#that was the wildest fucking scenarios ever

[jabberwockprince]

modern otome games dont do it for me anymore bc even though some of them let you pick pronouns/gender, theyre still heavily written for women (which is fair, its OTOME game for a reason, i stopped being their target demographic years ago) who specifically love to be dominated and/or degrated to different degrees, most of the time being seduced/whisked away lowkey against their will, which leads me to believe modern otome are the equivalent of those books for sexually repressed wives

[inez-winchester-cameron]

Could you write a longer one shot or smth about that pogue!reader x enemy!rafe? I love the concept sm!!💕💕

this is the post I'm thinking about:

thinking abt sweet lil pogue reader who cant stop thinking abt rafe..her supposed enemy even though she rubs her sticky cunt to the thought of him atleast 3 times before she can sleep..

our little secret

rafe cameron x pogue!enemy!reader

summary: you and rafe both have completely opposite but big reputations but something about him draws you in. in a sort of way that you can't quite explain, nor could you try explaining to your friends

cw: 2 year age gap, innocent and sweet reader, virgin reader, masturbating, suggestive, idek

note: i think id be willing to write more on this topic but i kept this mostly brief. requests open for spn and obx!!

you and rafe are complete opposites in nearly ever sense. rafe cameron is the king of the kooks, a drug addict, a party animal, with raging anger issues. you on the other hand are a sweet little member of the pogues, refuse to touch any drugs, and would rather be at home relaxing than go to a party. on top of that, your two groups are complete and total enemies. you and rafe are supposed to be enemies.

but rafe's always been nice to you, or atleast he's not a complete dick to you. whenever he sees you in public while you're alone, he always finds some sort of reason to talk to you.

"where's your little pogue friends, princess?"

"looking lonely, huh?"

"tell jj he better not show his damn face at one of my parties ever again. think you can handle that, princess?"

and during the altercations between the groups, he stays away from you, harassing the others, never you.

and you know it's wrong. he's a dick to your friends, he treats them like trash. but there's something about him.

maybe it's the big blue eyes or the height difference or the hair. or maybe it's the sweet little nicknames he calls you, and the longing looks he gives you.

whatever it was, it had you shoving your hand down your pants before bed every night. your mind came up with the wildest scenarios, the dirtiest shit.

rafe pinning you against the bathroom sink at one of his parties.

him pulling you away from your group and shoving his dick down your throat.

him calling you dirty names while you bounce on his cock, your tits in his face.

after one particular incident, you find yourself getting home asap to touch yourself. rafe had approached you at a party, where you stood alone. unlike the rest of your group, you were rather shy and all your friends left to be social.

as you stand alone, you sip on the cup that jj had filled for you earlier. you look around, nervously, hoping one of your friends returns to you soon. your heart starts beating faster as rafe cameron approaches you. he gives you a sickeningly sweet smile.

"hey princess, where are your little pogue buddies at?"

"with other friends.." you mutter.

"really? they're leaving a sweet little thing like you all by herself?"

"yeah i can take-" you start but you're interrupted.

"what the fuck are you doing?" jj suddenly asks, barging into the scene, pushing rafe away from you.

"fuck off, maybank, i didn't touch her," rafe says, putting his hands up, "i'll see you later, sweets." he winks at you before walking off.

-

later that night, as you lay in bed, you find yourself thinking about the incident. your hands are neatly laying on your stomach and as you think more and more you find yourself shoving one down your pj pants and underwear.

you sigh as your hand makes contact with your sticky cunt. you rub over your clit for a moment before spreading your lips apart, running a finger over your hole and spreading your slick along your cunt.

a few seconds later, you're shoving a finger up your cunt and whining. for the life of you, you could not get a good angle, ever. you always saw people raving about and talking about how good it feels to finger yourself or get fingered, but you could never get the right angle or feeling by yourself.

after a few moments of absolutely no pleasure, you pull you hand back, groaning. your phone buzzes and you jump a bit. your free hand reaches for it and you pause as you read your newest notification.

'rafecameronobx has requested to follow you'

[dreamwritesimagines]

The Eye of the Hurricane [5] - Unyielding

A.N: Here’s the new chapter my loves! ❤️ Thank you so much for your wonderful feedback, you made my day! ❤️I hope you’ll like this chapter as well and please don’t forget to tell me what you think! ❤️

Summary: Certain arguments can’t wait.

Word Count: 3600

Pairing: MobBoss!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: Violence, death, guns, crime, blood, explicit language, drinking. This is an AU, friendly reminder that I don’t condone any of the actions depicted on this story and please read with care.

Series Masterlist

For a couple of seconds, you could do nothing but stare at him with wide eyes, frozen in your seat.

“Excuse me?”

“Just hear me out before you grab your gun, it would—” he started but you scoffed and stood up from the lounge chair, the familiar anger rushing through you so fast that it almost made your head spin.

“Do you think this is funny?”

He shook his head fervently. “I’m completely serious.”

A dry laugh spilled from your lips. “Oh really?”

“Charm…”

“I don’t know who the fuck you think you are, but my stupid little crush on you went away years and years ago,” you growled, glaring daggers at him. “You made sure of that, so if you dare assume for even a moment—”

“Oh my God, that was the wildest bachelorette I’ve ever been to!” Becca’s voice cut you off as she pushed open the door and stepped into the rooftop. “Also I’m pretty sure I’m in love now, so…” she stopped when her eyes fell on you two. “Uh, what’s going on?”

“Nothing,” you said after a beat and threw your shoulders back. “Did you just say you’re in love?”

“Yeah!”

Bucky stole a look at Becca. “Who did you fall in love with?”

“That’s a long story. What’s going on in here?”

You pursed your lips together, your heart still beating in your ears as you tried to focus through the fury, then cleared your throat.

“We were—”

“Y/N, we’re leaving!” you heard Ian’s voice and your head whipped around, then you cleared your throat.

“I’ll call you tomorrow,” you said, pressing a kiss on her cheek in a rush. “Let’s get coffee at the usual place?”

“Uh, sure?” she said slowly and you walked out of the rooftop like someone was chasing you, without sparing Bucky so much as a glance.

The road back home was considerably quiet but it did nothing to silence the chaos in your mind. You had excused yourself to your room as soon as you got home, but after an hour of tossing and turning in the bed, you huffed out and kicked the covers off of you, sitting up in the bed.

This was nonsense.

There was no scenario in which you’d marry Bucky. You weren’t even sure you could spend more than half an hour together without being at each other’s throats, let alone being an actual couple—

Not that you had thought about it.

Much.

Fine, back when you were younger and Bucky hadn’t ripped your heart out yet, you used to spend a lot of time thinking about you and him ending up together. He was your best friend’s cool older brother and you were both heirs to your families’ empires, so your little crush let your imagination run wild.

And then he had broken your heart but after everything, even now, your imagination still liked to conjure him up in your dreams some nights.

But unlike before, you weren’t an idiot. You knew what kind of an asshole he was, so there was no way you could even entertain that stupid proposal, no matter what kind of a promise of power it held.

You rubbed at your eyes and got up from the bed, then padded your way down the hallway, then went down the spiral stairs. You stretched out your arms over your head as you followed the hallway to the kitchen where the light was coming from, as you knew it would, then peeked your head in.

Oh good.

It was just Jennifer, your genius chef who was now busy with making a sandwich on the counter while Ryan sat on one of the chairs, his hands clasped together, his back completely straight. Ryan was Ian’s right hand, -ex military, as much as you knew- but unlike Ian, he was much calmer and rational. He was tall and very muscular and didn’t like to talk much, and that added more to the air of mystery he held, considering no one seemed to know much about his past, or his personal life.

“Hey,” you knocked on the door, making both of them turn their heads. “Is this a bad time?”

“Not at all!” Jennifer said as Ryan stood up from his chair.

“Ma’am.”

“Oh don’t!” you motioned at him. “Please don’t stand up, I just…I couldn’t sleep so I figured—”

“Warm milk with honey and cinnamon?” Jennifer finished your sentence for you, making you smile and nod your head.

“Yes please,” you said and pulled yourself a chair, resting your elbows on the counter. Ryan eyed you, then sat down as well.

“There you go!” Jennifer said, putting the plate in front of him, then smiled at him. “Chef’s special sandwich.”

“Thanks Jen,” Ryan said, his voice gruff and Jennifer turned to you.

“Would you like one as well?”

“Ah no, thank you,” you said and heaved a sigh. Jennifer stole a look at you.

“Are you alright?”

“Too many thoughts,” you muttered, leaning your chin on your fist. “Ryan, are you married?”

Ryan’s head shot up as he chewed on his bite, then cleared his throat.

“No ma’am.”

“Any partner?”

“No ma’am.”

“He’s single,” Jennifer said with a grin. “And all my friends are very eager to change that.”

Ryan offered her an almost abashed smile and shifted his weight on the chair as if he was uncomfortable with the sudden attention while Jennifer put your glass of honeyed milk with cinnamon in front of you with a couple of cookies on the plate.

“Thank you so much,” you said as you took a sip, then bit on the cookie.

“Jen, you’re married and in love, right?”

“And I’m also the luckiest woman in the world in addition to all that,” she said, making you smile.

“Do you think people could get married to people they hate?”

“Why would anyone get married to someone they hate?” she asked and Ryan took a huge bite of his sandwich, looking between you.

“Common interests,” you said. “I don’t know, I had this strange thought…”

Jennifer tilted her head. “What?”

You heaved a sigh, then shook your head.

“Nothing,” you said. “Don’t mind me. Just some late-night thoughts, that’s all.”

                                                 *

By the time you met up with Becca, you still couldn’t stop thinking about last night and Bucky’s proposal, if you could even call it that. It was nonsense, you knew it was, but considering Becca was your best friend, the mere thought of keeping it from her was simply absurd.

“He proposed?” Becca asked, gawking at you. “He actually proposed?”

“Well it was technically a business proposal.”

“And a marriage proposal at the same time?”

You shrugged your shoulders while the waiter filled your coffee cup.

“You know…” Becca trailed off. “Hypothetically speaking—”

“You cannot tell me this is a good idea.”

“I’m not but think about it,” she insisted. “You and Buck already hate each other kinda, so you’re technically already married. You just skipped like ten years into it and got to the resentment part.”

“Becca!”

“You fight like a married couple.”

“If some married couple is fighting like me and Bucky, they should get a divorce,” you pointed out, leaning back in your seat. “I blocked his number, and just…ugh the nerve of the guy, can you believe him?!”

“Mm hm.” Becca said, sipping her matcha before checking her phone. “Oh thank God!”

“What?”

“Sarah is coming to the club this weekend,” she said and pointed at you. “So are you, right?”

“Yeah, me and Ethan.”

“What?”

“I’m bringing Ethan with me,” you explained. “I had to ditch him today, we were supposed to meet for lunch but as you can tell, this couldn’t wait.”

“My brother asking you to marry him even if you hate his guts? Yeah, that beats lunch with the cute ex.”

“And you know, since we’ve been texting a lot, I figured…”

“Yeah yeah, bring him over!” Becca said. “It’ll be fun—oh my God, so my brother’s audacity and ego aside, I need to tell you about the girl I met last night.”

