#thank you for indulging me!

[losersimonriley]

hi hey hello hi i LOVE that lil excerpt of ur ocs

Oh my g o d this made my night ;-; Thank you! I’m obsessed with them <3 Have some first meeting dialogue

[that-was-anticlimactic]

haii!! 🦅💞⛔🎶

🦅 do you outline fics or fly by the seat of your pants?

as a teacher who actively tells kids to outline and helps then outline, i Should outline more... my outlining usually takes the form of "i'm going to write the fic out of order and in the parts that i know i want to have written" lol like... my tractor fic... i just wrote whatever came to mind in whatever order so i wouldn't forget what i wanted to include lol or like i'll leave notes in my fic that i usually forget about so after i post it, i'll see lines like "make dazai leave to talk to his boyf" which is what happened in my big kenji fic ijuhgyfgvhuji

💞 who's your comfort character?

okay well always and forever my boy kyan reki <333 he is so so so special to meeeeee!!! but recently it's been kenji (oh wow everyone is soooooo surprised). i also have a huge soft spot for writing tachihara and jun'ichirou... they're Very fun to write for <333 and sometimes i just really wanna squeeze kunikida in the most gentle way possible <333 but yeah! reki & kenji <333 (in case you couldn't tell based on the fact that most of my bsd fics are kenji-centric lol)

⛔ do you have a fic you started, but scrapped?

god SO MANY!!! the first one that comes to mind is a doc that's just titled "kenji ow". idk what it was supposed to be about. i have like 140 words and i think it was created bc my body was in lots of pain so my brain went "well if i have to hurt, so does kenji <3" lol

i also have a bsd wip that's titled something like "chuuya pretends to kidnap kenji to piss dazai off" and like. it is what it sounds like oiugyftgyhuij i have over 1k written but i don't think i will ever write anymore bc WHAT IS THAT IUYGVHJK

🎶 do you listen to music while you write? what song have you been playing on loop lately?

i actually don't usually! i'm not great at reading or writing with music playing or sound on, so i don't usually do it. but sometimes i can!!! like if the song vibes help me write or if i feel like i don't know the song well enough! i wrote a tachihara fic for grace's birthday last year and we always use titles from songs the other knows for birthday fics, so i was listening to noah kahan bc we were going to go to one of his concerts and i barely knew him, and listened to "dial drunk" on repeat for awhile! except i thought the post malone version was the og version so it was that one. oops. but the latest one i listened to a lot was "if i loved you" from "nerdy prudes must die" for my kunichuu fic if i loved you like i'm capable of bc VIBES were hardcore and i had been stuck with writer's block for MONTHS so i was SCRAPING for inspo lol anyways everyone listen to if i loved you - it's a kunichuuzai song & a bsd thesis song <333

[angels-heap]

48, 69, 72, 74 for the fanfic writing asks ^^

[Questions from this post.]

48. Who is your favorite character to write for? Has this changed since you’ve started writing for that fandom?

I'd say I enjoy writing for Alyx and Barney more or less equally, but for different reasons. Writing Alyx feels more personally meaningful, but Barney's a little more fun (and arguably easier, since his speaking voice and mannerisms are more similar to my own). And despite the fact that I wrote that one Barney-centric fic back in 2012, I definitely did not (re)enter the HL fandom expecting to enjoy writing for him as much as I do now.

69. What are your favorite fics at the moment?

My AO3 bookmarks function as an eternal rec list, but if I have to be more specific, I recently re-read Promise by glitterbrain and it is still living rent-free in my brain. I also recently stumbled across About that Beer by Reiji_Neko_Mitsukai and I think it deserves a shoutout as well! We are so starved for long(-ish), character-focused, mostly gen HL fics that make adequate use of the more mind-bending aspects of canon, and this fic has all that and more.

72. What’s your favorite writing compliment you’ve gotten?

Hmm, I can think of quite a few that stand out in my memory, but all are equally cherished for very different reasons. <3 In general, it's wild (but very flattering) to hear that people still look forward to reading my new chapters/fics even though my updates have been inconsistent at best for the last few years. I also love when people say my writing made them cry. :)

(Now, on the other hand, if anyone wants to know about the worst feedback I've ever received on my writing, I have a very specific answer in mind.)

