting his finger, “You like that?”

Kazuichi pressed his forehead into Gundham’s chest and moaned “So fucking much.”

Gundham took that as his cue to add another finger, and Kazuichi practically keeled over with a shout. He reached under Gundham’s arms to take hold of his back. This time his nails digging into Gundham’s skin was because they couldn’t get any closer

Kazuichi’s face was buried in Gundham’s shoulder again, muffling every sound Kazuichi made, and he wasn’t shutting up. It was difficult for Gundham to keep quiet, too. Hearing Kazuichi’s cries of pleasure made him wish he had a free hand to help his dick out. Kazuichi was too overcome to do anything but take it.

The instant Gundham curled his fingers, Kazuichi cried out his name and dug his fingernails into Gundham’s shoulder blades, making Gundham’s cock twitch against Kazuichi’s skin

“D-do that again,” Kazuichi whimpered against Gundham’s neck

Gundham didn’t need to toy with him anymore. He did as he asked and found Kazuichi’s prostate again, feeling Kazuichi’s hips follow his motions, taking pride in knowing this was Kazuichi’s first time experiencing this sensation as Kazuichi continued to moan and swear and call his name, digging deeper into his skin with his fingers

Gundham picked up the pace. Kazuichi was panting. Gundham heard his name muffled into his shoulder over and over and over again and knew Kazuichi was close.

Third time’s the charm. Gundham curled his fingers once again, slowing down the motion as one last tease, and Kazuichi cried out as he came. Gundham continued to use his fingers through Kazuichi’s orgasm but switched to rapidly pumping his own cock, not needing much to finish himself— the sounds Kazuichi made and remembering the feeling of Kazuichi’s mouth around him were plenty.

Their breathing eventually relaxed, and they pulled away to look at each other.

Their hair was destroyed. The hickies on Kazuichi were already turning purple. And they were covered in each other’s cum.

And all they both could think was What now?

Prompt from This List: feel free to send a request!

If you enjoyed it, please consider leaving me a tip on Ko-Fi if you can! 💛

[dontshootmespence]

Through It All

Part 14

Summary: Now married, Spencer & Y/N navigate the D/s lifestyle. How will their relationship change?

Words: 1,966

Warnings: Lactation kink, fingering, nipping.

A/N: My next entry for @cm-kinkbingo​ run by my beautiful girlfriend @heycasbutt​. This fulfills my lactation kink square.

In the warm sunlight streaming through your window, you can feel Spencer’s arm fitting snugly around your waist, holding you close. As you begin to stir, you realize he’s already awake too. Since it’s a weekend day, you have no plans, aside from taking care of the adorable time-vampire that is Charlotte Magnolia Reid. “So what are we doing today, handsome?” You mumble, the words barely decipherable to your own ears.

Spencer kisses the back of your hair before nuzzling his nose into the side of your neck. It tickles and sends you into a fit of laughter that ends up with you laying on top of him. “We aren’t doing anything,” he says with a glint in his eyes. “But you are.”

“What?”

Is it mom brain fog? Have you forgotten something you had planned?

When Spencer clocks your quizzical look, he laughs. “I have a surprise for you. You have to be ready by 11 AM.”

Spencer playfully smacks your ass when you get up before following you to the bathroom, where you get in one of your rare shower quickies. And Charlotte hasn’t woken up yet! Rejoice! She’s not sleeping through the night just yet, but she’s down to only waking up once or occasionally twice.

While you dry your hair, Spencer gets Charlotte, who finally begins to stir. They pass the bathroom and you sneak a kiss to your baby’s cheek. “I’ll be right there for feeding!” You cry out from the tiled walls.

“There’s a bottle left in the refrigerator, I got it!”

Since you have no idea where you’ll be going, you put on minimal makeup and then walk outside to where Spencer’s feeding Charlotte on the couch, talking to her about the people passing by on the street below - making up stories about them. “Babe, I don’t know where I’m going so what do I wear?”

“Wear one of my graphic tees and your most comfortable pair of leggings.”

With your instructions, you slip into your bedroom and get dressed. Spencer’s shirt is a tad too tight considering the girls are still big, but it’s good enough and the next few hours pass without any major incidents aside from a bit of spit up on Spencer’s pajama shirt.

As you’re rocking Charlotte to a mid-morning nap, there’s a knock at the door. “I’ve got it,” Spencer replies when he sees you go to get up.

Emily, Tara, Penelope and JJ are plowing inside in a matter of seconds, cooing over ‘little baby genius Reid.’ “Good god,” Tara says softly. “She’s so beautiful. How do you two not stare at her every second of every day?”

Sometimes it’s difficult, with her soft brown hair like her father’s and big beautiful eyes the same color as yours. “Well, some days, we do exactly that, and other days she doesn’t want to sleep or she’s sick and driving me crazy, so then I normally see the inside of the pillow into which I’m screaming,” you say quickly, flashing them a cheesy grin.

JJ snorts. It’s been a while, but she remembers the feeling well. “Did Spence tell you what we’re doing today?”

Shaking your head, you glance toward where Spencer’s standing in the kitchen, gathering ingredients together that seem to be for tonight’s dinner. “Paint and wine class,” he says proudly. “After I saw you painting Charlotte’s nursery, I knew it had to be done eventually.”

“Aww, you’re so romantic, I love you.” You swoon and run to kiss him, blushing as the girls ooh and ahh over Spencer’s sweet gesture. He’s your everything in every way. “Call me if you need anything, okay?”

Spencer takes her from your arms and looks down to talk to her, shaking her little hand with his fingers. “We’ll be okay, right? You won’t kill me?”

Laughing, you grab your purse off the counter and give him another kiss before leaving with the girls. It’s been ages.

--

Thankfully, Dr. Obel cleared you a while ago for the occasional cup of coffee or glass of wine, despite still breastfeeding, so you nurse the hell out of a glass of red at the painting party. Besides you, Emily, Tara, JJ and Penelope, there are four other women there that know each other and are much less animated. In other circumstances, you might feel bad about being so loud and laughing like a maniac, but you haven’t had a girls’ day out in months, so fuck it.

At these classes, they always have someone teaching and a specific painting is chosen ahead of time. After a while of listening to the instructor, you paint what she’s painting, but at your speed and adding little flourishes here and there. While most of the ladies have basic paintings (because admittedly they’d rather be drinking than painting), you end up with something you’re really happy with.

Shadowed pine trees sit on a moonlit lake, stars, trees and the moon alike mirrored in the lake’s surface in a myriad of colors. Bob Ross is one of your biggest influences when it comes to painting, and by the end, it feels like you’ve done him proud. “Damn, Y/N!” Emily says, taking the last sip of her third (and last) glass of wine. “Spencer said you could paint, but that’s fucking spectacular!”

All the ladies, and even the instructor, praise your work. At first, you deny it and tell them it’s not all that, but eventually you allow yourself the praise. Something you’re working on. “Ladies, this was amazing. Can we make this like an every other month thing? Every third month?”