“Yeah, I was going to ask you!” you said. “You said you were in love?”

“I am!” she said with a smile. “You know, I was thinking I could invite her and some friends as well, but now that I think about it, maybe I could just take a page from Bucky’s book and open with a marriage proposal.”

“Becca!”

“I’m just saying, we can just skip to the happily married part, flirting is a waste of time at this point and—”

“You’re not doing that!”

Becca let out a laugh.

“I don’t know,” she said. “Just because it didn’t work for him doesn’t mean it wouldn’t work for me.”

“It wouldn’t work for anyone, Becca,” you told her and she hummed.

“I’ll just say one thing about this, then I’ll talk about the love of my life, alright?”

“Alright,” you said and she turned her cup in the saucer, then clicked her tongue.

“You and Bucky being married is an absurd idea yes,” she said. “But he did have a point.”

“How is that?”

“Well, I’ll ask you the same thing my aunt asked me when I took my civilian boyfriend to my cousin’s wedding, and I have a feeling your answer will be different than mine.”

“Which is?”

She smiled at you mischievously.

“Do you want love poems, or do you want power?”

Your eyes shot up to hers before you shifted your weight, then motioned at her with your hand.

“Come on,” you said. “Enough about that. Tell me about the love of your life.”

                                                     *

You and Becca ended up spending the whole day together, and by the time you decided you would go back home, it was already dark outside. Watching outside as the driver drove you home, you leaned your head on the window, then felt your phone buzzing in your purse so you grabbed it, smiling slightly at the name before answering it.

“Hey there.”

“Hi,” Ethan’s voice reached you, and you could tell he was smiling as well. “How was your day?”

“It was good,” you said. “Full of romance.”

“Romance?”

“Becca is in love,” you said and he let out a whistle.

“Your best friend Becca?”  

“Oh yeah,” you said. “I had to talk her out of looking at bridal shops, but we still went cake tasting.”

“Does this person know they’re getting married to Becca?”

“That’s just a small detail,” you joked, making him chuckle. “She invited her to the club for the weekend, I’m pretty excited to meet her. How about you?”

“Do you find data analyzing romantic?”

“Not exactly.”

“Then it was less romantic than your day.”

“And the hospital?” you asked and he took a deep breath.

“Oh everything is fine. Should be free of the bandages next week.”

You bit inside your cheek. “I still feel responsible—”

“Don’t,” he cut you off. “Seriously. The incident had nothing to do with you.”

“Mm hm.”

“Besides, you can’t really blame the rollercoaster if someone gets hurt on one.”

“No one is supposed to get hurt on a rollercoaster,” you pointed out and he thought for a moment.

“Okay in hindsight, it wasn’t the best analogy…”

You pulled your brows together. “Wait, am I the rollercoaster?”

“No! No, you’re sitting next to me on the rollercoaster,” Ethan explained. “We’re both riding it.”

“That’s not—” you started but a black sports car wheezed past yours and sharply drifted sideways as soon as it got in front of your car so that yours would have to stop.

“I’ll call you back Ethan,” you said and hung up the phone, your heart skipping a beat as you grabbed the gun from underneath the seat, looking to your right to see your bodyguards’ car stopping as well. The driver lowered the partition as the bodyguards stepped out of the car.

“It’s Mr. Barnes’ personal car, ma’am,” he said. “I know the plate.”

“Oh Jesus Christ…” you murmured as you put the gun back to where it was and opened your door, then stepped outside at the same time Bucky left his car. Your bodyguards hesitated as soon as they saw him, looking between you and you waved a hand in the air.

“It’s fine guys,” you said and turned to Bucky. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

Bucky shrugged his shoulders as if nothing was wrong.

“You blocked my number,” he said. “It’s not like I can text you.”

“And what, it wasn’t enough of a clue?” you asked tersely and Bucky nodded in the direction of his car.

“Come on, get in. We’re going to talk.”

You crossed your arms. “Nope.”

“Charm for fuck’s sake…”

“I’m not going to talk to you, and I’m certainly not getting in your car.”

“You seriously want to do this right here on the road?”

You threw your hands up in frustration. “You are the one who’s blocking the road, motherfucker!”

You could see the petrified expressions on your bodyguards’ faces before one of them gazed up at the sky while the other one put his hands into his pockets and kicked at a tiny pebble on the road, both desperately trying to look like they weren’t hearing you two.

“Listen—”

“I will not,” you retorted. “What is your deal, seriously?”

“We need to talk about last night,” Bucky said and out of the corner of your eye, you noticed the bodyguards exchanging glances, so you gritted your teeth and grabbed Bucky’s arm to pull him to the other side of the car in an attempt to get more privacy.

“There’s nothing to talk about,” you said through your teeth and Bucky ran a hand over his face.

“No I’d say there’s plenty to talk about,” he said. “I mean you didn’t even give me an answer—”

“That poor excuse of a joke doesn’t deserve an answer.”

“It wasn’t a joke to me.”

“Well, it was to me.”

He shook his head slightly.

“Just—” he said. “Why not?”

You raised your brows, gawking at him in disbelief and a look of realization dawned on his face before he heaved a sigh.

“Charm…”

You shot him a mocking smile, crossing your arms.

You and Becca sneaking into nightclubs wasn’t a new thing, and now that you were leaving for college in a month, you were trying to spend as much time together as possible. Becca threw her arm over your shoulder as you walked through the crowd to the bar.

“Two martinis please,” she told the bartender and he took a look at you two, but before he could say anything the other bartender muttered something into his ear, then motioned at you.

“Coming right up,” he ended up saying as you turned to Becca.

“So you were saying?”

“Yeah like, he keeps saying he’s too busy but I’m not buying it—ugh, you gotta be kidding me!”

You frowned, then followed her line of sight to see Bucky and Steve stepping outside from the other exit that led to the back alley behind the club, your heart starting to beat faster.

“Where are they going?”

“They’re probably gonna beat someone up, who cares?” Becca said with a shrug of her shoulders. “He’s in such a mood nowadays, I’m not even gonna let him know I’m here. Arrogant asshole.”

You tilted your head. “…Oh?”

“He and daddy had a huge fight the other night,” she said as she took the drink from the bartender while he put the other one in front of you. “Like my mom had to step in because they were at each other’s throats, that kind of a fight.”

“Why?”

Becca shrugged again. “It’s probably about business. The golden heir made a mistake I guess.”

You took a sip of your drink. “Interesting.”

“Yeah and then he went and broke up with Laura.”

Your head shot up. “They broke up?”

“Yeah!” Becca said. “Which, I’m not sorry at all because she was so annoying, but no girl in the world deserves to get dumped by Bucky so I have mixed feelings about the situation.”

You could feel the small glimmer of hope warming your chest and you pursed your lips together, then cleared your throat.

“I just—I forgot I was gonna call my dad, he gets so mad when I don’t let him know,” you said. “I gotta step outside for a moment, I’ll be right back.”

“Okay!” Becca said and you made your way through the dance floor before reaching the second exit, but before you could open the door, Steve had already beaten you to it.

“Y/N,” he said when he saw you. “Hey.”

“Hi,” you smiled at him. “Um—have you seen Bucky?”

Steve looked over his shoulder, then turned to you with an apologetic smile.

“He’s not…” he trailed off. “He’s not in the best mood.”

“Oh that’s okay,” you said and pushed the door open before he could say anything else, then stepped outside, holding your phone for the sake of appearance. When you saw him, Bucky’s bodyguards were dragging a nearly unconscious man out of the alley while he wiped the blood off his knuckles with a tissue, then lit a cigarette.

You could feel your heart beating in your ears, but you bit down on your lip, fixing your dress before clearing your throat.

“Bucky?”

He turned his head when he heard his name, then exhaled the smoke.

“Hey Charm,” he greeted you, making your heart skip a beat. “Is Becca here too?”

You bit inside your cheek, trying not to get discouraged by that, then nodded your head.

“Um, yeah we just got here.”

“Great,” he murmured. “Tell her not to drink too much, will you?”

You nodded again and smiled at him, your hand shaky a little as you fixed your dress again, desperately hoping it looked good on you.

“I didn’t know you would be here.”

“Yeah well, here I am,” he said, taking a drag of his cigarette, leaning back to the brick wall and you licked your lips.

“And are you okay?”

“Why wouldn’t I be okay?”

“Oh, just...” you stammered. “Becca mentioned you and Laura.”

Bucky shrugged his shoulders. “Happens. I’m fine, it was my call.”

Dear God, he was so handsome that you could just stare at him for hours.  

“Are you going to that gala thing as well?” you asked, nervousness pulsing through your system. “My dad is basically dragging me there, is George doing the same?”

His jaw clenched at the mention of his father, and he nodded quietly, exhaling the smoke.

Your voice was trembling a little, your throat incredibly dry because of the nervousness mixed with anticipation, but you still managed to get the words out.

“So I was thinking, do you—um—do you wanna go together?”

That managed to get his attention and he pulled his brows together, then let out a dry laugh.

“Jesus Christ…” he muttered. “What, you rushed here as soon as you heard about me and Laura? Seriously?”

You pulled back slightly, your stomach doing a flip and you shook your head.

“No, I just—”you stammered, tears stinging the back of your eyes already. “I was just thinking—”

“Listen, I know you don’t see it right now, but this little crush of yours is just…” he trailed off with a small chuckle, motioning between you. “It’s kind of adorable, but it’s not going to happen. If I go to that gala with you, you’ll get your hopes up, so will everyone else around us and I’ll end up trapped in something serious—which is out of question. I can’t trust you with the business, not when you’d probably report everything back to your own family and I can’t afford a mistake, not right now.”

You tried to blink back the tears, staring at him as he threw the cigarette butt on the ground, then put his hands in his pockets and shrugged.

“Not to mention,” he said. “I don’t go for daddy’s spoiled whiny princess type, and you’d be better off with a nicer guy anyway.”

You could feel the sobs threatening to climb up your chest, so you sniffled and turned around to rush back into the club, leaving him there before he could say anything else.

“Don’t tell me that’s the reason,” Bucky’s voice pulled you out of your thoughts and you arched a brow.

���I said nothing.”

“It was what, almost ten years ago?” he asked. “I was an idiot—”

“I am really not interested in whatever this bullshit is,” you told him. “And I’m going to be late for dinner, so…”

“Just hear me out first—”

You looked over your shoulder and motioned at the driver.  “Turn the car around please!”

The driver did as you asked but before you could step away from Bucky, he grabbed your arm.

“Charm, I can help you get the power you want,” he insisted as you rolled your eyes. “You might hate me right now, but you know I can do that. Just let me get you that crown.”

“We’re done here.” You yanked your arm out of his grip and walked to the car but stopped when you reached it, turning your head to look at him.

“I’m not going to marry you Bucky,” you called out, fully aware that the bodyguards could hear you, and the mere thought gave you a strange sense of satisfaction. “I would never marry you. I don’t go for the arrogant asshole type, and you’d be better off with a nicer girl anyway.”

 With that you got in the car, and the driver started driving as soon as you slammed the door shut, the car gliding down the road smoothly.