74. Do you have a fic you wish got a bit more love?

Yes, and I'm gonna cheat and give two answers for this one. As HL fics go, Deep One Perfect Morning is one of my favorites and I'm not sure why it never got as much love as my other freehoun stuff (not sexy enough, maybe?), so here it is if anyone wants to check it out.

I'm also very proud of Presque Vu (Disco Elysium), even though it was doomed to obscurity from day one for the crime of being a short gen fic with unappealing tags.

[0nelittlebirdtoldme]

To be honest, I don't know too much about Dracula × Jonathan, but I would like to know what is your favorite headcanon about them?

Thank you so much for the ask! 🖤 Totally fair, that pair can be tricky to get into, but yeah, my favorite headcanon? How could i ever decide??

Well, the one I most often use in writing is probably the height difference (with Drac being a head taller than Jonathan and twice his weight).

I also have Dracula pinned as being ambidextorous and a polyglot (among these languages would be Romanian, Russian, Czech, English, French, German and Latin) and Jonathan, being entirely impressed by these talents but trying not to show it, despite definitely finding them terribly attractive (voice and competence kink, hello??).

[patrice-bergerons]

Specific assumption based on your fic? You get emotionally attached to inanimate objects.

give me specific assumptions you have about me based off of my fanfic

Now whatever gave you that idea HAHAHAH but also FR -- even my mugs and tea cups each hold a specific place in my heart for different reasons and there is one or two where i would legit cry were they to break 😆

[booksandabeer]

🎂

EM!!!! CAKE? For me???? 😍😍😍

Thank you so much. Now get yourself a plate, I'm sharing my commemorative "First-Block-Cake" with you, of course!

💚 💚💚

[luveline]

orchid— when you're being extremely quiet, what are you typically thinking of?

and then cosmos? best compliment you’ve received?

please :) because i think somebody who seems as lovely as you has probably gotten some really sweet compliments

flower ask game ♡

orchid — I think this would be a tie between writing and things I have to do. I'm generally a quiet person, and lately I've been thinking about writing non stop because I've thankfully had the time for it, but usually it's likely I'm worrying about things I have to do, I'm not super relaxed ha

cosmos — you complimented me in your question! ♥ you're lovely. I think the best compliments I've recieved have been either on my poetry or, my probably very favourite, is I got one before that said I must have a very big heart and that my writing was indicative of the way I love. I thought that was beautiful and very generous!

[alvfr]

for the anon ask game: im curious about your highschool experience, what is your favorite scent and besides all the wips you have now, what other project would you wish to work on?

Okay so I actually had to move out to start high school (I’m from a small isolated village in the Arctic, we had to move 5 hours away to attend high school) and being from a small town and then suddenly living in a city and attending school where there were hundreds of students instead of 30, this was the first time I actually had a choice about who I wanted to hang out with. So basically the first time I felt like I had actual friends who wanted to be friends with me because of me. It was pretty good, actually, even if I struggled with attendance (because I was 16 and living on my own and an insomniac), and I got decent grades and went to parties and all that jazz.

I was sort of infamous at school I later found out, and a lot of people that didn’t know me found me intimidating. Probably because I had dyed black hair, piercings and wore this blood red coat all the time plus I’m really tall for a girl, have good posture and an epic resting bitch face (also really tired) and I was not afraid to speak up in class (or anywhere else really). One of my friends claimed I was the definition of “looks like they could kill you, is actually a cinnamon roll” hahaha ❤️ (I got the nickname “lady in red” which is not the worst high school nickname there is).

My favorite scent is, uh, bonfires? Like smoke from burning wood? Not sure what it is in English to be honest.

Other projects…hmm. Okay, so I kinda want to learn screenwriting because I really want to write a horror movie some day.

anonymously message me (3) things you want to know about me.

