#this new editor is the pits

[get-back-homeward]

Imagine this

How Do You Sleep that

Have you considered the most interesting song on the Imagine album may be How?

George was right. The song deserves attention.

Tumblr search is zero help on this song because it only picks up How Do You Sleep. But has anyone ever written about it?

Given John’s “How? + Why?” response to Paul’s 12-page letter about dissolving the partnership, I think it’s worth looking at. That exchange is sometime in summer 1970.

Song Origins

The earliest version of How? is a home demo dated as late 1970. This demo only has the “we” part of the song:

How can we go forward When we don’t know which way we're facing? How can we go forward When we don’t know which way to turn? How can we be certain About something we’re not sure of? Oh, no, oh, no

In the final version, this part is the end of the song (the bolded words change slightly). This ending is a shift from the personal “I” used in the rest of the song. So he started with “we” in 1970 and then evolved it into more self-directed reflection over time.

The demo is very rough, he's still searching for the notes. But something about it made me think of Look At Me, which has a similar plaintive tone and features several existential questions to the listener (Who am I supposed to be? and Who are we?). Look at Me originates from India and has an earlier 1968 demo that captures a glimpse of John’s state of mind during this crucial time. The How? demo would be recorded around the same time John is revisiting Look At Me to record formally for the Plastic Ono Band album.

The added self-reflection verses continue the same format of existential questions, moving from feelings to love. It's a blatantly honest look at depression in the wake of a loss, which I think George would have noticed and in some sense seen himself in. It's unclear when these verses are added (John just says “last year” in 1971 for all the verses), but they are probably influenced by John's experience of undergoing Janov's primal scream therapy (April-September 1970?). Possibly the questions left unanswered at the end of those 6 months.

How can I have feeling when I don't know if it's a feeling?

How can I give love when I don't know what it is I'm giving?

All three verses include the idea of uncertainty (I don’t know), which could be its own essay on existentialism vs epistemology in the face of a destabilizing event. But for now, let’s focus on the emotional aspect. Here, two places ascribe blame to drive his uncertainty: his feelings have always been denied and love is something he never had. This seems to go a bit far, but remember depression is a liar and part of Janov's therapy was probably that John’s closest relationships had all been a lie.

John adds the middle eight during Imagine sessions. It balances the bleakness of depression with the will to live:

You know life can be long

And you got to be so strong

And the world is so tough

Sometimes I feel I've had enough

This middle eight repeats twice, and each time, the end fuses to the first word of the questioning verses, without the typical space of a few beats in between. This lack of space suggests a relationship, as if the questions are part of the fight to keep him going past the bleakness of feeling like giving up.

Its first recording is May 26, 1971, nine days after Ram is released. Take 31 and Take 40 (Raw Studio Mix) were released on the Ultimate release of the album but aren't too different from the final lyrics/melody wise.

Supposedly, another version of How? includes a question about home: “how can I go home when home is something I have never had” and it’s not clear which lines replace it. Perhaps “how can I give love when I don’t know what it is I’m giving?” Questions of home would be a result of Janov’s primal scream digging into his childhood and bringing forth old wounds. But in the absence of a physical home, it’s the people around you who become your home. This home line makes me think of that Get Back sessions moment, when John shares with Paul his excitement about getting Apple Studio functional and feeling like home. It's a picture of feelings being denied in action as Paul responds by changing the subject. For whatever reason, this home line gets cut by Take 31.

The placement of How? in the album tracklist is curious too, directly after the angry Paul-directed How Do You Sleep. Its title holds the same question but none of the anger. It’s like an echo of How Do You Sleep, informing the source of its anger and revealing what it masks: fear and indecision about the future.

Song Context

It’s interesting to place this song next to Ram, where the overwhelming theme is the exact opposite: grab life by the horns and move forward to find your own way. Ram sessions started in NYC in October 1970, around the same time as the How? demo. Each song, from Too Many People to Back Seat, reveals Paul’s mental exercise of extricating himself from his former life and moving on with his family in Scotland. Personally and professionally, Paul is building a new home away from John.