“Unbelievable,” you muttered to yourself and leaned your head back, closing your eyes. “The fucking audacity.”

Chapter 6

[leidensygdom]

I gotta say, one of the wildest radical transphobes' talking "points" is probably bathroom discourse. I can't even put to words how utterly detached from reality it is. It's terminally online stuff.

So, bathrooms. I don't know if somehow other people's realities are somehow vastly different from mine, but I feel like the extreme clear divide between "men's" and "women's" bathrooms is just not real. Where I live, stalls are often gendered, but how much they get used in that way is far less consistent.

For example: If the place had only the space to make one bathroom accessible, it's gonna be the women's bathroom. Always. It doesn't mean only disabled women have access to bathrooms- It means that the women's bathroom is also going to be used by disabled people. And this is common. Really common. Maybe it's because the women's bathroom tends to need more space- For pad dispensers and trash cans, for baby-changing stations (yes, I hate that these are only on the women's bathroom usually), and so on. Now- You see a guy enter the women's bathroom. Are you gonna micro-analize if the guy looks disabled enough to use it, or are you going to wash your hands and go on with your life?

Again, baby-changing stations are almost always located on the women's bathroom. It sucks- It should be in all bathrooms. But it's how it is. You see a cis guy enter with a kid. Or maybe not even with a kid- Just enters, wanders around, finds the baby-changing station, gets a diaper from the dispenser and leaves. Are you gonna throw a fit or just let this guy handle his kid?

Bathrooms get cleaned on the regular. A lot of times, you may wanna go there, and get told it's being cleaned, and just get asked to use the other gender's bathroom. Cleaning can take hours. If the men's bathroom is being cleaned and everyone is now using the women's, are you going to deem the bathroom to be the world's unsafest place or are you just go take a pee and leave?

Fucking hell, sometimes the stall you want to go to is incredibly dirty. It happens. No need to get on details. Just the kind of stuff that makes you want to not use it. Or maybe it's clogged, or maybe it's not working. Maybe there's a note saying "Broken, do not enter". Do you cry about it or just go find another stall- Which may be on the other fucking gender's bathroom?

Most times I'll use whatever bathroom is available. One is busy? Ok, let me get to the other one. I'm AFAB and while I don't present femininely, I still look like a woman to most people. Have I ever been in danger because I cleaned my hands besides someone with a dick? No. Grow the fuck up. This isn't even rare. People will switch bathrooms for speed. People will switch bathrooms because one of them is out of paper. Because one of them is out of soap.

The mall in my current city recently installed "Family" bathrooms. They're not being marketed as unisex, or inclusive, or anything. Just "family" bathrooms. For everyone. They're great. It's the bathroom everyone will use- Men, women, anything in between and outside of that, kids, disabled people, etc. There's a bunch of stalls adapted to different needs. There's accessible stalls. There's pad and diaper dispensers. There's stalls that have a big toilet and a little toilet so parents can go with their kids. There's tall sinks and short sinks- So disabled people and kids can reach.

And, to nobody's surprise, there's no reports whatsoever of any sort of assault in them.

I'm just. I don't know. I'm sorry you can't detach the existence of a dick near you from immediate assault. I don't know why that changes in the context of a bathroom- I've never (in my long life of using whatever bathroom) been in danger for that. And I'm talking as someone who has had some unsavory experiences in other situations. Grow the fuck up and maybe stop basing your views on imaginary scenarios y'all need to come up with to justify your hatred of a minority. Maybe if y'all got off your keyboards and went outside for once, you'd realize bathrooms work much differently from whatever weird ideal you have formed about them.

[tokoyamisstuff]

Sursum Corda

Lt. "Lift your hearts/souls", a call to worship before prayer

18+ | 4k. words | Alexander Anderson x f! Reader | explicit | angst | hurt/comfort | mentions of disfigurement | slight bondage, choking and tentacle stuff | not proofread

A/N: Glad to hear there's more people wanting to fuck the biblically accurate rosebush! Also you know me, no smut without eons of buildup.

If that's not your cup of tea don't read it, I'm not responsible for your media consumption. English is not my first language.

Anderson has been haunted by god all his life, way before he had become this...thing.

It was all he ever wanted, wasn't it? To become a vessel, an unfeeling tool to implement God's will on earth, the personification of his wrath against all evil that defies him.

Only briefly his wish was granted and his consciousness fell silent in the bliss of this all-consuming holy duty. Finally, the personal hell that was his own mind came to a halt and was replaced by something far beyond his wildest imagination.

All the worse was his fall from grace when that very same God had forsaken him after he failed to accomplish his mission. At least on the outside Millenium's scheme successfully erased Alucard from existence, so the Judas Priest was granted control over himself once again as well.

Only now he was changed, evermore.

What returned from the battlefield was merely a shadow of his former self, the remnants of his possession leaving him more forlorn than ever before.

A 'Monster of God' is still a monster nonetheless, especially after it's Lord has abandoned his creation.

And beings like he called one himself now were akin to animals in their instincts, if not worse. Their nature driven not by necessity, but a selfish urge to consume in order to ease their yearning for death, to regain a fraction of the humanity they once lost.

This past, this reality felt an eternity away now, even though not a whole day had gone by.

Before he knew it, in his exasperation Anderson had taken what he had rightfully denied himself all those years.

But he simply cannot stay away no longer. Not if you're the only thing in his life that still made sense.

The 'old' Anderson was by far not an innocent man either, but while that version of him may have been strong enough to resist, the broken abomination he had reduced himself to was driven by a completely different obsession.

It could only be described as a horror scenario how the former protector of the orphanage invaded these holy grounds himself. Yet though he could never bring harm upon any of them, at that moment he also held no regards for the mental scars he would leave them with after bearing witness to the consequences of his actions:

Thorned vines were sprouting everywhere from his body, to the point that it was hauntingly indistinct where they ended and he began. Half of his face was missing, now replaced by a barely recognizeable, inhumane mockery of the man you once knew.

All you remember was the panicked screams of church members in face of an unidentified threat, all of you trying to guide the children to safety when suddenly your eyes locked with all too familiar ones - but they held a gleam to them as if something in him was set ablaze.

Initially thinking he was turned and lost himself in a bloodrage, you screamed his name, tried to reason with the children's sake for him to stop this madness, but he was so insanely fast that you couldn't even react before you were enveloped in what appeared to be vines and dragged away.

Next thing you knew was that you woke up in his arms instead, safe and sound at least for now.

You had a vague idea where you were, he once told you about this small hut in the Scottish outskirts. Nothing fancy really, just a tiny log cabin far away from any civilization. An inheritance after his parents early passing, the only thing he got that connects him to the people he never really got to know. Their untimely deaths marked the beginning of his sheer neverending ordeal.

Anderson hasn't spoken a single word ever since he snatched you away, in fact the only sounds leaving his throat are what one could only describe as the wailing of a rogue beast. His massive shoulders were whacking with every sob as he desperately clung to your much smaller form, like a child would hold a stuffed toy for comfort.

All of this felt like a neverending nightmare and yet he fears if he ever wakes up, you'd disappear as well.

Because there's no surviving you. Losing you too would end what's left of him.

He's lying on the mattress besides you, pressing your back flush against his chest with frightening vigor yet also the utmost gentleness as if afraid to hurt you with this frightening strenght. Nothing goes past his heightened senses, from your breathing pattern over your erratic heartbeat and up to the way your muscles contract with every small movement.

You were calm, too calm for someone in your predicament and even if he wasn't currently breaking down right next to you, he wouldn't be able to make sense of why that is.

Especially because he perceived other sensations along with that, appealingly silencing his voice of reason. Like the feel of your tender flesh, pliant under his palm or that intoxicating scent of yours hanging in the air, pheromones so intense as if your body was calling out for him.

It made him sick with want.

How utterly unworthy he is of your presence, and yet he had grown addicted to it without any of your intervention.

He is no better than the demons he had sworn to cleanse the world of, and now feeling their allconsuming hunger as his own is frightening even to himself.

Since it wasn't a hunger that could be satiated by feeding, no. It was something far more possessive and depraved.

A man like him wasn't allowed to love in any way else than pure, and yet here he was, his judgement threatened to be overthrown by desire.

He hates what you do to him, and he especially hates what he wants to do to you.

You started to shift with the intent to face him, but were once again met with dark green tendrils, meandering their way around your body and effectively keeping you in place. They surprisingly didn't hurt, were freed of any thorns as they wrapped themselves securely to your skin.

"Don't-" His booming, distorted voice was laced with undeniable agony and shame. "Don't look at me...please..."

"Anderson..." It felt like this name wasn't his own anymore, and yet hearing it again shook a violent tremor through his body. "You're alive...I thought you were-" You let out a strangled yet relieved whimmer, having tormented yourself ever since he left for the war in London. "I was worried sick...I'm so glad...I- please, I need to see you."

Out of everything he was bracing himself for, it was those particular words that rendered him speechless. He had expected fear, revulsion, anger. For you to scream and shout and cry, lash out or resist. To admonish him for what he's done, beg him to let you go or at least not to hurt you. Anything but this.

There was not an ounce of hatred in your tone - the opposite was the case.

Your soul truly is a mystery he'll never unfold.

If anything, your deeds only elevate your further in his mind, envisions you to what comes closest to an angel for a wretch like him.

Anderson gazes away as he allows you to turn around, unable to look at you as if the brightness of your being was like staring directly into the sun.

"Dear God...what happened?!" He weakly shook his head in defeat, a silent plea to not inquire any further for now. He was not ready to tell you this long, painful story just yet and he knew you'd be understanding. You always were for this reckless fool that he was before. "It's insignificant. All that matters is that you're alright." He was far from that, honestly.

You cupped his cheeks, fingers entangling in the vines stemming from his left side. Anderson was astonished with how boldly you touched them, not a sign of hesistance or disgust in the way you cradled his head in your hands. He seemed visibly torn to just dwell in this balmy feel, fall on his knees and beg for forgiveness, or telling you to run for it and never look back.

"Is it really you?" you ask meekly and without forethought, the stubble of his beard prickling your palm. His skin was greyish-pale, eyes glowing unnaturally, and the half of his mouth that was missing was equipped with razor sharp canines. He looks more like a reanimated corpse than anything, but you wouldn't say this aloud.

And yet you couldn't feel happier, couldn't feel more safe than in his embrace.

"...God has accursed me."

"No, he hasn't." You say firmly, pulling him down to lean his forehead against yours and he'd close his eyes in a pathetic attempt not to cry. "God has sent you back to me in his infinite wisdom and benevolence, and I will forever be grateful for this."

That's not right he thinks quietly, God doesn't reward sinners.

After all, he has failed you and everyone he's vowed to protect due to his own shortcomings. Hell, he abducted you, trapped you here with no way of escaping, and he knew even if you tried he wouldn't- couldn't let you leave.

Because in his religious fervor he became the very thing he seeked to destroy.

"I love you." It's the first time he's confessed this to anyone besides God. "You don't have to love me back. You don't have to be mine. Just...let me be yours.”