[bi-writes]

who to call to clean up after an "accident" than your sick and twisted military boyfriend? :D (dark!ghost x dark!fem!reader, 18+)

cw: dark!reader, dark!simon, horror movie vibes, graphic depictions of character death/murder, unhealthy relationship dynamics, one slip of daddy, smut, unprotected piv, simon "spit in my mouth" riley, reader and simon are kinda psycho :D

you've been so nice to her. really nice. you've let it slide off your back whenever she doesn't do her dishes. you pretend you don't notice when she borrows your shoes from the hallway and wears them out to dinner. you hide yourself in your room when she has her awful, loud guests over, and you have never once said anything about how she takes her sweet time in the shared bathroom in the morning and makes you late 2 days a week for work.

but this? this?

she needs to keep simon's name out of her fucking mouth.

"excuse me?" you say finally. your roommate is shrugging on her jacket to leave, her purse in her hand as she types on her phone, using it as a way to not make eye-contact with you. her long nails are tapping against the screen, and it feels like fucking drip water torture. "what the fuck did you just say?"

she sighs, irritated, rolling her eyes as she keeps tapping away at the screen.

"you're so dramatic, it was just a fucking joke."

"you know, i let a lot of things slide," you laugh, humorlessly, and you cross your arms over your chest as you follow her into the kitchen. "but you need to be careful what you say."

"i don't do anything except call it like i see it," she says, tossing her hair over her shoulder and looking at herself in the reflection of the mirror hanging on the wall. "you need to just...go out more. man like that isn't gonna stay for long if you don't give him something to go for. he's bored, you know. when you have him over here all the time. and i've totally caught him peeking at me after i shower, y'know."

"well why the fuck are you wearing nothing but a towel when my boyfriend is here, anyways?" you snap. "he's trying to be polite, he's a guest. what if i wore a fucking towel when you had your guy friends over?"

she laughs, poking at the edge of her lip to fix the gloss of her pout. "trust me, honey, no one's looking at you in a towel."

you step back, a little shocked. she rolls her eyes again, sighing.

"i didn't--"

"are you kidding me?" you retort. "you're the worst fucking roommate in the world, and i put up with all your bullshit, and now you're going to go so low as to insult the way i look just to make yourself feel better?" you make your way around the kitchen island. "you don't wash your fucking dishes, you steal my fucking clothes, you're always late on your rent so i have to spot you--"

"you know what, just because i'm fucking happy, and you're not, doesn't mean you have to take it out on me!"

"i am happy, you sorry bitch!" you cry. "i'm so fucking happy, you're the only thing in my life making me constantly miserable!"

"oh, shove it up your ass, you ungrateful little shit!" she snaps. "you're just so fucking insecure and hate me so badly just because simon would rather fuck a girl like me than have to spend another minute with--"

the crack of cast iron against her head shuts her up. it dents the side of her head easily, and her face smacks against the countertop before she crumples to the floor.

it's so fast. one minute, she's yapping, high-pitched voice straining your ears. the next, she's silent.

and she won't say simon's fucking name again.

you watch with bated breath as she folds into herself, her head hitting the hardwood last, a slow puddle of blood beginning to grow under the tendrils of her hair as your eyes move to the heavy pan you're still holding in your hands.

fuck, that's a lot of blood. god, you thought she was just full of fucking air.

you drop the pan once the rush of anger leaves your chest. it thunks onto the ground, and your hands shake as you see the specks of blood that are on the back of your hands, sprinkled over the shirt you wear. it stains your bare legs, even your toes, and you don't even want to look at the spray of it along the counters.

you should be crying, you think. you should feel bad. you're trembling a little, but you think it's just the adrenaline beginning to fade and not the guilt you know is supposed to be racking your insides.

you turn your eyes back to her. her eyes are dull. she doesn't move. it's so quiet now, utterly silent, and you take a deep breath as you take in the silence that you've craved for a long while now. you make your way quietly out of the kitchen, stepping over her body before going for your phone that sits on the coffee table in front of the couch.

you keep your eyes on her as you put your phone to your ear. it rings, and you tilt your head to the side as the blood begins to spiderweb under the kitchen table.