“Hell, yea,” Penelope says, quickly picking up one of the hors d'oeuvres and shoving it into her mouth. “Man, thith iz gud.”

“Sewiously, I ‘eed the recipe,” Tara replies with her mouth equally full.

The subway ride back to your apartment is filled with random girl talk and lots of baby talk. Everyone wants to know Charlotte’s milestones and to see every single picture you’ve ever taken, which is already a lot given she’s less than a year.

Upstairs, you all walk in just as Charlotte needs a diaper change. When Emily and Tara offer to take dirty diaper detail, you just smile and sink into the couch. You’re not about to argue with just a little extra time off mom duty.

“Well, this was amazing,” JJ says, running her finger down Charlotte’s cheek. “You guys need anything? All set on food and stuff?”

“Yea, JJ,” Spencer replies. “We’re all good. For now.”

Once the ladies leave, you gather Charlotte close to your chest and lift your shirt. The time away refueled your batteries and you sigh happily when she begins to eat.

“Have a good time?” Spencer asks. You point back to the painting which is propped against the wall near the door. “That’s beautiful!”

“Thanks, babe. And thanks for the surprise. It was really nice to have a girls’ day.”

Spencer’s hand sits around your shoulder, his fingers slipping delicately into your hair. “I’m glad you had a good time. I have my girls right here.”

“Did you two fare okay?”

He nods and you both sit in silence for a moment. You lean into him, content and relaxed. The peaceful atmosphere allows your mind to wander and when you mind wanders, it tends to walk into dirty territory; today is no different. “Hey, Spence, I have what might seem like a weird question.”

“Shoot.”

“Have you ever thought about you know, maybe doing that wonderful thing you do with your hands while getting a firsthand taste of breast milk?”

Immediately, his pants tighten. “I hate the fact that it has been a consistent thought since your  boobs grew, yea. Definitely thought about it. Like I don’t wanna sit here and have you feed me or anything, but like...a little taste? Yea.”

“Wanna maybe give it a go later?”

A smile is all the answer you need.

---

Later that night, once Charlotte is finally asleep, you and Spencer practically trip into your bedroom, peeling off clothing like you’re in a nudist colony.

Spencer groans appreciatively when you jump into his arms and peel off your shirt and bra. He carries you toward the bed and plops you down onto the mattress unceremoniously, laughing as he wriggles you out of your leggings.

When he descends upon you, eyes hungry and hands frenzied, your smile fades into a lust-filled gaze that has Spencer nipping at your neck and chin and lips. “God, you’re gorgeous,” he mumbles against you, honeyed voice running deliciously up your spine. For a moment you get in your head; you don’t feel gorgeous as of late, still a ways away from your pre-baby body, but Spencer snuffs that thought out of your head. “Stop thinking and feel.”

“Yes, Sir.”

He slithers his way down your body and licks a stripe up your slit with a flattened tongue, moaning at your taste before slipping two fingers into your sodden pussy. “So wet for me already?”

“Always for you, Sir.”

Spreading your legs with his hands, he crawls back up, nipping and biting and sucking at any and every patch of skin that pleases him. And all you have to do is lay back and enjoy it and he calls you his good girl.

When he latches onto your nipple, the tug on your breast is similar but the feeling is altogether different. The way he rolls his tongue over your nipple causes you to arch into him, gathering his hair in your hand and pushing him closer. Every time he nips at your nipples, bringing them to taut peaks, it shoots straight to your core and you buck into his hand. “So wet, Sir.”

“Does this get you off, love?”

“Mmmhmm.”

“Excuse you,” he says, immediately stilling his fingers.

“Yes, Sir.”

“Why?”

“Because it feels wrong. Taboo.”

“And that gets you off?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“My dirty girl.”

Switching from nipple to nipple, never leaving one untouched for too long, his fingers stroke at that sensitive spot inside you. You buck down into his hand and reach between you, slipping your hands into his pants to stroke softly at his hardening cock. “Come for me, Y/N,” he breathes, his palm sitting heavily on your clit. “I want you to come for me.”

His words ignite a fire inside you, white hot light bursting before your eyes as he latches onto your nipple one last time. “Fuck, Sir,” you laugh shakily, stroking his cock harder and faster. “Now, come for me. I need to see you.”

Spencer bites down on your lower lip and pulls away, hissing through clenched teeth as his orgasm starts to roll over him. “That’s it, baby. Harder. Keep going.”

All you can hear over the sound of your movements, wet and slick and rough, is the rolling growl that leaves Spencer’s mouth when he comes in your hand and over both your stomachs. “Shit.”

“Have fun?”

“Yes,” he laughs, exhaustedly collapsing at your side. “You feeling okay? You were getting in your head for a second. I could feel it.”

“Yea, still having body issues. But I’m working on it.”

“I have an exercise for you to do. Not physical,” he says quickly. “A self love one. Every morning when we get up, I want you to look in the mirror and say one thing you like about yourself. You can start with things that aren’t physical and then work up to physical.”

A sleepy, content smile spreads across your face. This is the dynamic you always wanted - someone you could rely on in every single way. Even at your lowest, your craziest, your most overwhelmed, Spencer is there for you, telling you how beautiful you are as you drift off in his arms.

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[adamantiline-blog]

I posted 279 times in 2021

100 posts created (36%)

179 posts reblogged (64%)

For every post I created, I reblogged 1.8 posts.

I added 96 tags in 2021

#dream smp - 25 posts

#waite draws shit - 19 posts

#technoblade - 15 posts

#philza - 10 posts

#hbsmp - 7 posts

#hoisin twitter archive - 6 posts

#ill informed sword talk - 4 posts

#my beloved - 4 posts

#hell yeah hell yeah hell yeah - 3 posts

#dream mcyt - 3 posts

Longest Tag: 130 characters

#i think its because i was consuming probably about equal amounts american and british media while i was relearning how to not talk

My Top Posts in 2021

#5

sick and tired of pig/human buff/noodle techno design discourse i wanna know everyone’s takes on what The Fuck is going on with his legs

so like presumably we’ve got red pants/shorts and then the uhhhhhhh chain mail/fishnet/checkered patterned whatever and like either maybe two toned boots or hes got like, leg? warmers? anyways

i feel like, i should be pretty confident that the bottom black part is shoes right?

but

they don’t have any soles????

like, they’re the same as his hands hooves are just out; biblically accurate techno doesn’t wear shoes? you’re telling me this man has 4 distinct leg sections and none of them are shoes? king how many layers of legwarmers do you need?

but

that isn’t fucking all-

id like to direct everyone’s attention back to the “pants”

are they pants? are we sure? because they’re a very similar color to his coat

“but waite, they’re clearly separated from the coat by the trim“

oh are they?? are you fucking sure????  dear reader have you ever noticed that the trim just stops at the front? it doesn’t wrap around

are His PANts attached?!!? To hIS coat? is IT a jumpSUit???

whatisthetruthimlosingitoverhere

716 notes • Posted 2021-08-13 08:27:48 GMT

#4

Taking a quick break from spreading rapier technoblade propaganda to instead spread messer nihachu propaganda

What is a messer?