Anderson is aware that this is terribly wrong. He was fighting against his inner demons, against this torturous desire for so long already - but now that everything and everyone he ever believed in has literally turned into ashes, you were all that he had left.

You could faintly hear the violent drum of his heart, this behemoth behaving more like a child that's about to be chided. Upset, his tendrils coil even tighter around your middle, making it quite uncomfortable to breathe. He didn't want to scare you, hell, let alone force you - he was just genuinely terrified of your answer.

Whatever comes next was up to you, and he'd gladly accept it. You could either absolve him or throw him into the deepest pits of hell.

In the end, you decided to let your actions convey words you weren't able to form.

Your lips brushed against his, soft and featherlight, like the wings of a butterfly that had just settled on a venus flytrap. He gasped at the sensation, your breaths mingling as you refused to let go.

It took everything inside of him to not pounce on you right this instant, to not ruin this moment and give in to the dark desire that only kept growing at the display of your mutual affection.

Your love is both salvation and damnation, and he wasn't sure yet whether he could trust himself handling such an incredible gift.

Upon feeling you deepening the kiss, your tongue demanding entrance, Anderson manages to tear himself away from you - and it felt like removing a bandaid from a wound that hasn't nearly healed. You let out a protesting noise, your hand on the back of his neck pulling him closer again, but he wouldn't cave and instead softly grabbed your shoulders.

"Stop." His demand was stern, but you could see the tempest brewing beneath. You glance up at him, confused but ever so trusting, and he can't help but place a chaste kiss into your hair. "You shouldn't- you don't have to do this."

You furrow your brows, an adorable little pout curling your lips that almost cracks a smile out of him despite the circumstance. "I know. But I want to."

"Really, dear, just having you here with me is more than I could ever ask for" he insisted, secretly apprehensive that you might only play along to appease the monstrous lunatic that held you hostage. He was obviously instable and could tear you apart with ease, so of course you would be scared and willing to do or say anything to save yourself.

...that was until he set eyes upon that radiating smile of yours.

He had seen it so many times before, and he could never get enough: When you were at a particulary intriguing part of a book you were reading, when you were admiring the flowers blossoming in the courtyard, when you were playing with the orphans or tended to animals you'd occasionally bring in to nurse them back to health.

Not to mention how often you gifted him that smile in the past, and it never failed to make him long to be the only one to receive it, the only one to be able to make you happy like that.

This one was so bright, so sincere, it made him temporarily forget about his pitiful existence and all doubts that came along with it.

"That's by far not the first grave mistake you made" you chuckle softly, intertwining your fingers with his. "We'll figure it out like we always do. And even if we don't I'll be there for you. I promise."

Indeed, over the years you were one of, if not the only constant in his life, aiding him through all kinds of hardships as best as you could.

Back then he never bothered himself whether you reciprocated his feelings or not, since he never intended to act upon them either way. If anything he loathed himself for these thoughts, for mentally degrading you to anything less than the precious, graceful creature you are.

Yes, he needs to pull himself together. He should never defile you like this....not before, and certainly not as he is now.

"Alex..." you chant the endearing nickname with such an alluring voice, his vines started to act subconsciously. Against his self-restraint, they slither under your shirt and up your neck, and you giggle at the tickling as one played with the shell of your ear. You peck a loving kiss on one of the tendrils, your acceptance of his state only causing him to involuntarily pull you even closer this time.

The beast inside of him is gnawing and clawing, demands to take what you offer to fill this all-consuming emptiness.

"I love you too, Alexander Anderson. For a long, long time already...I belong to you, body and soul. Whatever you need, whatever you want, let me help you with it like I always have."

Your confession was the last drop that caused his heart and mind to overflow.

If this is what it takes to feel human again, then so be it.

In an instant Anderson's vines wrap around your wrists and ankles, effectively pinning you down on your back. They eagerly tether under your clothes, around the swell of your hips, the dip of your waist before tearing the fabric apart with one swift movement.

He kneels in front of your body, his large elongated shadow falling on your bare form. You shiver as the cold air hits your skin, moreso after seeing Anderson's intense gaze raking up and down your body. His chest is having with every breath, as if to desperately trying to hold back whatever urges his twisted mind cojured.

"It's alright...I would never hurt you...you're fine...I mustn't hurt you...I won't hurt you..." He repeats those words like a mantra, as if to reassure himself rather than you. Still, several tendrils trace the path of your jugular vein, up to the pulse point on your neck, lingering there tentatively before feebly wrapping around it.

You let out a sensual sigh as his vines keep caressing every inch of your body, lust-filled eyes invitingly blinking up to him. "I know...I-ah! I trust you, Anderson...with every fibre of my being..."

He almost whines at that, at the fact that your words all too effortlessly mend his scattered parts back together.

The long, warm appendages wrap around your calves, dividing your legs apart and presenting your dripping core to his sight. You whimper as one thicker trunk flicked up and down your folds, another one tightening around your mid to keep you in place.

"Heavens, you're divine..." Anderson is shaking in a mixture of anticipation and curiosity, the newfound usage of his powers both blessing and curse. It's monstrous, abnormal, and yet the only way to bring enough distance between you and him to not lose himself in the heat of the moment.

"If you get scared...if you don't like it...you will tell me" he rasps as several vines align with your entrance, his voice betraying his near obsession with the abstract of your body. "Immediately. Promise me."

You look at him through half-lidded eyes, still ever so trusting, the gravity of your voice matching his. "I promise."

As soon as those words left your lips one, two and then more of his vines work themselves inside of you. Others busy themselves encircling and kneading your breasts, teasing the sensitive flesh of your nipples into harness.

Your head falls back in ecstasy, unable to move to adjust the foreign sensation as you faintly hear Anderson growling about worshipping you the way you deserve.

His mouth is slightly agape, mesmerized as he observed you squirm around the restrictions, seeing how you still eagerly try moving your hips towards the cause of your pleasure.

The appendages, now slick with your ambrosia, move in and out as they fill the room with lewd noise, makes your mind and body submit to the overwhelming arousal. One of them curls inside you just right, grazing over a web of tissue that sends weakness trailing up your spine, across your hips and down your legs, making your toes curl.

The vines being an extension of himself makes the sensation of them touching you blend into a mosaic of pain and pleasure, sweet torture being so close to you and yet too far away.

Feeling your walls clench around them makes him throb helplessly, the damp spot at the front of his cassock proof of his desparation.

He alomost comes undone at the sheer sight of you, tits bouncing and a bulge poking below your tummy with every thrust.

"Look at you...so malleable, taking it all so well..." he emphasizes every word with a thrust of his, "This must be what Adam had felt when he first set eyes upon Eve - having a part of his heart besides him, each one half of a united whole."

Having mercy with you his gloved hand finds your clit, tending to the bundle of nerves and sending you over the edge in mere moments. You feel a tide of ecstasy wash over you, hips jolting with every wet, lewd thrust up into your core.

You whine as he jolts out of you all too sudden, still sensitive and nearly raw from the force of it, just for the vines to bully themselves into your mouth instead, letting you taste your own lust on your lips.

Anderson watches almost hypnotized as you lick them clean, the slight gloss of your eyes making him doubt his actions briefly, clearing the lust-induzed haze on his mind.

"Are you okay, love?" he murmurs darkly, yet no less mindful or concerned. You nod mutely, a content smile playing on your lips as you were still caught in the aftermath of your orgasm. "Good. Good. I'm not done yet. I still need you."

Finally, he leans over, his cheek faintly stroking yours as he closes the gap between you and even with all the preparation, it takes you a while to adjust to his size and girth. He went in slow, letting you feel the stretch of every inch, bit by bit till he reaches the hilt, and you let out a muffled whine at the fullness.

"Shh...I got you..." he whispers, stilling inside of you until you signalize him you're ready for him to start moving. He rolls his hips slowly, carefully, his hands finding purchase with your own as he keeps up the sensual pace. "I love you" he repeats solemny, leading one hand of yours to rest at the spot where the Helena's Nail was still deeply buried in his chest. "I spent too much of my life guarding my heart...and now I can't even tell you if there's still one inside of me anymore, but if there is...it's yours."

Tears spill over the rim of your eyes and down your cheeks, only to be wiped away by thorned vines. Almost poetic.

"I love you too!" you exclaim, throwing the words right back at him, unable to form any more coherent sentences as your mind went blank for a second time.

Both of you entangle with the other, unwilling to ever let go, and even after your second climax Anderson seems to be determined to pull out more from you.

His vines pull you onto his lap now, lifting and bouncing you onto his cock while your name drops from his lips like a profession of faith. Its too much, the feeling of being filled and enveloped at once until all you can feel is him.

"A-Anderson, I can't-" your voice is rising and cracking sharply as another peak builds up inside of you. "I'm right behind you, love. Let yourself fall, I'll catch you."

His lips crush over yours again, drinking in your moans as if he needs you more than the blood in his veins.

For a moment your vision went blank and you almost grew limp from exhaustion, but even after the vines retreated you were caught in Anderson's embrace. Leaving kisses in his wake, he notices all the small cuts and bruises his vines nearly seared on you as they explored you earlier.

Anderson clings to you like you're his lifeline, his voice gravely concerned as he massages the marking loveletter he unintentionally wrote on your skin in his possessive fenzy. "I'm sorry...im so sorry...I should've controlled myself better..."

Wanting to give you space he rolls to lie on his back, but you snuggle onto him, pillowing your head on his shoulder and draping an arm over his stomach like he was a massive teddy bear.

"Ive never been better, really. That was...I don't even know how to begin describing it...I would've never dared dreaming of ever being this close to you." you gently, dreamily affirm him, absentmindedly letting a hand run over the vines on his chest. "Thank you for coming back to me, Alex."

A slow hum of bliss vibrates in his chest as he lets your words seep into his soul, his arm securely tucking around your waist. "I’m scared to death that I’ll let you down again, but I won’t run from myself this time."

"I believe in you. You are a good person and you deserve to be happy, Anderson. You just need to allow yourself to be." There is a dash of hopefulness in the way his face relaxes as he listens. "Say, I had a bag on me when you...you know, took me. Where is it?"

Anderson's brow furrowed but he wouldn't question your demand, his vines stretching across the room to bring you the small bagpack you always carried everywhere. He watches intently as you rummage inside of it, laughing internally as you happily pluck out a small case. "You still carry this with you?"

"Always!" you cheer, opening it to reveal an exact replica of his glasses. "No wonder with how often you break them."

Finally, he found himself able to mirror your smile. It's more of a snarl than anything, however it doesn't fail to convey the depht of his affection and gratitude.

Anderson closes his eyes, tilting his head downwards in reverence as you set the glasses on his nose - a symbol that no matter how he had changed, deep down he was still the same man, no matter what.

"Welcome back, Alexander."

[lady-lostmind]

Dreams

Love is: Having hope for the future together.

a @steddielovemonth prompt Thank you @oh-stars for betaing this!