"'ello?"

you blink, looking towards the door. you clutch your phone a little tighter to your ear.

"simon?" you say softly. "a-are...are you busy?"

he hums lowly, chuckling, "no' at the moment, swee'eart, why?" he asks. "mmm...missed y'r voice..." you close your eyes as you hear the buckle of his belt. you try not to picture your giant of a boyfriend leaning back on his worn couch and shoving his jeans low enough to fuck his fist. "tolk t'me, luv...tell me 'ow much ya miss daddy."

you clear your throat gently, willing yourself to ignore the soft squelch of what you know is his hand around his cock, to not let it distract you from what's more important. "uhm...i liked the flowers you gave me, simon. t-they were beautiful."

the sounds on the other end of the phone quiet. you hear shuffling, and then a few moments later, the clink of his car keys.

"tha' right, baby?" he asks, and you close your eyes as you hear the front door of his flat opening. he's already on the way, already coming.

"yeah," you sniffle. "really nice sunflowers."

a yellow flower. he huffs on the other end of the phone, breathing a little easier.

"good girl," he murmurs, and then the line cuts. you set the phone down, making your way back to the kitchen and taking a seat at the table. you watch as the blood continues to curl over the floor. you make no attempt to help her; you just swing your feet under you as you look at her spoiled outfit, just grateful she isn't wearing your shoes or one of your jackets. you would hate to have to throw something out that she got all dirty.

there's a curt knock at the door ten minutes later, and then it opens. simon shuts the door behind him, cracking his neck by moving it from side to side before narrowing his eyes at you. you bite your lip, blinking, forgetting suddenly why he is here when he looks so fucking good. he's got a sweatshirt on under his windbreaker, worn jeans tucked into his boots; you like these jeans, his ass looks incredible in them.

"wot happened?" he asks. you stand, remembering your place. your lip starts trembling, and simon's eyes soften just a little. he's wearing his balaclava, hood up over his head and jacket zipped up, shadowing any true expression on his face. his gait sounds heavy as he lets his hands out of his pockets, coming towards you. when he steps into the kitchen, his eyes dart towards your roommate who's still on the floor, laid out unnaturally just by the oven.

he lets out a low breath, clicking his tongue under the mask. you hold your breath as you wait for his reaction.

"bloody hell," simon mutters, reaching up and throwing his hood off. you wring your hands together nervously, your eyes beginning to sting with tears. you brace for the accusations, for the inevitable terror of facing the music. simon is military, for fuck's sake, why the fuck did you think turning to him would be a good idea?

"i...i-i--" you start, looking up at him, and he holds up a hand, taking the side of your face into his palm before smoothing a gloved thumb over your bottom lip. you blink in confusion, not understanding.

"'s olright, baby," he shushes you, shaking his head. "don't cry."

"simon, i--" you sputter a little, gripping his wrist gently. "i just--i couldn't do it anymore, she just--"

he pities you. maybe you can explain. maybe if you tell him a warped story of what happened, he can help you. he must know someone. he must have important friends, he must--

he uses his free hand to move his mask up over his nose, and you lean into him when he bends, kissing you warmly. your eyes flutter shut, and you shuffle closer as he kisses you sloppy, kisses you hot. you mewl as he slips his tongue into your mouth, licking over your teeth and humming low as he pulls away. his eyes are flashing.

mmm. love.

"hmm..." simon licks his lips, smiling a little. he looks over you, almost pensive, his eyes scanning over your face before he settles back on your eyes. it's tender, the way he looks at you. romantic. "let's get this off of ya."

he reaches for the large shirt you are wearing, pulling it up and over your head. he crumples it into a ball before tossing it on top of your roommate, nodding his head behind you.

it's then that you realize simon isn't going to do the noble thing. he isn't going to call the police. he isn't going to turn you in, make you explain, he seems uninterested in knowing what really happened. no, he already knows what happened. but that's not important.

his pretty, perfect girl got into a little trouble. and he's going to make this go away.