Its a big knife, just a hugeass fucking knife, sword sized but knife shaped which is the vital distinction. Messer is like literally german for knife.

C!niki should have one and heres why i think that:

German

I think this one is self explanatory

The history of the messer

So basically messers exist to exploit this lil old loophole in 15th century german laws where most people aren't allowed to make or have swords but they are allowed knives. So a messer, in a very "behold a man" sort of way, is technically a knife bc of the construction of the handle and only having the one sharp side. (I think there's more minutia to that distinction but im too lazy to look it up rn, handle, sharp on one side is the broad strokes)

So anyway remember how during the Schlatt administration Niki specifically got her taxes raised n stuff? Now ok hear me out, hc that at some point during that time period Niki also gets disallowed from owning weapons for like, probably similar petty reasons to the taxes so she just, gets a Really Big fucking knife and goes on her merry way.

Knife like cooking like baking? Slice bread in bakery with giant knife?

C!niki is a baker so having her weapon b kind of tangentially culinary is p neat i think. Also the mental image of niki like, serving pie w her Huge Knife amuses me.

In conclusion niki nihachu deserves a giant knife, thank u for coming to my ted talk

1196 notes • Posted 2021-08-12 05:30:42 GMT

#3

So like, the new skin Phil's got on namemc huh? I know that logically probably I should be going buckwild over like is this another death flag? Wings got blown up canon??

But I will be completely honest, I just can't unsee the black as one big shirt and the green as overalls and thats the thing that my brain has latched onto today

1479 notes • Posted 2021-02-24 08:05:22 GMT

#2

"Don't talk to me, or walmart me, or Philza Minecraft, or my dog, or my dog, or my dog, or my dog, or my dog, or my dog, or my dog, or my dog, or my dog, or my dog, or my dog, or my dog, or my dog, or my dog, or my dog ever again" -Techno probably, canon killing the next sorry fucker who tries bothering the tundra cottagecore retirement bois

1862 notes • Posted 2021-01-10 08:17:46 GMT

#1

I love bird mumza as much as the next guy however if there is not enough panda!death goddess art out there I guess I will make it myself.

Well yknow,, shes American so shes got the right to uh, b-bear arms?

3751 notes • Posted 2021-06-05 06:55:33 GMT

Get your Tumblr 2021 Year in Review ���

[riot-control-camp]

eyy so I already know the answers to *most* of the ace questions but! tell me about a character you headcanon as ace! and to make it harder it has to be one we haven't mutually projected onto in our dms :) okay mwah love you worstie

oh jesus christ uhhhh i legit can’t remember how many characters i have that i’ve specifically said give me ace vibes that i haven’t immediately yelled to you about so this is. shockingly difficult lkjgdkfg

not an ace headcanon but i VERY STRONGLY hc tahani and chidi from the good place as arospec especially given their characterization as fixated on having a soulmate? and tahani immediately latching onto chidi and her platonic ideation of him being like “oh he did something nice that obviously means he’s in love with me which means I’M in love with HIM because it’s better than being lonely” which was just. good god such an aro mood at least for my particular brain of internalized arophobia but we’re getting distracted

cycling through the hyperfixations--

hlvrai: i feel like ace bubby hits different?? like. i don’t know why but he SCREAMS queer neurodivergent old man to me. he/him and xe/xem pronouns for xem are my fucking FAVES and he’s ace as well please and thank you <3 

tma: we have talked this to death so no real need, but! jon is canonically ace, i like to think martin is as well, and i flip-flop on my feelings about ace melanie. sometimes i am like “oh my god YES” and then other times i’m not so sure about it

thank you so much for sending an ask! i keep forgetting that i reblog ask games, but thank you for sending in an ask anyway lfjgfgdfgfd

[canyonmoonlily]

| What Goes Up |

live! on tour series

A/N: Here comes the Smut ;)

.....

“Y/N!”

“What?” your entire body lurched upright at the sound of your name. You could hardly see thanks to the blinding sunlight streaming in through the unfamiliar window. You hardly remembered what the hotel you were staying in looked like you’d been so inebriated the night before.

“Alarm!” The same voice that had woken you from your slumber called from beyond the closed door. Oh. It was only then you noticed Immigrant Song by Led Zeppelin was playing very loudly. At first, it had worked great as an alarm but you’d grown used to it and could sleep through it like a pro now.

The voice that had called for you to turn it off must’ve been one of your bandmates. According to your phone, it was already 10:30 am so you might as well start your day. You stretched and moved to get out of bed after turning it off only to find you are, in fact, stark naked.

Oh fuck. Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck.

You hurriedly grab your robe you’d hung on the bathroom door and wrap it around you. You were scared to look in the mirror and see hickies or some indication of promiscuity from the night before. You had nothing against sleeping around, but considering you’d still only ever slept with someone once, you weren’t usually bold enough to sleep with a stranger. Which only means that if you did, in fact, have sex last night it was with someone you knew.

Like Harry.

The last thing you can remember is Harry singing along with George Harrison’s voice as you cried into his chest. Like the emotionally unstable psycho you are! your brain added.

You ripped the metaphorical bandage off and took a glance at yourself in the bathroom mirror only to find no evidence that anyone had touched you the night before. You also didn’t feel sore other than a slight headache. Considering you hardly ate, it took nothing for you to get drunk so hangovers were never really an issue for you.

You feel like you’d know if something had happened the night before. It had been a hot minute since the one and only time you’d had sex before. The only obvious differences in your appearance seems to be the absent of the makeup you’d worn the night before and your clothing. Had Harry taken off your makeup for you? Your chest contracted at the thought of him taking the time to play caretaker to drunk you.

Then you remember the way he’d kissed Kendall the night before, and remind yourself that despite the Game Night events, you were only friends. And that was all you’d ever probably get out with him. You needed to place your mental emphasis on the fact that you had him in your life at all and be grateful for that. There was no point in stringing yourself along on the hopes that one day he’d fall in love with you and the two of you would live some kind of happily ever after. Your life was far from a movie and you were far too old to be entertaining such fantasties anymore.

....

Harry watched you slip out of the green room with a heavy heart. You were like no one he’d ever met before. Last night, with all of your drunken ramblings and your little hands grabbing at his hair, calling him pretty. You had laid with your head in his lap for hours, going on about everything from George Harrison to the inherent good or evil of human nature.

He’d gazed at you adoringly, laughing the night away while the party died downstairs. He’d left Kendall alone but he wasn’t worried about her, she knew he didn’t love her. It was purely a publicity stunt, as always.

Harry shouldn’t love y/n. He knows this. Columbia records was considering signing a deal with your band, a major one that would launch your group even further into music stardom. You’d only released one album, and already had a huge fan base. Harry’s opinion the matter was of great value to the record label, and he’d been given specific instructions not to go and “make any unprofessional or romantic connections with the three of those girls.”