The final version of How? is produced more in the vein of The Long and Winding Road, the song at the nexus of the breakup. Its beginning is marked by the same distinct stop-start syncopated beat and the instrumentation builds across the song to make a bleak song more palatable. If Paul didn’t turn off the record the moment he heard John’s diss track, he would have almost certainly picked up How?’s link to TL&WR. That song being his own plaintive moment of fearing the future, considering life without the band that was his world. And the last straw when Spector remixed it without his approval.

In his April 1971 LIFE interview that precedes the Ram release, Paul shares a recent exchange between him and John. John recalls the infamous “bubble bursting” question, and Paul corrects him in the past tense: the bubble has already burst. This is one of several exchanges where Paul’s saying catch up, it’s done, let me go and John’s saying what does that even mean?!

Hearing Paul’s declaration of independence on Ram made John angry. He calls How Do You Sleep “an outburst” in response to Ram and not reflective of how he thinks of Paul all the time. But Ram also gave him a direction forward that McCartney did not. If John thought the album had messages to taunt him, he almost certainly heard the taunt in Monkberry Moon Delight:

Catch up! Cats and kittens Don’t get left behind

I don’t know about you, but hearing that taunt from my ex-partner/BFF/lover/whatever would certainly make me angry, hot enough to ignite my competitive streak and get to work.

It reminds me of the moment Fred Seaman recalls in 1980, when John hears Paul's Coming Up:

John told me that Paul was the only musician who could scare him into writing great songs, and vice versa.

Imagine is hardly my favorite John solo album. I'm not about to dismiss the terrible things John said about Paul or Ram or forget how the bad press buried the album for years. But I think in focusing on the anger, we can miss the simple fact that Ram inspiring John to write anything was actually the biggest compliment he could give. Sometimes, anger is the only fuel available to drive you forward, where anything is preferable to nothing. It’s not ideal or fair, and it’s up to you to pick up the mess of your storm later, but it’s something. Like a basic survival instinct kicking in in the midst of drowning. Any fight that pushing you back to the surface is preferable over laying down and dying.

In that way, I think John was being honest when he later admitted that How Do You Sleep was about himself. Not in the exact lines specific to Paul but in the action, to write (or accept), record, and release them. How? as an echo to this anger shows the before and after, how John used Paul as a punching bag in response. That action was all about John himself.

[redbelles]

“So how’s Columbia?”

“Screw you,” says Rory thinly, passing him the half of the scone that’s left. It’s cherry, anyway, his favorite. (What else is she supposed to do with her hands? Where should she put them now so she doesn’t slip up and reach for him?)

“Yeah.” Jess brushes her fingers with his cold ones as he takes the paper bag, purposeful and spiteful, proving nothing she doesn’t already know. “Right back at you.”

in the baggage room at greyhound ↳ a season four au by @oceanblvdmp3

[buttercupart]

@scientistredacted @valmun

level 99 cataclysmic nostalgia event dropping in 3, 2, 1

[alivegirlmari]

thinking about the differences between the first hunt and the pit girl hunt, and i'm so excited to see how they change and refine their rituals. shauna was meant to kill nat in the cabin, but travis interrupting is what creates the chase aspect. they clearly keep that. why? so when they kill, it feels earned? bc it offers the promise of escaping, outsmarting? but where can you really run to? javi dies when nat picked the card, allowing for a 'you're safe if someone else dies instead' rule, but that doesn't seem to be the case with pit girl, who is bare foot and only wearing a long white shirt. is there some sort of ceremony beforehand, where she's cleaned, dressed, and sent out? nat only got a head start bc she ran; is pit girl given a specific amount of time before they go after her? there's only a small number of survivors left eating her, so it's probably not the first pit hunt, and those clothes (or lack of) don't exactly seem compatible with running, so do they have different types of hunts? how many? do they vary by season? do they continue to have human hunts when other food sources become available? is hers a 'meet death via the pit, the elements, or us' type? offering the choice of how you want to die, or is the pit to stop her from truly going anywhere far? etc.

[cynosuresoldier]

@arrowablaze liked for a lyrics starter // Victim of Nostalgia by Mxmtoon

There's an uncomfortable pressure in Kaja's chest as she holds her old journal in her hands. It had somehow survived all those years of training and through most of her stint in the Survey Corps. Though part of her wanted to open it, she found herself hesitating. Was it worth it to relive it?