"go on, luv. take a nice shower, yeah?" simon turns you around and pushes on your back gently. you suck in a shaky breath when he fondles your ass, pulling on your panties gently. "mmm...take these off, too."

you slip your panties down your legs, handing them to him.

"they have blood on them, too?" you ask, wiping your face, and he chuckles lowly.

"nah," he shrugs, stuffing them into his back pocket after taking a little sniff. "these are just for me."

jesus fucking christ, there's really something wrong with him. there's something really, really wrong with him.

and something wrong with me.

simon looks you up and down, his eyes catching on your naked body for just a few moments before he nods his head again.

"go on," he tells you. "before i get distracted." you pause for a moment, tilting your head back a little as he reaches out and cups one of your breasts in his big hand. you bite your lip, swallowing back a heavy breath as he flicks his thumb over your nipple gently. "greatest tits 've ever seen," he mumbles, scrunching his nose under the mask before he lets you go. "yeah, go on, baby." it takes everything in you to walk away when you see him reach down with that same hand and grip his bulge through his jeans, adjusting himself as he turns back to the mess in the kitchen.

when you shut the bathroom door behind you, you hear shuffling in the living room. the coffee table scraping. the couch being pushed. the rustle of the rug you have there. he grunts a little, and you hear his boots track from the kitchen back to the living room.

you turn the water on hot. you decide to take a bath, not looking at yourself in the mirror as you sink into the tub and plug the drain. you make the water scalding, and it soothes your sore muscles as you rest your cheek against the edge of the tub and stare at the door.

you're not sure how long you stay there. long enough for the water to nearly slosh over the edge of the tub and for simon to swing the bathroom door open, seemingly done with his...tasks.

he's taken his sweatshirt off. just a black t-shirt tucked into jeans, and there's a slight pant to his breaths that tell you he's exerted some energy. you notice he has his gloves still on, but before he touches you, he takes them off and tosses them into the sink.

"move over," simon mutters, starting to undress. you look up at him as he undoes the button on his pants, shucking his shirt off and into the corner before dropping his jeans. the water swishes as you sit up, and you swallow hard when simon kicks his boots and pants off, his cock hanging heavy as his mask is the last to hit the floor.

fuck, he's so pretty.

he has no regard for his size. he simply steps into the tub behind you, taking a seat. he looks comically large in your small bathtub, and you squeak a little as the water spills over the edge of the bath and wets the floor. he hums as he feels the hot water on his back. you don't say anything as his hands start to turn the water a little red. you just look up, away, at him.

you shuffle between his legs, tucking yourself into his space. you can't help but look him up and down, admiring his naked physique. he's just hot. big arms, thick thighs, sunburnt tattoos and scars cutting across his face. he hasn't shaved today, so there's some stubble along his jaw, but your eyes focus a little too much on his girthy length, heavy as it sits on his stomach and leaks a little there. his fat stomach, all solid and pudgy, such a nice place for you to rest your hands.

"you did good today," simon says finally. you look at him, and he tilts his head to the side. his approval makes your chest warm. "callin' me like tha'. wot a good girl you are."

keeping quiet on the phone is what he doesn't add out loud.

you purse your lips, trying not to keen at the praise, but it's hard not to when he reaches over and slides his hand over your shoulder, thumbing at your jaw.

"i-i didn't...didn't know what to do," you admit, and he clicks his tongue, shaking his head. you didn't know what to do, so you called him. level-headed enough to not do something rash and call someone else, no, you called him.

"mmm...tha's wot i'm 'ere for, luv," simon soothes you. "made such a little mess..."

you close your eyes. it's sick. deranged. fuck, it feels nice.

why don't i feel anything?

"i know. i'm sorry."

"nothin' ta be sorry about."

you slump into his arms, resting your cheek on his solid chest. you can feel his cock pulsing against your tummy, and you adjust yourself in the water, straddling him as you rest your chin on his pecs and look up at him through watery eyes.

you aren't sad. no. not sad at all. simon has shown you what he will do for the you. the lengths he will go. what he'll forgive just to take care of you. he's so capable, so understanding.

sick. twisted. mine.