Harry had agreed to those terms, but that was before he knew you.

The first time you stepped into the pre-tour production meeting room he thought he was going to vomit. You’d all stumbled in late, being scolded by your manager, John. You hadn’t noticed Harry was even in the room.

You were slightly shorter than average, with all of the right curves and long, golden hair down to your waist. You donned an old Ben Folds Five tshirt and high waisted denim. You couldn’t seem to keep your hair out of your face. Your bandmates looked pained every five seconds as you whispered what was clearly absolute nonsense into their ears throughout the meeting. The way your eyes sparkled with mischeif, your unabashed goofiness nearly smacked him out of his chair. You were nothing like what he expected when he’d been told he’d be touring with an all girl band. You were the most alive thing in the room.

He knew why you were upset. It was because Kendall was wrapped around him like a fucking sloth after tonight’s show in Cleveland.

His feet didn’t consult with his mind before he found himself following your fleeting figure.

“Y/n!” He called.

You stopped dead in your tracks, refusing to look back at him.

“What is it, Harry?” Your sweet voice was a bit hoarse.

“Where are you going?” Harry’s voice was small, reminding you of your younger brothers back at home. You felt the cold armor you’d wrapped around your heart bend a little.

“To bed.” You responded simply.

“Listen, Kendall and I...it’s not—“

“Harry I didn’t ask. You don’t know me an explanation.”

“I do, though. What happened after game night—“

“—doesn’t need to be talked about it again. I’ve already erased it from my mind. Your secret is safe.”

“Secret? Y/n what the hell are you going on about?” Harry’s voice broke a bit, at that you finally turned to face him.

“I know you probably don’t want her to find out about that—or anyone to for that matter. It wasn’t very professional of us.” The shining of tears on your face took Harry by surprise, as you’d melt your words void of all emotion.

“Y/n I don’t give a shit about her!” Harry nearly yelled. “Well, no, I do care about her but not in that way.”

You narrow your eyes at him. “Then why are you two making out every time I see you together? Harry, you’re not making me feel any better.”

“It’s a stunt. It’s for publicity. To keep the paps entertained.”

“Oh.”

“I....y/n, these last few months we’ve spent...” Harry can feel himself getting choked up as he struggles to meet your eyes. When he does, you can see he’s fighting back tears and you don’t know what you expect him to say next. “I think—no. I know that I am in love with you.”

Your breath gets caught in your throat. The skin tight, bell bottom jumpsuit you’re wearing seems to be 100000x tighter than you remember it being a few hours ago.

“You don’t have to say it back, you don’t owe me anything, I—shit. Shit I’m sorry.” His chin is wobbling now and the world’s biggest rock star is falling apart right before your eyes. But in a second, your lips are on his before the first tear can fall.

His whole body caves into yours, pulling you closer then you think you’ve ever been held in all of your 22 years on this planet. Your hands find his hair as his lips move in sync with your own. They’re soft and sweet and suddenly the only language you know how to speak. He is clinging to you like a man starved, though you know he is anything but.

“I love you. I thought it was obvious already but, I’ll say it a million times if you need to hear it: I love you. I love you. I love you.” You day in between kisses. Harry pulls away slightly to meet your eyes and can feel himself going cold. “What?” Your brow furrows at his expression.

“I just never want to forget the way you’re looking at me now.”

Then your back is against some nearby wall and his lips are on yours again faster than you can register anything that’s happening. The kiss swells into something more urgent, more passionate than before as your tongues begin their dance. His hands are everywhere, and you forget where yours end and his hair begins.

His lips begin trailing to the underside of your jaw and a moan slips out before you can stop it. He groans a response, and you swear you can feel something hard pressing against your lower stomach. Harry’s entire body has caved into yours, you standing on your tippy toes to press yourself more firmly against his willow-y frame.

“Shit-shit. Harry, someone could see—“ it suddenly dawned on you that you’re just passionately making out with in the middle of the hallway.

“Oh—oh.” Harry’s brows furrow and you see a glint of hurt in his pretty green eyes. You gently cup his face.

“No, I don’t mean it like that!” You whisper yell the reassurance. “You know I’d love to be seen with you. I just, H....I’m insecure about this kind of stuff.”

Amusement paints a pretty smirk on Harry’s face.

“You mean....sex?” He teases and you swear you could wrap your hands around his throat and throttle him if you had another 5 inches of height and actually stood a chance.

“Yes, sex, now come on.” You mock his accent and tug him away from the wall, the two of you giggling like horny teenagers.

...

Within a minute Harry has you pressed up against the door of his private bus. He’s fumbling with the strange lock and kissing you like he’s dying at the same time. You’re floating.

Once the latch clicks into place, your feet leave the ground again and your laid against something soft. The warm lighting is hitting Harry in a sinful way—he looks like the color gold personified and he’s smiling at you like you’re the Sun. He towers over you and you’ve never felt smaller. You start to wrap your arms around yourself but he stops you.

“Just let me look at you for a sec, y/n/n.”

With one last heated look he dives back into you and you’re a mess of tangled limbs again. You can feel his hands ghost over your clothed breasts and his lips ghosting over your neck again.

“God, I can’t get enough of your neck. Ya’ve got tha prettiest neck ‘ve ever seen,” he groans with a grind of his clothed, hard cock into your own clothed heat. You’re making noises you’ve only ever made before that time after Game night. And you know you’re ready to give it all to Harry. Anything he wants from you you’re willing to give.

His hands roughly grope at your breasts and you nearly scream. He’s pulling his shirt off and unzipping the top of your jumpsuit before you can do it again. Harry sucks in a breath of air at the sight of your naked chest.

“God—those tits. Just like I imagined ‘em,” he says before taking a nipple in his mouth, suckling on you like some animal. You whimper under his attention and he stops briefly.

“Angel, is this alright?” Harry looks into your eyes and holds your gaze.

“Yes, yes. T-take what you want from me.” You nod vigorously and submit yourself to him. His response is a growl you feel travel straight down to your core.

He goes back to your breasts, leaving lovebites and growling out the occasional “mine.” His lips trail down to your hips, right above your pelvis as he shimmies the rest of your jumpsuit off your legs.

Then the warmth of his breath is on your pussy and a single kiss is pressed to the front of your lace panties.

“H, you don’t have to—“

“I want to. Please.”

You nod and gulp. At this point, Harry’s seen more of your body than anyone else has and seems to be enjoying it. The only other time you’d had sex all the lights had been off and there was next to know ForPlay.

“I’ve just never had someone—do that.” You offer you an explanation. Harry freezes.

“No one’s ever eaten you out?” He asks incredulously, his head poking up from between your thighs. “What the fuck, why?”

Your cheeks heat up and you suddenly can’t make eye contact with him. “Well my ex, he and I only ever did it one time and he just...didn’t.” Harry nearly chokes on his own breath.