WC: 560 | Rating: G

ao3 link

Eddie has always been a dreamer. Even when all the odds were stacked against him, he had high hopes for his life. Always thought he was bound for more than being a high school drop out that lives in a shitty trailer. It’s why he suffered through two extra years of high school in the first place. It’s what had him practicing his guitar for hours a day. Convinced if he worked hard enough, if he was the best, he could do it. He could get out of here. Play music and make money. Maybe buy Uncle Wayne a real house. Finally repay him for everything he’d done for him. Make up for being such a little shit growing up. 

What Eddie didn’t ever see in his dreams was Steve Harrington. He seemed too unattainable even for his wildest scenarios. Eddie would have laughed in your face if you told him that, one day, he would be laying next to Steve, sprawled out in his bed. That he’d let out a content sigh when he feels Eddie’s fingers trail across his skin. That he’d look at him like he hung the fucking moon. That Steve Harrington would one day tell Eddie ‘The Freak’ Munson that he loves him. That Eddie would believe him. But now, as he lays here, staring into Steve’s eyes, he can’t stop the dreams from growing inside him. 

Dreams bigger than he’s ever imagined before. Dreams completely wrapped up in Steve. 

He wants to give his boy the fucking world. Wants to get him away from this place that ripped them to shreds. Wants to show him he already has the family he’s been searching for.  Buy him that fucking RV and load it up with their giant mismatched, makeshift crew. Eddie wants to buy him a house big enough to be the home base of the group. Let him be the one the group flocks to for holidays and big events. And Eddie knows they will. Because it’s Steve. And he may not realize it, but he’s the glue. The kids all adore him. Hero worship that Steve doesn’t see. But Eddie does. As much as they tease him and give him a hard time. He sees it in their eyes. Steve put his life on the line for them. Over and over. He was the babysitter. That’s a bond that stays put.

Eddie never thought he’d end up being one of those people who revolves their life around their significant other. Never thought he’d find someone that stuck around long enough, honestly. But all his plans are now their plans. He can’t imagine doing any of the things he’s dreamed of for so long without Steve, now. It wouldn’t be worth it. He knows, as much as he wants more, wants a life bigger than Hawkins, he’d be content if none of it happens, as long as he has Steve. 

Most of all, Eddie wants to make sure he’s happy. Because fuck if anyone deserves to be happy, it’s Steve Harrington. Even if it means listening to shitty pop music in the car, or having Robin Buckley interrupt them constantly, or playing chauffeur to the gremlins everyday. Barely getting a moment to themselves. It’s worth it to see the way Steve’s eyes sparkle when he smiles. 

Eddie would do anything to see that smile.

[ofallthingsnasty]

What would croco and doffy do if you wanted to leave your job?

post referenced

tw. workplace harassment, mentions of mental illness, manipulation, yandere vibes, gn reader, minors dni

That's the thing in this scenario: They know damn well that you won't up and leave until something truly grave happens. That's how it is with depression/anxiety disorders (at least for me) - you won't change a single thing even if you fantasize about beating your forehead bloody on the work bathroom's sink every morning on your commute. It's all about slowly pushing your boundaries, even a fucking flashy bird like Doflamingo gets that. You're the frog in the pot and the heat is slowly increasing, you won't even notice just how bad things are turning until you're already gagging on Doflamingo's cock or being called 'sweetheart' by Crocodile. But early on, the other option - getting a new job, maybe quitting without another place lined up (because you see... it's hard to send out applications with the way they're working you to the bone... or at least that's what your tired brain tells you) - that is way more daunting than simply spending another week in that familiar hell, maybe even another month. You tell yourself that you'll brush up your CV during your week off - and then waste that week simply counting the days until you have to go back again, constantly torn between fretting and sleeping. Others would call you lazy and stupid, but it's how your unmedicated brain works; and they both know it, could smell it on you the moment you shuffled your starched shirt into that interview way back when.

Now, if Doflamingo played his cards wrong - and he forced you under the table too early, or if Crocodile laid into you with gusto and too much anger one day - yep, you'd leave. But both know that good things come to boys who wait; and in this case it's a malleable mess of a person, perfect to mold into whatever shape they desire. For Doflamingo, it's some simple psychological torture lunchtime fun, for Crocodile it's someone he can boss around for the rest of his life, a guaranteed little doll who'll only ever aim to please him. But that wasn't your question, was it? Let's say you have friends, maybe family who help you, who encourage you to leave and support you with everything you could ask for - that get you to finally put in your resignation. Oh. Oh. There will be hell to pay. You see, you don't ditch a man like Doflamingo just like that. He'll be furious, that carefully created, perfectly maintained facade of the cruel, calculated yet sunny big shot cracking to reveal the spoiled little boy he can be deep, deep down. He decides when you're done playing, not your sorry little ass who can't even raise your voice to tell the waitress she's brought you the wrong meal at the cheap fucking diner you eat in on Sundays. You don't get to have agency, you don't get to walk before he is done wiping the floor with you and laughing all the while. He'll give you acid, the wildest tongue lashing you've ever had in your life - and he'll make sure to get your name blacklisted, to have you crawling back into whatever shithole you came from or moving away entirely. He wants you ruined, he wants you desperate, he wants your name so encrusted in shit you'd have to get new skin to rid yourself of the stench. Only if you come back to him, tail shaking in between your mangy legs, then he'd consider forgiving you for ever having the gall to think that you're somehow on the same playing field, on the same level as him. And if you don't do just that because of your pathetic little support system - well, you better hope you never cross his path ever again. Crocodile won't be any less furious, his anger just takes on another form. You see, while his ego won't be as bruised by you putting in your two weeks - the stakes were higher for him. He wanted to keep you around, after all. And now you're slipping through his fingers, take your sad, wet eyes to another one who'll get to exploit them and play you for the perfect fool that you are. Oh, that won't do. Instead, he'll stun you with a counter offer: more money, less hours, hell, he'll give you a shitty gift card for some grocery store once a month; anything to keep you around. He'll break out into an entirely new direction, chooses to play the grumbly yet lovable boss all of a sudden. It's jarring. And it probably works because it's so bizarre. (Of course, he's still himself - he just figures he'll catch more flies with honey instead of vinegar and he can play pretend for a little while, can hide that arrogance and temper because he has a plan. In true Crocodile fashion, he'll be nice and let you off the hook for a little bit, letting you weigh yourself in a false sense of security.) He knows you were ready to leave once - now he has to step it up a notch before you'll truly pull the plug. And isn't a little office party where he'll feed you some spiked drinks and has you waking up in his bed the perfect move, then? A little bit of love-bombing, then putting a little bit of that pressure that made you crack before back on - it'll have your messed up little head spinning, feeling cornered and like a fish out of the water. It won't be his preferred way of doing things, sure, but he can't let you leave. It'll be so out of character, will blind you like a flash granade until you're suddenly stuck in that same old rut, only this time with a ring around your finger and your former boss in your bed.

[dolliestfairy]

hey idk if your req are open but if u dont mind can you make a hcs + scenario of Yuuji, Megumi & Gojo with Chubby!fem!reader who is a cutesy fairy ? like she's a fairy who love to wear the dolliest and the prettiest soft looking clothes, and also she is very shy but yet so friendly? tysm before and i really love your writings btw! :)

і ɡ𝘰t 𝗍hᥱ ᥴᥙ𝗍ᥱ𝘴𝗍 ᥆ᥒᥱ! ��� 𖥔 ͙ࣳ ⸰ֺ⭑𔓘

Yuuji, Megumi & Gojo with Chubby!fem!reader who is a fairy that loves Dolly & Cutesy Fashion 🎀 ᮫ׅ ๋ 𝆹 ׅ✿

✿ AUTHORS NOTE : hello! well yes yes this is actually my first req ever :3 and if you ask if my req are open or not, well i take req i like and i found interesting. so i never really close it. i'll close it if i put the request : closed sign in my bio if it necessary. but as long as the sign hasnt still written, them feel free to send me your interesting idea.

✿ WARNINGS : none that i aware of? maybe some misspelled word & petnames (babydoll, fairy angel, ++). reader skin color is not announced.

✧ Yuuji

omg this boii?? he freaking loves you sm. he thinks you're the vanilla-est, the softest & the prettiest fairy he ever met.

loves you so freaking much he'd try to do everything for you to keep you happy.

love how your clothes compliment your skin and those perfect combination that really show your curves in a perfect way and also those clothes who gives your fairy wings the prettiest & the most perfect looks!!

feel like he's the luckiest guy ever-!!!

and he looovess it when he sees you compliment yourself in your dolly & cutesy outfit in the mirror, he thinks you look super adorable and just cute cute cute!! 🩷

if you had a thing for plushie, he'd try to buy one every week/month if he had a mission. and after he had done his mission, he's going straight to your favourite plushie store and buys plushie that he thinks you're gonna love<3

after that, he's going to your apartement, knock at the door, and when he sees you all sleepy he chuckled a bit because he cant help but you look so adorable right now! like he can just eat your belly up!

and after that, you both are going to go some cuddles-night FULL! because yuuji really craving and begging to have cuddles with you since he's away in his mission :( <3

⤹˚˖ ♫ ୭ s-c-e-n-a-r-i-o ⸰ 𖥔 ͙ࣳ ⸰ֺ⭑

yuuji just got back from one of his important mission. he's all tired and miss you so much he felt like he's dying (this boy smh) so he goes straight to your apartement when its midnight. he knock at your door and which its make you curious yet confused of who is it.. so the second you hear a soft knock at your door, you see the window from inside in which you see your supportive bf! and he looks so tired and burnout omg.. so your first instinct was open the door, even when your hands are like really limp and your eyes all like really sleepy, but you tried your best for your bf, and when he sees your sleepy face he cant help but chuckle. "oh! *chuckles* you look really adorable babydoll﹍uhm- anyway i'm so sorry to interrupt you at midnight but i cant help i'm really tired and also i really like need cuddles rn.. so if you dont mind can we.. cuddle together?" and oh how can he even describe how happy he was when you accept him with such love. "of course yuuyuu. *yawn* i'm tired too so, lets get cuddle and sleep together <3"

✧ Megumi

he never EVER imagine in his wildest dream he would ended up falling in love with such a cutesy Fairy gf like a crazy person.

and let me tell you, this boy is actually didnt ready to have you as a gf in the first place.

but now? look at him, he's freaking loves you, so fucking much like its kinda suffocating honestly.

well how could he not??? you're just so soft, plump, and round..... need to be protected and filled with such love and affections 💌

he would never say this out loud, but he actually love the opposite vibes you both give and have! like he's the emo tsundere boy type who wears dark & (mostly) black colored clothes, and then theres his chubby cutesy fairy gf﹍You! who wear the dolliest and the most soft girl looking type of clothes. really shy but friendly at the same time, soft and round, trying your best to hide your fairy-secret, how could he just not love you?? everytime he sees you, he really want to eat your chubby cheeks, but he scared he might bit you so he always hold back </3.

if you love something like flowers, animals, or maybe plushie, then just like yuuji, he would try sometimes to buy you things you would like secretly since we all know this boy is like a tsundere type.

he also the type of bf who would 10 times more comfortable in showing his love in a quiet and serene place.

now dont get me wrong, he still shower you in compliments and appreciation in publics, but in a more quiet place where it was just you and him? be prepared to be dead by suffocating and drowning from his affection and compliments lol <3.