"then i'll just say thank you," you mumble, grinding your hips slowly. simon hums, a wicked smile coming over his scarred face. he licks over his bottom lip, big hands gripping you by the fat of your hips as you grip the edges of the tub for stability. "say thank you to my big, strong man for taking such good care of me..."

he chuckles, his eyes lowering, watching your tits sway as you fit your pussy over his length and grind down on him.

"tha' so, baby?"

you nod.

"mhm," you whine. "how can i thank you, my big boy? how can i show you how grateful i am for cleaning up after me, hmm?" you bend at the waist, kissing him wet and warm, and he hisses as you suck his tongue into your mouth. he tastes like cigarettes, and normally you would curse him for it, but right now it tastes so much like him, and you lick around his teeth trying to taste more of that sweet nicotine.

"fuck--such a naughty little girl..." he snickers, reaching down. you sigh when he slides his big palms over your ass, forcing you to grind slower, the tip of his cock sliding through your folds leisurely. you grip the edges of the tub tighter, pressing down to give you more leverage to grind down harder. "make such a mess, oll the time..." you gasp when he presses into you just enough, the tip breaching your entrance and forcing you to squeeze around him, your cunt trying to suck him in. "olways needin' me ta pick up afta ya..."

you giggle, sliding your hands up his chest, gripping his shoulders for leverage as you sink down onto him. he grits his teeth as you do, his eyes focused on the way his cock disappears inch by inch until you're seated down in his lap, his length kissing deep and twitching excitedly. he always feels like a teenager again whenever you fuck--like you're the first pretty girl to ever wet his cock.

you cup his cheeks finally, smoothing your thumbs under his eyes as you bring his gaze up to meet yours. you swallow hard, looking down at him.

"i-i love you, simon," you breathe. he stills underneath you, his jaw clenching as he frowns just a little. you come a little closer, nuzzling your nose against his, your thumb falling to trace the outline of his torn lip. "i should've said it a long time ago...i-i..."

"heart's beatin' out y'r chest, luv," he mutters lowly. "'s olright...'m not goin' anywhere."

it's so disgusting. you should be fucking ill. you should be scrambling to the toilet, your breakfast halfway up your throat. you should be crying, emotional, begging simon to tell the cops that it was all your fault, because it is. he should've come here and made you do the level-headed thing and confess your terrible crime.

he shouldn't be here, sitting underneath you in your tub, cock-deep inside of you after helping you commit murder and then fucking clean it all up.

"what did i do?" you gasp, sitting up. you move to get out of the tub, but simon growls, putting two firm hands on your ass and shoving you back down on his cock, making you cry. "w-what did i do? s-simon, why don't i feel bad, why am i not sorry--?!"

simon tsks, feigning comfort. he juts his bottom lip out into a pout, mocking your little cries.

"oh, luvvie, don't start cryin' now," he chuckles. "don't start pretending like y'care."

uhm...

"simon--"

"no one likes a liar."

you're still trying to pretend, and he knows this. you're still trying to act how someone normally would react. someone normal, someone who thinks rationally, would never have picked up the pan in the first place. and even if they had, they would've scrambled, cried, picked up the phone and confessed, called an ambulance as they tried to get her to start breathing again, put both hands on her chest and tried to get her wake up.

but you didn't. you watched, unnervingly calm, as she stained the hardwood with her blood. you watched as her eyes glassed over, lifeless, and you watched as her insides began to paint the floor in abstract shapes as you gave it time to spread. and not once during that time, or waiting for simon, did you think to help her.

you didn't want to help her. and you certainly didn't think she deserved to get back up. maybe she hadn't done anything quite harsh enough to deserve death in someone else's eyes. annoying, overbearing, rude.

but it's hard to feel bad when she talked about simon. when she called him by his name. when you've seen her let her towel slip when he's in her vicinity, trying to coax him into her room when you're looking away.

you should've taken one of the throwing knives that simon hides in his boot and thrown it at her then, just for that.