“You’ve one ever had sex once?” his hands are gripping your thighs now and he’s subconsciously moving closer to your face.

“Y-yeah. God this is embarrassing.” Your hands cover your now red face and tears gather in your eyes, lower lip trembling. This is not a conversation you wanted to be having but you also didn’t want to lie to Harry.

He pulls his hands away from your face and nearly crumbles at the sight of your glassy eyes. “No, no. Why is that embarrassing? You have nothing to be embarrassed about.” He coos softly, brushing away any tears that had fallen. You felt so small and seen in his embrace.

“Because I thought that maybe I was the problem? That something about me was ...off so he left me after we...you know.”

Harry audibly scoffed and cradled your face in his hands. “I’ve wanted this, I’ve wanted you for so long,” His voice is gruff and honest. “There is no one I’d rather be with right now. And that idiot ex of yours is a fucking madman because you’re never getting rid of me after tonight.”

You kiss him and feel something in your chest ache in an almost foreign way. You didn’t know you could feel like this. He kisses you back harder and the heat between you builds again. His hand cups your lace covered pussy and rubs gently over your clit and you jolt. His lips trail back down to your heat and before you can register what is happening his nose is pressed against your mound and inhaling you like some meal. A growl resonated in his chest and he begins tugging your underwear down your legs.

His tongue delves into your folds gently, teasingly. He finds his way to your clit and then sucks the breath from your lungs. You go pigeon toed and nearly scream at his assault on your most private area. You’re making noises that feel foreign as they leave your mouth but Harry laps them up along with your heat. He’s growling and letting out little sweet comments about how good you taste and you don’t know how you’re going to ever look at him without blushing again.

“H, H I’m close,” you whine out, little body shaking under the weight of his arms holding your torso down. Your hips are bucking up wildly but Harry is comepletely unbothered, giving no indication that he’d heard you at all. It isn’t until he sucks un your clit with a new vigor that he makes his intentions clear.

You’re screaming, toes curling, his name falling from your lips so loudly you’re sure everyone in the stadium can hear you. You’re fucked and you don’t even care, Harry’s cooing in your ear as tears fall from your eyes, descending from your high. He pulls your body into his and whispers sweet nothings in your ear until you come back to reality.

“Are ye alright, angel? We could just go to sleep?” Harry asks gently, warm breath in your ear.

“No, no. I want you. I’m just a little overwhelmed because no ones ever...he didn’t... make me you know.” Your face is heating up again.

“Why are you still talking about sex to me like we’re in middle school, y/n?” He laughs loudly. “I just spent the last 10 minutes face first in your pussy. You can say the word orgasm around me.”

You can’t help but laugh but also swing an arm around to sock him in the chest but he catches your hand and steals your breath with a kiss. His hands slide up the smooth expanse of your back and he straddles you, caging you to the end with his body.

You buck your hips into his, a hand snaking down to palm his rock hard member through his briefs. It feels, much larger than you anticipated. He growls and ruts against your hand like an animal.

“Please, Harry...” your eyes are hazy with desire as they meet his nearly blackened ones. He whips his briefs off and settles himself at your entrance.

“Are you sure? You’ll be stuck with me after this.” He half joked, looking into your eyes with a choking intensity.

“I’ve never been more sure. Please.”

He lets out a loud cry at the feeling of your heat around him and you’re whimpering uncontrollably at the intrusion. But you love it, God it hurts but you love it. Harry had not prepared himself for how tight you would be. It was like bedding a Virgin. Your ex must not have been well endowed, Harry thought.

Harry can’t believe how good you feel, and he’s never been particularly loud, but he’s crying out with every movement. You’re trembling beneath him, whimpering and yelping. Both of you just consumed with the other. You take his hand and place it around your throat, and his eyebrows shoot up in an expression of utter shock. He grips your throat in his hand and builds speed quickly. Milking his cock in your tight heat.

“You feel so fucking good. You’re mine now, mine.” He growls through clenched teeth as his hips snap into yours. You’re practically in tears.

“Yours. Yours yours yours.” His cock has reduced you to a weeping echo chamber.

When the two of you climax it is like the clash of a symphony and he collapses into your body, holding you closer to him than anyone’s held you before.

As you drift off in his arms, one nagging thought plagues you,

What the fuck were you going to tell your bandmates?

[mfingenius]

Reading Tag Meme

Thanks for tagging me: @practicefortheheart and @theoneindenial

1. hardcover or paperback - Ahh okay so I love hardcover bc they get damaged less easily but also paperback has just such a fucking elegance idk how to describe it 

2. rent or buy - even if i didn’t like a book i seriously cannot NOT have it. If i read it it’s a part of me now

3. reads in silence or reads with music 

4. standalone or series - series was basically all I read in the past but now i’m going through a standalone phase

5. annotations or pristine pages - if you write in one of my books I’ll HATE you

6. e-book or physical copy 

7. dog ears or bookmarks - if you use dog ears on a book i leant you I’ll HATE you

8. mismatched series or complete set 

9. cover matters or you don’t judge - obviously i’m not going to NOT buy a book if i don’t like its cover but i’m definitely more into books with nice covers

10. lend books or keep them to yourself - but only to specific people :))

11. reads reviews or goes in blind - I always back out if I read reviews bc my brain latches onto the bad ones

12. unreturned books or clean library record

13. rereads or once was enough - I read books once and remember most words of them but i love some enough to reread them

14. fanfic enthusiast or a stickler for canon - probably depends on how satisfied I was with canon but i generally love fanfiction

15. deep reader or easily distracted - I’m both

16. must read the book before seeing the movie or order doesn’t matter 

17. has neat bookshelves or messy bookshelves -  sort of hehe

18. skips ahead or resists temptation - i fucking HATE spoilers they’ll literally ruin the entire thing for me

19. reads aloud or in your head 

20. guesses plot twists or never sees them coming - I can generally see them coming but there are definitely a few that have come out of fucking NOWHERE and then when i reread and realized all the signs i DIED i love those 

I tag: @baegoalsandcreamcheese @ilovechristopheralexandershaw @rockmarina and anyone who wants to do this <33

[chromemist]

Patrol Nights: 1st Instance

Series: Miraculous Ladybug

Pairing: Vipernette

Rating: straight up nsfw

Warnings: Vouyerism

Inspired by everyone on the LBSC server. I’m probably gonna make more of these. Please take head of the warnings. If you don’t like it, you are in no way obligated to read it. If you do read it, enjoy it! Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated.

Viperion and Chat Noir both lighted on the rooftop at the same time, a soft sshink coming from Chat’s baton as he retracted it. Viperion looked over at the young cat and sighed. Chat Noir had the same pinched look on his face the entire night, and Viperion was really starting to get tired of it. He had hoped that after four years of watching the cat superhero get turned down, he’d grow up and get a clue. But even after all this time, Hawkmoth mysteriously disappearing, and Chat bragging about a girlfriend, he still wouldn’t give up. While it wasn’t as often and as annoying as it had once been, it still happened.