⤹˚˖ ♫ ୭ s-c-e-n-a-r-i-o ⸰ 𖥔 ͙ࣳ ⸰ֺ⭑

Your bf!Megumi has just invite you to some flower garden this afternoon. after you heard his invitation, you quickly get your ass up from your bed, and prepare for the um.. date? ﹍ anyway- after a couple of minutes you finally have done your outfits! all pink dolly and soft, your wings is hiding in your back, your pixie ears compliment your face & hairs, your nails are done, your cutesy makeup are done too, perfect! time to meet your lovely bf Megumi! ﹍ 14 minutes when you finally arrived at the flower garden, you see your bf in a very gentleman suit, he look just so handsome! you see some girls trying to flirt with him but he quickly shoved them off, still havent realizing your appreance. and after a couple of minutes, he's looking at his phone again after he just shused one of the girls that trying to get into him in which he sees you message

{ Babe! i'm literally around you rn... :( }

he quickly turned around left & right, then & there in which he find you! oh god your Vanilla perfume almost makes him suffocating! "fairy angel i'm so sorry i didnt se-" "its ok meguu.. its fine." you told him. and then you ask him why did he invite you here in which he replied "i found a cafe that you may like. so i want to go there with you. would you like too?" while saying that, he sees your eyes are widening and your mouth are slowly gagging open in which you replied "Are you kidding me meguu!? oh i've come here all dressed like a bambi fairy doll rn so what are we waiting for? <3" he sees how excited you are in which he cant help but chuckle as he shyly hold your hands and says "lets go darling ୧₊˚ ⸰ 𖥔 ͙ࣳ ⸰ֺ⭑"

✧ Gojo

flirty, flirty, affection.

yup thats the right way to describe this guy.

almost nut after he realize he have a strong feelings for you.

he really love your pixie ears!! they're so cute and pointy. and they somehow makes you more cute and feminine.

and he also love the combination of your fairy wings with your round body!

everytime he put his eyes on your face or your dolly outfits he cant pull them back. he just stare at you because you just look so fucking ethereal and he still trying to proceed about how in the heck he can get so lucky to get someone like you?? you're like the best thing he's ever experienced.

he fricking loves your style! and i can see he's the type of man who would go to buy a match clothes with you. in other words you both sometimes wear dolly clothing together!

his favorite thing to do is when he's free, where he's at your apartement, and you both watch some random movies with matching soft looking pjs ❁♡

everytime he's gone on a mission, he always remembered those each time. and he sometimes wonder what are you doing right now and ect. and thats the reason why he sometimes bragging it to his others companion like his friends or students..

and after he's done from his mission, he goes REALLY STRAIGHT to your apartement, no matter if its midnight, afternoon, or morning.. he's going to knock at your door, and when you open it, you're gonna get jumpscared by this big goofball sudden hugs.

⤹˚˖ ♫ ୭ s-c-e-n-a-r-i-o ⸰ 𖥔 ͙ࣳ ⸰ֺ⭑

this day he's so excited! gojo and his team has already done the mission yesterday night, and was ready to flight off to their region, although.. maybe gojo is a little bit of too ready. well you cant blame him. he miss you so much! also do you even know what days is there! its his freaking birthday!! all of his buddies already saying "happy birthday" to him but he really want ones from you! so after he landed back to his region, he goes fast as fuck to your apartement, but since he's so fast he didnt peek up through your window in which at that time you were piping for his birthday cake! so the second he smack at your door ..﹍ yes. he smacked at your door, you go straight scared of course.. you accidentaly throw his cake who was still in progression while his big body was throwing into yours, you see the cake flying above your head like its kinda slowing a little bit. you were really scared that you froze. but after seeing the guys who is hugging you, and after you see his white hair, you finally snapped back and said "toru?.." he look up at you, in which you were... dont know how to feel. well you were happy he was back but you also cant help but feel furious and anger because he just ruin the birthday cake you made for him. "babe its my-" "i know toru..! its your birthday... but you just fricking ruined the cake i was made for you!.." he sees your face sadden in which he quickly replies "oh no no no no, its- its no matter baby, i'll-﹍i mean we'll make it all over again." "really? but you promised me you wont screwed up ok?" "yes baby. i promise i wont."

[steddieasitgoes]

written for @eddiemonth Day 8 Prompt: Rockstar a/n: loosely inspired by this AU idea I had a few weeks ago. there's some mild sexual content at the end so 18+ only, please!

read on ao3 | link to my ao3 Eddie Month series

Eddie has never been so happy to be wrong in his entire life.

When their record label originally pitched charting a sailing yacht for their “You Survived Your First World Tour” party, Eddie threw a bit of a fit.

Okay, it was a pretty big fucking tantrum, but, like, they had just spent nine months crammed into bunks on their bus and sharing shitty hotel rooms. Sue him for wanting a bit of space to stretch his legs and let the energy of their world tour timer out of him.

No sane person would want to celebrate the end of a grueling but rewarding nine months by being shoved onto a stupid boat that swayed and rocked and could very much end up with the entire band drowned in the middle of the fucking ocean. (He’s not sure if there’s such a thing as an end of your first world tour curse, but if there is, it would definitely wreak havoc on Eddie and the Corroded Coffin boys.)

Not to mention being trapped in the middle of the fucking ocean with no escape route in sight made Eddie’s claustrophobia skyrocket.

No thanks. Not a fucking chance in hell.

But then Jeff happened. Sweet, sensible, always there to talk Eddie down from the hill he’s willing to die on. Before Eddie knew it, the yacht was booked, and a private car was waiting for them to whisk them off to the dock to start their seven-day celebratory vacation.

Eddie had stomped his way up the ramp and onto the stupid yacht with his arms crossed and his rolling eyes hidden behind his dark sunglasses. The scowl on his face was supposed to be permanent, but then—

“Welcome aboard.”

There have been moments in Eddie’s life where the entire world freezes, and he gets tunnel vision. The first time Wayne sat him down and placed the old acoustic over his lap. Corroded Coffin’s first real gig at the dive bar in their hometown. And their official first gig at the same bar where people actually came to see them instead of to drink the cheap beer. That call from their now agent. The time they stepped foot in a fancy recording booth for the first time.

Hell, he gets that tunnel vision, world-freezing moment every time he steps on stage to play for a packed crowd.

It’s a welcome feeling, one Eddie’s become accustomed to. But, never, in his wildest dreams, did he think he’d be experiencing it now, standing on some stupid yacht. But then again, he wasn't prepared to be staring down the prettiest man he’s ever seen.

The Adonis-like man smiles at him, hand outstretched in some kind of welcome handshake. Eddie’s own hand moves on its own accord, slipping into the man’s grasp. How he manages to not slip his fingers between the man's and never let go is beyond him. But he’s glad his conscious has the ability to show some restraint.

Because his mind certainly isn’t. Too busy running through scenario after scenario, all ending with the man’s pristine white polo discarded, preferably into the choppy waves below, his slacks yanked down to his knees, and his sun-kissed back bent over the railing.

Jesus H. Christ.

Somehow, Eddie manages to float down the line of other deckhands, shaking their eager hands and smiling fondly as some of them sing their praises about him and his band. The curly-haired boy at the end seems to be the biggest fan, practically bouncing on his feet before the Captain, a stern-looking man, shoots him a look.

The Captain, Hopper, Eddie thinks the man’s name is, starts talking about the plan for the next seven days, but it goes in one ear and out the other as Eddie shuffles over to where Jeff is listening intently. A swift elbow to the rib is all it takes, though, to get Jeff to focus on him instead.

“What?” Jeff whispers, glancing at Eddie.

“You didn’t tell me this stupid boat included a literal Greek God!” Eddie hisses, leaning into Jeff’s side. “I wouldn’t have put up such a fight had I known. I mean, look at him! He’s—“

Jeff snorts, elbowing Eddie back. “Behave,” he warns before turning his attention back to Captain Hopper.

Behave? Ha! I’ll behave all right. Just as soon as I get my hands on him.

⛵️ ⛵️ ⛵️

“Robin!” Steve hisses, sneaking up behind her as she carries a stack of empty plates from dinner service down the stairs.

“What the hell, Dingus,” she snaps, dishes clattering in her hands as she shoots her free hand out to steady herself. “You know better than to scare me on the stairs when I’m carrying things!”

Steve shrugs his shoulders, wincing in a weird apology of sorts before taking some of the plates from her hands. “I need a favor,” he says as they continue on.

Robin shakes her head, a silent “we’ll talk about this in a minute” look exchanged as they hand off the empty plates to Argyle. A moment later, Steve finds himself being tugged into their small, shared bedroom for some privacy.

“What do you want?”

“Pretend to be sick tomorrow? I’ll tell Hop you’re not feeling good and let one of the deckhands do my job for the day, and I’ll take over as charter host.”

Steve tries not to squirm under Robin’s scrutiny. All narrow eyes and arms crossed. Like she’s staring directly into his soul. He both loves and hates that she knows him so well.

“This is about him, isn’t it?”

“Can you blame me?” he whisper shouts, throwing his hands on his hips. “It’s been months since I’ve gotten laid, Robin. Months! And now, Eddie fucking Munson is on our ship looking like that, and I’m what? Not supposed to feel anything?”

“You know Hop would fire you if he caught you hooking up with a guest, right? Especially one of Munson’s status.”

“He won’t find out.”

“Steve,” Robin sighs. “You’re not that stealthy.”

“Excuse you, I am very stealthy. Like a ninja, actually,” Steve pouts. “But I won't have to be stealthy. I won't be hooking up with him here.”

For the first time in a long time, Robin is generally shocked by the words leaving Steve’s mouth. He can’t help the surge of pride that courses through him. See, he thinks, you don’t know everything about me.

“So, what’s the plan then?”

“Tomorrow, there’s a water day planned and then a beachside dinner. You call in sick. I became the charter host and spend the whole day flirting with him. And then at dinner, I somehow get him to follow me to that tourist trap of a bar a mile up the road with the big, single bathroom and—“

“I’ve heard enough!” she shouts, slamming her hands over her ears.

A silence falls between them as Robin makes a show of considering the plan, and Steve contemplates getting on his knees to beg for her help. Thankfully, she saves him the embarrassment (and his knees from any soreness that would prevent tomorrow’s activities from happening) and agrees to the plan.

“I swear to God, Steve, if you get caught and fired, I will kill you. You can’t leave me here alone.”

He laughs, pulling her into a hug before Robin heads back out to finish up her chores. Steve stays behind, calling it a night early. He’s going to need all the sleep he can get if his plan is going to work tomorrow.

⛵️ ⛵️ ⛵️

Thanks to Jeff’s constant presence and Gareth's watchful eye from across the room, Eddie reluctantly behaved the first night. Said please and thank you when he was asked for his drink and food order. Made small talk with the other deckhands and even stealthy signed a CD for the curly-haired kid who introduced himself as his biggest fan and then by his actual name, Dustin.