"we're cut from the same bloody cloth, baby," simon says, almost accusingly. you grip the edges of the tub, trying to stand again, but he cants his hips and fucks up into you, drawing a frenzied moan out of you. you reach for his shoulders as he does it again, his tongue darting out before he licks a fat stripe over your pebbled nipple. "'s olright. 's okay, luv. don't worry. don't hafta get y'r hands dirty, swee'eart, i've got it."

"but simon," you whine, but all he does is shake his head. you don't have to put on this morality act for him. you don't have to pretend that you are sorry for something that you had every right to do, you don't have to explain to him why you aren't feeling the way you should be feeling.

simon doesn't care about how you should feel. he only cares about how you actually feel.

"she was in y'r way," simon grunts. "always bein' a bloody brat." he fists your hair and brings your mouth to his, groaning as you tighten around his cock. "'ow many times did she fuck ya over, baby, hmm? 'ow many times did she steal y'r fuckin' things, come outta the loo wearin' nothin' but her fuckin' knickers, yeah? 'ow many times?"

you kiss him, frantic, digging your nails into his pecs and dragging them angrily.

yeah. fuck her. fuck what she did to me, fuck the way she behaved, fuck her stupid face and her stupid attitude and her stupid little games.

"called ya names..." he's hitting your sweet spot now, making you cry from pleasure. your pussy feels so hot, squeezing him because you know he's right, and the way he fucks this time makes you think he really knows what you are and knows exactly how to get you there. "wot a fuckin' twat. deserved every bit o' it, baby."

you meet his eyes, dark and cruel. he's still moving, still holding onto your hips and drawing out little whines, but it's different suddenly, it's more. you nod, understanding.

simon is terrible. no good. his head isn't in the right place, maybe it never has been. you wonder, briefly, if this is what he does when he's at work, if these are the things that he's used to. maybe simon has been in service too long--maybe he doesn't understand that you aren't at war here, that you can't just kill and clean up, that you aren't in the field.

"she deserved it," you whimper, and he grins, all teeth, all mean.

"tha's it."

"she was such a bitch."

"fuckin' right."

"she got what was coming for her."

"nnghhh--fuck, baby, gonna make me fuckin' cum, tolkin' like tha'," he hisses. you practically smack him as you grab onto his scarred face, gritting your teeth as you glare down at him. his lips part, and you spit in his mouth as he fucks up into you, thighs hitting your ass with a wet smack that makes your head spin.

"and i'll get rid of the next bitch that so much as looks your way, simon."

the kiss is searing. hot, blinding, white noise fills your ears as he cums with you, stuffing you full as he cums hard, a pained groan leaving him as he collapses against the porcelain tub with a harsh thud. you follow him, chasing after him, kissing him between heavy breaths as you don't make any effort to move off of him. when simon opens his eyes, he can't help but smile.

he's never seen his reflection without a mirror.

[fadefromthelight]

16, 17 for the ask meme?

16. How many fic ideas are you nurturing right now? Share one of them?

Way too many if I'm going to be completely honest. I always like to be thinking about some sort of plot line and the new shiny idea is always fun to think about when I'm waiting for the bus or in class. Some of them stick around and become something more fleshed out and others just stay fun little ideas that I poke at occasionally.

I have a couple two or three keitaru one-shots that I'm seriously thinking about, a little sickfic that I've been writing the past couple of days, and the next arc of running I'm working through.

A little snippet from the sickfic because why not!

Keisuke jolts awake. His gaze snaps up, eyes narrowed and vision unsteady. His entire body aches something fierce and it takes him a moment longer to even remember what’s going on. 

Ryousuke stands beside him with a hand on his shoulder, his expression pinched. He presses his other hand against Keisuke’s forehead, frowning. It’s cold against the desperate inferno burning beneath his skin.

“....What?” Keisuke rasps. He turns away from Ryousuke and coughs into his elbow.

Ryousuke drops his hand from Keisuke’s face. Keisuke can barely fight the whine that builds in his throat. 

It feels like his entire body is burning from the inside out. 