“Sorry this is boring you Chat. But look on the bright side. No crime!” Viperion tried for a pleasant conversation. Chat Noir only sighed, his shoulders and ears sagging.

“Yeah, it would’ve been a perfect night to talk to Ladybug. No offense Viperion. You’re a great teammate to have in a fight, but I definitely don’t want to be hanging out with you.”

Viperion rolled his eyes and walked to the edge of the building. He leaned on it, facing away from the grumpy cat and took his lyre off his back. He idly strummed it while addressing Chat Noir as calmly as he could.

“Ladybug asked us to patrol for the night. We all have our Miraculous now, and we all need to step up and do our part. It’s not just you and Ladybug anymore.” Viperion heard a rough intake of breath from behind him before Chat joined him at the ledge. “She’s been really stressed out lately. She needs a break. That’s where the rest of us come in. We can give her that moment of rest.”

Chat narrowed his eyes at him. “How can you tell she’s stressed?”

Viperion smiled wryly. “I’m the observant one, remember? It’s my job to watch.” He kept strumming calmly as Chat continued to stare at him. Viperion knew Chat was always worried he or Bunnix would discover Ladybug’s identity before Chat himself found out. Even though Bunnix had yelled at him that ’this wasn’t a competition Chat! We’re your ‘get out of death free’ card’, he still couldn’t shake old habits.

The cat just signed again and shook his head though. “Well anyway, it doesn’t look like anything’s happening. I’m calling it a night.” He said and hopped up on the ledge, preparing his baton to launch himself. He looked over his shoulder at Viperion. “You packing up for the night?”

Viperion considered going back to his apartment briefly. “I think I might stay out a bit longer. It’s a nice night.”

“Ooh? Got anywhere specific you’re going?” Chat wheedled, a smug grin on his face. Viperion snorted in response.

“It’s just nice out, and I don’t want to be inside my apartment right now. But if you’re asking if I have a girlfriend then no. Speaking of though, shouldn’t you be getting back to yours? What’s her name again? Marinette, right?” Viperion tried to keep his emotions in check, tried to keep the jealousy from leaking through. He knew Marinette wasn’t seeing anyone, but he couldn’t help being a tiny bit jealous over how much attention Chat Noir got.

Viperion was an adult. The oldest on the team. He should be past all this petty jealous teenage bull. But yet, whenever Marinette was concerned… ’Eventually I’ll learn my lesson…’ he thought.

“Marinette’s just a friend.” Chat said airley, almost automatically, like he’d said it a million times before. And hasn’t he heard that before? She’s just a friend. We’re only friends. You’re a good friend Luka… Viperion only sighed as Chat gave him his signature two fingered salute and leapt into the night.

Viperion watched him bounce away, the slight irritation ebbing away the farther the cat got. Once Chat Noir was completely gone, Viperion too leapt into the night, his lyre still in one hand. But he didn’t head home, just as he was planning to do. Instead he aimed for a certain bakery. Marinette had been so stressed this week, so stopping in to check on her would probably be welcomed. She liked all the heros well enough. And since Chat wasn’t going to visit her…

Moments later, Viperion quietly landed among all the furniture of Marinette’s balcony. He noticed the skylight above where she kept her bed was open. Thinking she was up and wanted some fresh air, he quietly made his way over, bringing his lyre up in both hands. He was about to start strumming again, to let her know he was there without spooking her, when he stopped dead in his tracks.

A noise, like shuffling sheets, came from the open skylight. ’Maybe she’s asleep already? I don’t want to wake-’ Viperion’s eyes widened behind his mask as another sound floated up from the skylight, completely freezing him in place. A low moan, in Marinette’s sweet, musical voice. ’Maybe she’s in pain?’ he thought, torn between hoping for that and hoping she wasn’t hurt. While he never wanted to wish harm on her, the alternative would be-

“Oooh yes… Right there…” Was quietly moaned and dashed all his hopes of leaving without ever hearing Marinette’s sweet moans of pleasure. In the four plus years of knowing her, he’d heard her make so many different kinds of noises. These though… These he’d always hoped, dreamed, he’d hear face to face, if she ever looked at him as Luka that way. He shouldn’t, couldn’t stay. He needed to leave, give her the privacy she thought she had, and take a very long, very cold shower.

“Luka, please…” Viperion stopped dead in his tracks once more. ’Wait, what?’ He looked down at himself and yeah, his suit was still on. And no one was popping up out of the skylight. Which meant…

’Is.. Is she imagining me?’ His brain screeched to a halt over that thought. Did not pass Go. Did not collect 200 dollars. His head turned without his permission towards the opening though when he heard more shuffling and a longer moan.

“Luka, your hands…” Her breathy voice floated up. His own responded by gripping into the sides of his lyre tightly. The low sound of skin brushing skin met his ears. “I love your rough hands on me. Please touch me?” He heard her beg him in her fantasy.

’I need to leave!’ his mind shrieked at himsekf in his head. The rest of his body was not keen on listening though, as his feet silently led him to the darkened corner where he could peer down at her. ’This is wrong and I’m horrible for staying, why am I staying?’ But his hormones and repressed feelings won out. Viperion knew he’d feel disgusted with himself and incredibly guilty later. But for now… Now he peered over the edge of the skylight, and saw one of the most beautiful sights ever. He brought his lyre up to his mouth and bit into a side to keep from making any noise. Oh, Sass was going to give him so much shit for this…

Moonlight bathed Marinette in it’s light, highlighting just how very naked she was. Her head was turned away from his position, but he could see her one visible eye was closed and her mouth was parted open on another panting moan. Her unbound hair was draped over her pillow and oh how he could write songs just from that view alone. His eyes traveled down her body, and it only got better.

One of her small hands was cupping a breast, rolling the puckered peak between two fingers. As she did, she praised Luka on how well his calloused fingers rubbed her. A jolt of pleasure shot through Viperion’s body and ’well that’s a thing I didn’t know I liked.’ He shifted quietly on his feet, the motion finally bringing attention to his rapidly hardening cock. Oh yeah, Sass was definitely going to give him shit for this.

Another low moan from Marinette brought his attention back to her. Viperion chewed on the curved tip of the lyre as his eyes followed her other hand, down her body. She splayed her fingers over her belly and slowly dragged them down, though dark curls, and gently pushed one thigh apart from the other. Viperion swallowed hard as her other thigh dropped open, baring her completely to him. She ran her hand lightly up and down her inner thigh, fingertips just barely teasing a fold. Desire coursed through him as he listened to Marinette plead with him, with Luka, to touch her.

“Please Luka, please touch me there. I can’t take much more of this!”

’Neither can I.’ He answered in his head.