Eddie wasn't exactly pleased with his proper behavior, but it was a bit easy to play the part of the good rockstar when Mr. Greek God, aka Steve, as he came to find out, kept his distance from him. From what he gathered in the few short hours on the sailing yacht, Steve is the second in command around here, meaning he’s constantly being pulled in different directions, much to Eddie’s chagrin.

However, that seems to have changed this morning when Steve’s the one bringing up a delicious spread of breakfast foods. Buttery warm croissants, pancakes the size of his head. Even some bastard breakfast pizza that Steve says is the chef’s specialty. It all looks great but not nearly as delicious as Steve looks in his red, slightly too-tight polo.

And then, as if a gift from the universe for his behavior the day before, Steve tells them Robin is feeling under the weather, and he'll be their charter host for the day. Thankfully, Steve runs off to start setting things up in the water and misses Eddie's pathetic reaction to the news. 

Now, Steve’s currently shouting orders at a pair of deckhands as they lower a jet ski into the waters below. His voice is commanding, and Eddie knows in an instant that he’d do anything Steve tells him to do if he speaks to him like that. And Eddie doesn’t ever give up being in control, so, like, the thought really fucks him up in the best way possible.

As if that’s not bad enough, the minute the stupid jet ski hits the water, Steve tears off his too-tight red polo and throws it down on the deck beside him before kicking off his shoes. His sun-kissed skin is on full display, and it’s even prettier than Eddie imagined. (And boy, did he spend the entire night imagining it while alone in the main suite.) Eddie only has time to ogle for a moment before Steve races down the steps to the lower dock and dives into the open ocean like a fucking Olympian.

Jesus H. Christ, who is this man?

“You’re drooling,” Jeff teases, swatting Eddie with the linen napkin.

“Can you blame me?” Eddie asks, dragging the back of his hand across his lips. “Look at him. He’s a work of art, and I want to destroy him.”

“Seriously, Eddie?” Jeff laughs, shaking his head. “He’s just some guy.”

“No, you are just some guy. Gareth is just some guy. That guy I hooked up with in London with the piercing blue eyes? That was just some guy. Steve over there…” Eddie trails off, literally swooning. He pillows his chin in his hands, elbows digging into the warm railing of the boat as he looks out into the ocean. Steve’s straddling a jetski now, life vest thrown haphazardly over his body, unsecured.

“You’re down so bad,” Jeff laughs.

“I’m not even joking, Jeffy. You might have to find a new lead guitarist. I think I’m going to be staying here forever.”

“Slow it down, Romeo. What if he’s not even into guys?”

“Oh, trust me,” Eddie says, turning to look at Jeff with a wicked grin and mischief in his eyes. “He doesn’t have to be into guys; he just has to be into me. And I can do that with one very skilled blow—“

“Yeah, yeah, you’re the Blowjob King or whatever,” Jeff says, rolling his eyes. He takes a sip from his beer and lets his eyes drift out to the ocean, following Eddie’s gaze to where Steve is. “Just be careful, okay? We’re stuck here for six more days. Don’t make things awkward.”

“You don’t have to worry about me,” Eddie says, licking his lips as Steve pulls himself up onto the boat’s platform. He eyes Steve like an animal stalking his prey. Tunnel vision hits him as Steve shakes the water from his hair and rubs a towel over his gorgeous, hairy chest. “It’s him you should be worried about.”

⛵️ ⛵️ ⛵️

Steve has enough time to turn the lock of the single-stall bathroom at the Tropical Getaway Bar before Eddie is on him. Crowding into his space and pushing him back, back, back until his shoulders collide with the door.

“I’ve been wanting to do this since the minute I saw you,” Eddie groans before smashing their lips together.

It’s quick and dirty, and Steve tries to chase Eddie’s lips when he pulls away, but then Eddie’s lips are on his neck. If it weren’t for Eddie’s firm grip on his hips, Steve would be a puddle on the floor.

Eddie works fast, yanking the polo from where it’s been tucked into his stupid khaki shorts before fiddling with the belt. In one fluid motion, Eddie pulls the belt free and throws it across the room without a care in the world. He’s pretty sure he hears it splash into the toilet, but he can’t bring himself to care. He’s got other belts on the ship.

And then Eddie lowers himself to the ground, chasing the tug of Steve’s shorts until they’re both on the grimy bathroom floor. Steve’s not sure how long he’s going to last — god damn months-long dry spell — but he hopes it's long enough to permanently burn the image of Eddie on his knees into his head forever.

“I have one request,” Eddie says, gazing up at Steve with blown brown eyes. Index finger dragging up and down the inside of Steve’s thighs, coaxing goosebumps to rise on his skin despite the humid temperature in the bathroom.

“Anything,” Steve gasps when Eddie abandons his light teasing and grabs Steve with one hand, squeezing just enough to burn in the best way. The moan that falls from his lips is embarrassing, but Steve doesn’t care. “Anything for you, rockstar.”

Eddie chuckles at the nickname and leans forward until Steve can feel his warm breath against him. “Use that pretty mouth of yours and tell me what you want,” Eddie says, pressing a kiss to the tip of Steve’s dick. “Can you do that for me, baby?”

“Yeah!” Steve nods, hips bucking up into Eddie’s face on their own accord. “Yeah, I can do that.”

“Good,” Eddie hums. “Then start giving orders, Captain.”

[country-n-sassy]

1. What is your ultimate sexual fantasy?

2. Have you ever had a one-night stand?

3. What turns you on the most during foreplay?

4. Have you ever played with yourself in bed while having someone next to you without them knowing?

5. What is the naughtiest thing you’ve ever done in public?

6. Describe your favorite role-playing scenario.

7. Have you ever had a threesome or considered having one?

8. What is your favorite place to have intimate moments besides the bedroom?

9. What is your favorite sex toy?

10. Share a secret sexual fantasy that you’ve never told anyone before.

11. What is your opinion on experimenting with bondage or BDSM?

12. What is the kinkiest thing you’ve ever done with a partner?

13. Have you ever had a crush on someone else while in a relationship?

14. What is your favorite type of foreplay?

15. Describe your wildest sexual experience.

16. How do you feel about public displays of affection?

17. Have you ever had a sexy dream about someone else?

18. What is your favorite way to initiate intimacy?

19. Have you ever tried any tantric techniques or practices?

20. Share a sexual fantasy that you would like to fulfill.

21. What is the most adventurous place you’ve ever had sex?

22. What is something new you would like to try in the bedroom?

23. What is your ultimate turn-on when it comes to dirty talk?

24. Have you ever had a sexual fantasy about someone you know in real life?

25. Have you ever had a sexual encounter in a vehicle? If so, where?

Oh my 😳😳

1. I just want to be enough for someone, bot secually and emotionally. Call me old school, but I just want one person who thinks I'm the most amazing woman on the planet and doesn't feel the need to search for more.

2. *giggle* Yeah... a few.

3. Passion and spontaneity. Listening and paying attention to what the other person wants and adjusting.

4. No. I am not one to say no. If you're in the mood, I'll drop what I'm doing, even if I'm not really in the mood. I expect the same in my return.

5. Hmmmmm, it's been a hot minute. Nothing to crazy, probably sex in an RV park shower with other people on both sides of us.

6. I haven't done much role playing.

7. I've had a few threesomes, nothing to write home about, unfortunately.

8. Ummmm, anywhere and everywhere!!! No place is off limits if the mood strikes and we're both up for it.

9. I like my vibrators. I'm not a big fan of playing with myself 😕 I'm a get in, get off, get out type.

10. Well, I've never told anyone about it, I'm not about to tell EVERYONE about it now. Lol

11. I'm not into BDSM, but to each their own. I have been tied up a couple of times, but I have some trust issues that make me panic. Plus, I like to touch, and I don't like being told what to do.

12. Again, nothing too crazy, just anal.

13. I have had a crush on someone who was in a relationship. Technically, when I was in a relationship. I was married but separated.

15. I'm old... there's been a few. Lol. I'm not too crazy, but after I've had a few drinks, I feel super sexy and will usually go home and ride my man, touching myself and being very vocal with naughty talk. That's probably "the wildest" I get.

16. If you are opposed to pda, we won't make it. I'm all about touching and being touched.

17. Oh, good lord... YESSSSSS!!!! Who doesn't???

18. Favorite way? Any way... all ways.... yes.

19. Nope. I'm not the patient type

20. There's a mutual I would really like to spend the weekend with and never leave the hotel room.😈

21. I don't know if it was all that adventurous, but one of my favorite sexual adventures was outdoors when I was hunting with my then husband, we fucked on the 4 wheeler. He laid on the seat, facing the rear of the 4 wheeler, and I rode him. The leverage was amazing and in the open, fresh air. It's one of my all-time favorite times.

22. Well, at this point, I would like to find a new man to play with and have all kinds of new adventures. In the bedroom and other places.

23. I'm not sure I have a favorite...

24. Yeah, I have had some sexual fantasies about a coworker. 😬

25. A few, my favorite was when my ex and I fucked in the backseat of our pickup while a friend of ours drove around on backroads. My other favorite... I can't tell you about 😏

[cerastes]

yo check out this video game *it's like 5 old testaments worth of writing*

Hey haha wanna watch a cool video game? *locks the door and swallows the key* I lied to you, we're going to read a cool video game instead, you absolute nimrod, you inexcusable sack of confetti.

And its name is the mouthful that is The Legend of Heroes: Trails from Zero, or as we at the archeology site call it, Zero no Kiseki, my favorite RPG ever (well, half of my favorite RPG ever, the other half being its sequel), it is the best book you'll ever play, and I want to share it.

Did you ever wonder what would happen at your first day at the job, and you made up all these wild scenarios of awful things that would happen but of course they are super exaggerated? Ok what if there's a fantasy RPG not about setting out on an adventure to find your missing dad, but rather, just having the wildest fucking 9 to 5 in the world, but the salary is ok and it offers dental so you fistfight God about it anyways? Well, that's what we'll be doing, sort of, don't take my word for it, we're reading the book together.

I'm going to experiment to see how this goes and if it's a fun streaming experience, we'll continue it. Not consecutively, though, because if I only stream this game until it's done, we'll be here 'till 2026.

We're live! Hop in!

[peaches2217]

ermmmmmm…. 💋 and 🎢? 👉🏾👈🏾

💋 First kiss fics. Love em or hate em?

Done right, they can be some of the softest, flutteriest fics out there! @silenzahra just recently wrote one the sweetest first-kiss scenarios I have ever read, oh my God I was kicking my legs the whole time. FLOATING SO HIGH THEY COULD TOUCH THE CLOUDS AND THEY WERE SO WRAPPED UP IN EACH OTHER THEY DIDN’T EVEN NOTICE! AAAAAAAAAH!

As for writing them… I’ve written a handful, but they’ve historically been some of my weaker offerings. I wrote one for Kung Fu Panda that was so lackluster that everyone just. Elected to pretend it didn’t exist. 😅 So ever since then, I approach first kisses very hesitantly and rarely draw them out. I did a speculative piece on Mareach’s first kiss a while back, which I ended up compressing into a single sentence at the end of Rescue, and other than that… I don’t trust myself to do those scenarios any justice! 😆

🎢 Which of your fics would you call your wildest ride?