“You should be in bed,” Ryousuke says, quiet and withdrawn.

17. What do you do when writing becomes difficult? (maybe a lack of inspiration or writers block)

I first try to figure out why the scene I'm writing isn't working, because that's the most common reason why writing gets difficult for me. I usually go back a couple of paragraphs and try again or restart from the beginning of the scene. If that doesn't work, I might skip the scene and hope that next scene is a little easier to write.

If neither of those things work, I do one of two things: take a short break from writing or work on something else I've been thinking about. If I'm getting frustrated with writing in general, I try drawing something since it's a completely different medium and allows me to mentally distance myself for a couple of days.

If I still feel like writing but what I'm working on is fighting me every step of the way, I'll open up my drabble doc and just write out a short idea. Sometimes I'm writing with a new character or from a new perspective and I don't have it down well enough to be comfortable writing my current piece. But when I'm writing my drabbles, I'm just putting ideas down and messing around. They're lower stakes for me, so they're often easier to write.

[angelcake10023]

//CW…. Slightly Suggestive (?) ⚠️

Don’t dish it out if you can’t take it, Tang! 🔥

Bonus

They ain’t subtle

Not one bit

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Who is this sassy lost child?

[First] Prev <–-> Next

[hajihiko]

💕

[tired-biscuit]

Wolverine seeing people are into the whole "mark me so people know you're mine" stuff and he ends up biting your shoulder so hard in the heat of the moment you have to go to the ER and end up with stitches lmao

18+ MDNI, fem!reader

i imagine it’s you who suggests that you incorporate it in bed, but logan being logan, he’s immediately shutting you down with the excuse that he (preferably) wants to keep you alive after he’s done having sex with you, and is refusing to continue the conversation despite the fact that you’re shoving the smutty book that you’d been reading right into his grouchy face, furiously trying to point to the paragraph where the specific scene is unfolding.

you huff and give in eventually — it’d be nonsense to keep hitting your head against a brick wall, after all. however, later that same night when he’s got you underneath him again; naked and burning hot, moaning nonsense and wiggling your hips in time to the rough swing of his… you’re starting all over again.

in your half-delirious state, you’ve somehow ended up begging him to do it. and to make matters even worse: you’re so fucking desperate with it. clinging onto his broad shoulders, using your whiny voice, looking up at him so pleadingly while those pretty tears keep on glimmering inside your eyes but never quite manage to spill down your heated cheeks. using all your weapons.

and fuck, that’s not all of it either. he can feel your pussy squeezing around him, trying to milk him as yet another form of persuasion. wet and hot and persistent. sucking him in, making his balls tighten and his thighs clench to the brink of pain so that he can refrain from spilling into you too soon. it makes his brain glitch; makes it switch to something a bit more animalistic and not nearly as cautious as he’d like it to be.

so he sinks his teeth into you to make you stop, to make himself stop. he sinks them in deep.

the taste of your blood that coats his tongue afterwards makes his stomach twist with a weird mixture of regret and excitement. he knows how to patch you up — quite fast, too — but he’s so worried about the entire situation (that he, himself has allowed to escalate) that he still forces you to pay a visit to the hospital anyway.

by the time you’re allowed to go back home, he’s trying his hardest not to be moody and act like an ass about it.

still, even with the ‘little’ mishap, the look on your face seems to be oddly satisfied as you sleep cuddled up extra closely to him that night — one reason behind it being that you have to share a pillow now because he’d accidentally shredded yours the moment he came and his claws pushed out from between his knuckles without a single warning.

and that causes him to worry even more.

[misswoozi]

Ooh wait ok speaking of miss taylor, choose three of your fave songs by her and then a ship that reminds you of each song (does this make sense lol)

- mina

OKAY I'VE BEEN THINKING ABOUT THIS FOR DAYS BC I WANTED TO GIVE YOU A REALLY GOOD ANSWER AND HERE'S WHAT I'VE GOT

The Archer — Taehyun/Soobin

High Infidelity — Tiffany/Taeyeon

Enchanted — Suho/Chanyeol

[lucabyte]

leering