Marinette moved her fingers down slowly, until finally pushing into her lips. She groaned out a yes and her back arched beautifully as she dipped her fingers into her waiting hole. Viperion almost moaned out loud when he heard the wet squelching noise coming from between her legs. Marinette pumped her fingers a few times, coating the digits liberally. She moved her now soaked fingers up to her clit, taking it between her thumb and pointer and rubbing. She tossed her head back, facing straight up. Her eyes still clenched shut thank God for that and her mouth opened wide, she panted and whined for him. She swirled her fingers around herself while her other hand gripped her breast tightly.

Viperion always imagined he’d go slow and gentle with her if he ever got the chance. He wanted to show her how much he loved and cared for her in every way possible. But if she wanted it a little rough as well, he would absolutely do that for her. One hand let go of his lyre and immediately latched onto the prominent bulge in his suit. He squeezed himself, hoping that he wouldn’t make any noise to alert her of her audience.

“Luka, I need more. Please, I need your cock in me!”

Pure lust slammed into him and he squeezed his throbbing member hard, trying to stave off the orgasm that wanted to rip through him. Never had he ever heard Marinette say anything remotely nasty or use actual cuss words. But here she was, pleading for him to ’fuck me with your hard cock.’ He was going to die of blood loss to the brain. Sass was going to have to apologize for him. He knew she had only been Multimouse a handful of times, but she knew what a kwami was. She could take his Miraculous off his dead body and give it back to Ladybug.

Viperion was brought back to the present as he watched her release her chest and, reaching back up under the pillow, brought out a very familiar shape. ’Oh shit, yes baby please.’ he encouraged in his mind as she dragged the toy down her body. She moved her fingers from her clit to spread her folds apart. He bit the lyre even harder as she first teased her wet hole. She dragged the tip from her hole, to her clit, and back, before pushing only the head inside.

Viperion inhaled sharply at the same time as Marinette, her back arching again as she lightly pumped the tip in and out. “Please don’t tease me!”

’Only if you’re good.’ came unbidden in his head, surprising himself at the thought.

“I’ll be good, I promise Luka!” She cried, startling Viperion badly, thinking he had said that out loud. But the lyre was still stuffed in his mouth, and she had said Luka’s name. A quick check confirmed her eyes were still closed, still lost in her fantasy. Viperion let out a slow breath of relief. He felt like a cold bucket of water had been dumped over him. Maybe that was a sign that it was time to go.

But before he could move away, she cried out his name loudly, followed by “ah, that’s so good!” His eyes snapped back to her. Her head was tossed to the side again, her chest heaving with labored breaths. Her hips rotated back and forth along with the dildo now buried inside her. Marinette cried out again as she pulled it halfway out, before pushing it back in.

“Faster Luka, faster!” She pleaded. Her hand obeyed, pumping the toy in and out of her at an increased rate. She took her clit between her fingers again and squeezed in time with her thrusts. Marinette cried out and moaned loudly as her hips rose off the mattress, her toes curling in the sheets. “Almost… Almost…”

Viperion once again had to squeeze himself in order to stop himself from cumming just as her orgasm hit her. Her choked off moan ended in her sighing out his name once more in reverent bliss. He could see the pleasurable shudders still wracking her body as she milked herself through the last dregs of her orgasm.

’Time to go!’ he thought as she lowered her body and her eyes began to open. Quietly and quickly as he could, Viperion made it to the edge of her balcony and inelegantly launched himself to the next rooftop. Running along the rooftops of Paris with a hard-on was not an experience he thought he’d have, and never wanted it again .

He barely made it back to his apartment, thanking his lucky stars he was able to afford a place by himself. Viperion barreled through his open balcony doors before slamming it and his blinds closed.

“Sass, scales rest!” He cried out while running down the hallway to his bathroom. As the light around him faded, Luka kept running, shucking off his clothes as he went. “Not a word Sass!” He yelled before slamming the bathroom door closed.

Sass was definitely, definitely going to give him shit for this. But only after Luka was satiated. It wasn’t until sometime later, much, much later that Luka emerged from the bathroom. He was very tempted to just go to his room and pass out after all his exertion, but the quiet apartment unnerved him just a little. Sass was a very quiet kwami, but even he made noise. So, tugging up his boxers, Luka went in search of his little snake friend.

Thankfully, Luka found him quickly, sitting in the kitchen counter and taping at Luka’s cell phone screen. The little kwami flicked his eyes up at his holder as Luka came into the room and grinned, fangs on full display.

“Not tonight Sass. I’m still punch drunk from what happened. Not a word please?” He asked.

“I would not dream of it, masssster.” Sass replied. Luka smiled in gratitude and turned to head to his bedroom. But before he could get too far, he heard the tap of a flipper against the screen and music suddenly filled the room.

Well your faith was strong but you needed proof

You saw her bathing on the roof

Her beauty and the moonlight overthrew ya

“SASS!”

“I did not sssay anything!”

[maknaesdancersrappers]

Attempt #10: Surprise them with gifts

<< the ninth attempt

wc: 1.9k

warning/s: female masturbation

When you found out that your mom extended her stay abroad because your dad was docked there for a few days, you were a little grateful because Jaehyun’s dad was out for work, too, and his mom was visiting family in the province. Jaehyun was out working at his part time jobs so you were essentially alone. After making sure no one was next door, you go into your bedroom and pull out the box Yebin gave you last year. 

It’s been months since you last used this; you didn’t have much privacy since you don’t really keep to yourself and it always raises suspicion when your door is locked. You dust the box off and opened it, revealing the contents inside: the 6-inch silver bullet vibrator and a smaller box that’s still wrapped.

“Cheers to self-love.” scrawled over the wrapping in Yebin’s handwriting. 

You pick it up and tear right down her little message, throwing the paper aside and inspecting Yebin’s recent gift. It was a love egg that had 10 speeds and patterns, and was controlled by an app you had to install on your phone. 

This is the only time you can try it out. You’ve only done this twice. It helped you get through the hormonal stage of your PMS.

You take it out of its’ box and went to the bathroom to clean it. Once it was clean, you put it down on a towel to dry while you stripped your panties off. Honestly, you liked going commando at home. You would wear a sundress or a large, loose shirt (sometimes you’d wear shorts under them) and forego any undergarments. You picked up the small bottle of lube you bought online, along with journaling items to hopefully hide it in case someone sees the receipt, grabbed the vibrator after patting it down, and returned to your bed.

After installing the app on your phone, you sat in the middle, with your back resting against the headboard, and pulled the skirt of your dress up to your waist. Parting your legs, you sigh when the air touches your pussy and you involuntarily clench at nothing.

When you masturbated before, you just focused on feeling good. There was no imagining of a man handling you, just you making yourself feel good. However when you tentatively touched your clit with the tips of your fingers, your mind flies to how Jaehyun’s hands felt; how the pad of his fingers are calloused but his palms were soft. 

You mewled at the thought, although you knew it was wrong to think of Jaehyun — your best friend — like that. You’re starting to get wet, your slick covering your fingertips as you card them through your labia. At this point, you don’t think you’ll need the lube. You want to stop thinking about Jaehyun, but every time you chant it in your head, your mind disobeys and you remember all the times he’s been shirtless around you. 