Either Plateau or Everything’s Okay. Plateau was pretty straightforward: I knew I wanted to write a dom/sub scenario that also explored emotional repression and vulnerability. Y’know, cliche Peaches shit. 😂 The wildness came from the fact that it was both the first smut I’d written in years, and the fact that it was Mareach smut. When I came into the fandom around this time last year, there was sort of this attitude of “They’re so wholesome and sweet! They’d never do something so filthy and primal as having sex ☺️” (which, granted, that was on Twitter, and I jumped ship the second I rejoined Tumblr full-time), so I was. INCREDIBLY nervous about how it would be perceived. I was pleasantly shocked at the positive feedback, and I’ve been a lot more open with such topics since!

Everything’s Okay was built around a single idea that I thought would be fun to center a story around: Mario stress-vomiting and then having a dissociative episode. That was all I had going in. I wrote the entire fucking fic by the seat of my pants. I’d get an idea and be like “Oh! Could I fit this in? Well I can certainly try!” And as such, it was… all over the place. 😅 Eventually I found an actual central theme to ground it in (Mario’s trauma and how it influences him for better and worse — I am, if nothing else, predictable!), at which point I was able to polish it into something at least semi-readable. @squagel can probably attest that it was rough prior to publication, and I can never extol her patience and feedback enough. 💗

[jpeg-dot-jpeg]

1, 19, 21, 36, & 39 for the ask game pls? 💖

Which of your fics would you keep the basic plot of but rewrite completely?

Mmmmmm probably Small Price, Necessary Sacrifice. I love a good breaking the bed trope but it was one of my very first fics Ever so i find the writing very. unrefined.

19. Share a snippet from a wip without giving any context for it.

Bruce answered the nurse’s remaining questions in a daze, nodding and humming at all the right times, signing the paperwork that was handed to him, pulling his clothes back on once she’d left. His head was a barren desert with a hollow whistling passing through it and a tumbleweed rolling across the empty landscape. The tumbleweed being his single coherent thought of, Fuck.  It didn’t hit him until he was standing in the middle of the parking garage trying to remember where he’d parked his car. “Holy shit,” he said aloud to the line of apathetic vehicles in front of him. He bent over, bracing his hands on his knees. “Christ on a fucking bicycle.”

21. Can you accurately predict how long your fics are going to be? If you can, what's your secret?

Vaguely? I always know before I start whether what I'm writing will be a one-shot, short chaptered, or long chaptered, but sequels and extra chapters have a way of sneaking up on me. I can guess word count pretty accurately when I'm doing a writing challenge because the amount of time I have to write is more specific.

36. How do you come up with fic titles? What's the one you're most proud of?

Depends on the fic! If one is inspired by a song it gets a lyric title, but other than that I just go by general vibes. Whatever the main theme of the story is usually informs the title.

My favorite fic title is Detective Timothy Drake and the Mysterious Case of the Unclaimed Dildo, cuz i think it's hilarious, but the one I'm most proud of is probably Phleum Pratense because its a sneaky clue as to the contents of the story.

39. Wildest AU scenario you have written?

okay i have a wip going right now where all of the batkids are bruce's biological children. and all of the other biological parents happen to be members of the rogues gallery. so that one's kinda wild.

Gifting you a bouquet of rice shiefs in thanks for the ask, tauria 🌾🌾🌾🌾🌾🌾🌾🌾🌾🌾🌾🌾🌾

[prpfz]

✨🍸 hiya! 20+ writer here coming in with a very specific & smutty request for my fellow 20+ writers. i have a particular character i’m looking to flesh out and i’d really like to play her in some nsfw plots. lazylit, m/f for this particular request, open to (potentially) doubling if there’s another pairing you want to incorporate into this. the smuttier the better, here, and dead dove material is always very welcome!

the character: ivy. about nineteen. she’s the daughter of a protestant reverend, but rebelled against her religious upbringing and ran off to the big city to live a life of bohemian sin as an artist & model. she’s clever and mischievous and a bit of a tease, but (though she won’t admit it) feels a terrible guilt over how she left home; to compensate, she has an unfortunate habit of seeking validation from men through sex and plays endless games, stringing people along. at her worst, she’s opportunistic, manipulative, and a bit spoilt; at her best, she’s ride-or-die loyal, fearless, and witty. think laura palmer from twin peaks or maxine minx from the x trilogy. perfume and vodka, fur coats and fishnet stockings, doing lines of cocaine off the bathroom sink. she’s the girl you want when you’re sabotaging your own marriage with a scandalous affair or robbing a liquor store at gunpoint, but not the girl you ever settle down with. ivy’s current faceclaim is havana rose liu, but i’d be open to changing it if there’s someone else you’d prefer to see.

as for who i think she’d pair well against:

the hanged man! i’d love to incorporate some class/social tension into this & write ivy against someone radically different. a drifter or a vagrant or a petty criminal, some ragged and disheveled man she meets in the street. maybe we go in a more dubcon direction, and she’s drunk and he takes advantage of an opportunity? maybe she wants to shock people and cause a stir, so she drags him along to some fancy party as her unlikely date? maybe she sees an opportunity to ‘atone’ for her sins and tries to be his benefactor, giving him money and coke and a good fuck? in any case, i absolutely adore the idea of some extreme contrasts here: bring me your dirtiest & most down-on-his-luck old bastard and ivy will make all his wildest dreams come true.

the hermit! bit of a cliché, but i’d love to write a plot where she’s hitchhiking on her way to the city and gets picked up by a driver. maybe he’s rather amoral and wants some sort of ‘compensation’ in exchange, and she reluctantly (or happily) obliges. maybe he’s an honest citizen and kindly offers to let her stay the night in his quaint little farmhouse, only for her to end up mischievously seducing him. or maybe they’re stranded by a flat tire or engine problems, and have to spend the night together at a seedy hotel. anything’s possible! either way, i’m imagining lots of neon signs, night drives, sex in the parking lot behind the waffle house, etc.

the devil! here’s the chance for all sorts of dubcon and dead dove things. as a rule, ivy makes impulsive decisions and takes a lot of risks, and naturally that might lead to some perilous situations. she’s not scared of much, but maybe she should be. does a drug deal go bad? does she try stringing your character along and get punished for it? who knows! equally, i’d be interested in a scenario where the tables are turned—maybe a would-be killer abducts her, only for ivy to try her hand at manipulating him. who’s the real danger, who’s the victim, etc.

the hierophant! or we could go the exact opposite direction, with your character being incredibly moral and wanting to help and/or reform her. a good samaritan, a priest or minister like her father was, or maybe some hapless innocent boy who hasn’t (yet) caught on to her tricks. ideally, it doesn’t work and she corrupts him instead. look, i’m a simple girl with simple tastes and i can’t resist a good old-fashioned priest x harlot dynamic.

thanks for reading!

give a like and anon will get back to you

[theleotorrio]

Hi! For the fanfic writer ask game: I, M, and T, please! :)

Hii! Thanks for the ask!

I: How many fandoms have you written in?  Do you have a favorite?

Uff, if i count all of them, irrespective of whether I posted them, I think 6? I do think my favourite is Sanctuary as my brain wants to tell the most stories in this, which is a lot of fun. So yeah, I think Sanctuary, there is a lot to work with

(then there is also this Nietzsche/gerssdorff fanfic I wrote in uni instead of paying attention to the lecture about Nietzsche, but I don't count that as fandom work...)

M: What’s the weirdest AU scenario you’ve ever come up with?  Did it turn into a story?

I don't really think about AUs much so I don't think any of them could actually be called weird for that matter. But I think the wildest one is a 'The Magnus Archives Sanctuary AU' where the Magnus Institute plus all the eldritch horrors from that universe exist also in the Sanctuary world, which makes for a really fucked up world. It did not turn into a story, it's just something I entertain myself with, when I need a cheer up.

Alternately the weirdest one could be the Stargate Time Riders AU, which I started turning into a story but abandoned years ago...

T: Any fanfic tropes you can’t stand?

Hmm, I once again feel like a picky reader but I think the worst one for me is Miscommunication, I find it incredibly frustrating, just talk to each other!!! I can also be a pretty hard sell on enemies to lovers, if the enemies stage is too abusive to the point where i find it inauthentic that you could fall in love with the other one after that, it's a no.

[kohakhearts]

for fic writer meme: 7, 18, 26, and 40, and feel free to answer for both fic and original work if you want :D

thank you!! :D

7: how do you choose which pov to write from?

in terms of 3rd/2nd/1st, usually i default to 3rd but some stories just...are meant to be 1st person, if that makes sense lol. like i have one original project where the mc gets possessed by a demon at some point and it's told in 1st person to like...really solidify the idea that they've become one person in a sense. in terms of which character the pov follows, that's just a result of blorboism LOL. in original works it's just...who the first character i conceived of was, usually. i'd say the protagonist but lets be real - nerissa is NOT the protagonist of osa. she's his older sister :p (she gets protag status by oes on account of getting herself killed so he doesn't have to put himself in harm's way anymore ofc)

18: do you title your fics before, during, or after the writing process? how do you come up with titles?

it really depends on the fic. sometimes i have a title before anything else. sometimes it comes midway through after i've written a particular line and been like "oh that's good, let's make that the title!" and sometimes it's well after the fact when i'm staring at the ao3 draft like what the fuck do i call you. i'd say usually it's the first scenario though, and then i try to work the title into the text somehow. i've taken inspiration from a lot of things for titles, but in general i like my titles to reference specific lines or motifs in the fic itself!

26: which of your fics would you call your wildest ride?

...pretty much any multichapter i've ever written LOL. i'll give a special shoutout to ratc and entanglement for being ideas that i was like "oh this will be like 10k words probably lol" and then turning into novels. entanglement in particular, for getting so long i had no choice but to divide it into chapters lmao

40: if someone were to make fanart of your work, what fic or scene would you hope to see?

ok there are actually a lot HAHA. i was going to commission a piece of nerissa and poseidon from the scene in oes where they're sitting on the back step at emerson's house after poseidon accidentally possessed her. that's definitely one i'd love to see an artistic rendition of. and probably the final scene in oes, too, or the scene in osa where nerissa carries him out of the sea at namthi!

as for fic...i have a lot of fic, so i'll try to keep this short hjsdfhjdkf but in terms of recent ones...there's this scene from this year's christmas fic where goh kissed gary for the first time:

or tbh...i'd love to see an artistic rendition of my palletshipping hanahaki au. y'know, for the flower imagery

or like ANY scene from sound sleepless, honestly. i love those quiet, late-night conversations (relatedly...a friend drew a scene out of common ground a few years ago, which i ADORE). the scene near the end with ash and lucario is also a fave of mine that i think would make a really sweet drawing.

there's also a scene in entanglement that i won't share bc it's big plot spoilers but it's one of those sappy "character a is crying and character b wipes the tears off their face" scenes we all know and love haha

ok i'll stop here but genuinely....there are so many. and i have received a few fanarts for scenes or character in osa that i love so, so much. and i would love any kind of art someone drew for something i wrote. i love that spirit of collaboration that comes out of things like that!!!

get to know your fic writer!