“Oh god.” You cried out, plunging two fingers inside of you. You push down the shirred bodice of your dress down and cupped your breast, giving it a hard squeeze.

“Fuck it.” You whined, letting your inhibitions go and your imagination run wild. It’s not like Jaehyun would know you were thinking about him; specifically his fingers, plunging in and out of you, making that squelching sound, or how it would feel to touch his abs. You moaned, your hands practically moving on their own and speeding up.

You hated how your brain just suddenly reminded you about that light dusting of hair he had that trailed down beneath his cute little outie belly button, making the room seem too hot despite the air conditioning blasting above you. 

Honestly speaking, you and Yebin have had this conversation with Jungwoo. Yebin was brash and Jungwoo was blithe; you don’t know how the conversation turned south — literally — and Jungwoo had described each of the guy’s dicks very vividly from what he could remember when they had to shower in the locker rooms after gym.

It should have been concerning to you as to why Jungwoo was looking in the first place — more so, stared long enough to remember each one so clearly. Now your brain is letting those memories resurface, letting you visualize your best friend’s cock. You bite down on your lip, just thinking about how much he could stretch you more than your fingers or vibrator can.

You pull your fingers out of you and grab the love egg, turning it on and syncing it to the app on your phone. You take the vibrator that’s not bigger than your palm and pushed it through your entrance, jaw dropping at how easily it slipped in, until it was completely swallowed up by your pussy and left the little thin strap dangling out. You wait a few seconds to adjust to it before grabbing your phone and starting up the app. You press the power button and it starts out with light buzz, almost tickling your walls. There’s a plethora of options of patterns, intensity, and combinations, but your eyes zoomed in on the icon that read ‘Randomized.’

When you pressed it, it asked how long and gave 5 options, ranging from 5 minutes to an option that read manual. You opted for that, dropping the phone on the mattress when the vibrations grew a tad stronger. “Oh my god.”

You push yourself down the bed so you could lie down properly, latching your hands around your breasts and tweaking your nipples. Your mind is clouded with lust, the little speck of reserve you had left about jacking off to Jaehyun was out the window. You’re a moaning mess, trying to contain the lewd noises by biting back down on your lip. Planting down your feet against the sheets, you push your hips up as if you’re trying to meet someone’s thrusts. 

“Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck.” You can feel yourself about to cum, releasing one of your boobs to rub your clit.

“[Y/N]? Are you home?”

You’ve never moved so fast in your life; eyes snapping wide open and hands prying themselves off your body. You push your dress back up your chest while trying to grab your phone to turn the vibrator off but you can hear his footsteps coming closer and you accidentally pushed it off the bed instead while fixing your sleeves. Fortunately, the vibrations went down to soft buzz; and you toss the lube under the bed before running to the ajar door.

“Jaehyun!” You exclaimed, squeezing your body between the door and its frame. 

“[Y/N]? I thought you were out with Yebin. Are you okay?”

The love bullet starts to pulsates and you force out a grin, “Y-yeah, I was taking a nap and I, uh, had a nightmare.”

He nods slowly, looking like he understood as to why you were so flustered and sweating.

“What are you doing in my house?” You cleared your throat, trying to maintain your composure.

“Oh. I was planning to surprise you. I used the emergency keys your mom gave me.”

Your mom what— “Well, I’m very... surprised.”

Jaehyun grins, “No, wait. Come with me.”

He grabs your hand and all you can think about is how he’s holding the hand that had two of your fingers that were deep inside of you just moments ago while you jacked off to the thought of him. You wanted to tell him to wait for a second so you could go back into your room and turn the damn thing off, but the words leave you when he takes you to the living room.

There’s a vase of flowers you were very sure wasn’t there before and a small box of cupcakes from your favorite bakery. “You liked the gardenias so I got you some and I passed by the bakery after work and thought I’d get some as well.”

You inhaled sharply, the love egg suddenly spiking into a very harsh vibration. “Ohh, Jae.” That sounded so close to being inappropriate, “You didn’t have to—”

Your body flinches at the pattern change, making your grip around his hand tighten.

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

You vehemently nodded your head, “Uh huh, I just— the nightmare was pretty intense.” like the throbbing of your very core as your climax approaches.

“Hey, it’s okay. I’m right here.” Jaehyun pulls you into a hug and you don’t know whether it’s a good thing because your knees almost gave in so you used him as support. You hated, however, that you inhaled his scent; and it wasn’t the scent he smelled like when he got out of the shower, or his deodorant working when he’s sweating. It was that distinct scent he naturally had and it’s invading your nostrils and fueling your hormones. When his hands soothed your back and he kisses the top of your head, like he always does when he comforts you, that was when you lost it; gripping onto the back of his shirt for dear life as your orgasm hits.

You still do your best to keep your composure, keeping your breath steady unlike your heart beat that was running wild. The love egg is still buzzing and you need to take it out now; you already came in Jaehyun’s arms without him knowing and you can’t guarantee he’ll still be in the dark about it if another hits you. Pulling away, you sighed as nonchalantly as you can, hoping he doesn’t look down to see the evidence of your climax dripping down your legs.

“Thanks.”

Jaehyun pats your head, “You’re a little warm and red, [Y/N]. Maybe you’re coming down with something.”

“Uhm, yeah, maybe I am. I should… get some more rest.”

“Do you want me to tuck you?”

Your mind is so clouded and still high from climax that you swore you heard him say ‘fuck’, but you gasp from the love egg picking up pace again and swat Jaehyun’s arm, “I’m not ten! I’ll be fine. I-I would have loved to share the cupcakes with you a-and thank you for the flowers.”

He shrugs his shoulders, “Don’t mention it. I just—”

His phone beeps and when he checks it out, he lets out a groan. “Jay’s made a mess in the living room again.”

“Should I be regretting giving him to you?” You shift your weight between your legs, which helped with your shaky stance, but not the impending second wave of your climax. 

“No! Don’t ever. I love him.” Jaehyun laughs, “I’ll go now, see you later. Oh, and I think there’s a bee in here somewhere. I swear I can hear it.”

“I’ll take care of it, ha ha ha... ha.” You stood in place, waving your hand at him as he leaves your apartment. As soon as he closes the door behind him, you drop to your knees and pulled the love egg out. “Oh, god.”

It continues to vibrate on the floor, minutely spinning as it does. Guilt, shame, and relief washes over you all at the same time when you reprocessed what had just happened. You fucking masturbated to your best friend and he held you, without knowing what was going on, when you came undone from his touch and scent. You feel gross, grabbing the egg and standing back up to head back into your room to turn it off. You discard it on the bed and grab the other vibrator, shamelessly deciding to finish off the second orgasm in the shower.

a/n: the surprise gift here was actually the orgasm :--) loljk 

the eleventh attempt >>