"Will I always be the words I wrote when I was seventeen?" She glanced over to the other brunette, a quiet disappointment about her, "Does it even matter? Will the world still be around when I turn sixty-three?"

[melathan]

han jisung x camgirl! reader drabble

word count — 1.9k

warnings — NSFW, 18+. needy! jisung, soft dom! reader. mentioned pornography, masturbation + mutual masturbation, praise, toy usage, use of nicknames (babygirl, good boy), light teasing

editor note — first work posted! hope you guys enjoy^^

It’s hard being a talented and hardworking idol year-round, especially when there’s little time to blow off steam. Of course, perhaps his management allowed his group to go out a couple of nights of the year, and let the idols live freely. But for Han Jisung, meeting new people… wasn’t exactly his strong suit.

Well, obviously, he wanted to meet new people. He tried to find friends outside of Stray Kids, he tried to find acquaintances he can fuck around with–

He wanted somebody’s sexual attention.

Sure, rumors went around that his group sometimes mingled sexually. Sure, it may be true. But Jisung wanted to find somebody who would fulfill his erotic fantasies, his strange kinks, his insatiable libido. Especially when out of the 365 days, only a select few would be free to let him do so.

But, of course, his one problem: He can’t socialize with strangers. Talking to his fans was one thing– he just had to say hello, hear them gush about him, say thank you, and wave goodbye. Simple.

Meeting strangers at bars and clubs… what do you mean he had to flirt with somebody who wasn’t a friend?? Twenty-one questions? What’s that? More like twenty-one regrets for following his friends to the loud, crowded club.

Once again, he was curled up in his room as the other members separated and went out on their off night. Once again, he was berating himself for not being sociable. 

…Once again, he was humping that same damned pillow.

A breathy curse left his lips, his fingers curling into the sheets as he bucked his hips again. His trusty pillow never failed to satisfy him– but as he continued a pit grew in his stomach. He wanted more. He didn’t just want to be satisfied; he wanted to be pleasured, to be thrown over the edge, to be braindead…

Jisung let out a whine, collapsing on his pillow. A frustrated huff left his lips as he pulled out his phone, opening the PornHub link once again… no, he didn’t feel proud about this. He felt like a sleazy creep who got off watching girls and guys fuck for the camera.

(Sure, he didn’t feel proud, but he certainly didn’t feel guilty.)

Ah. The normal stepcest content. He grumbled, feeling his cock twitch against the pillow. He just found roleplaying erotic and exciting. Realistically, you can film anything, slap down the word ‘roleplay’ and you wouldn’t be questioned in the pornography realm. But to say the least, it worked, so he watched it.

He tapped on the video, setting his head back on the other pillow and situating himself, gripping the base of his cock. It was dark in his room, so the blinding light and loud music of the upcoming ad made him flinch away, squinting his eyes.

Scowling, he tapped furiously on the loading skip button. Another one of those porn Facetime sites. 

Do they even work? Could you just sign up, get on call, and masturbate with a hot girl?

He paused, staring at the seizure-inducing ad.

…

It wouldn’t hurt to try, honestly.

His anxiety spiked, but he forced it down. No, he wasn’t going to have small talk. No, he didn’t have to show his face… just his cock. And no, the other girl wouldn’t skip him if he stuttered immensely.

Right?

He sat up in his bed, crossing his legs as he tapped on the ad itself. The normal button to download an app was shown– if he was normal, he would’ve clicked off. 

But he didn’t feel like jerking off onto his pillow to some video posted five years ago. His friends were gone and the dorm was empty– he might as well take the chance.

✶ ✶ ✶

“–Babygirl, right? You should totally show me your–”

Skipped.

You sighed, throwing your head back. Another horny teenager. Couldn’t you get somebody somewhat normal?

It was your off day of streaming, simply anonymous on this mutual masturbation app. You counted three teenagers, four people who recognized you, and a troll (although you could admit the guy made you laugh).

The blank screen was loading, finding somebody else for you. Your wand laid between your legs, and you cursed. 

Maybe I should give it up–

The screen loaded and you perked up… only to see a ceiling fan. You frowned.

“Hello?”

A small noise came from the other side of the call and the camera shifted. “Uh… hi.”

Great, another teenager?

“If you’re under twenty I am clicking off–”

“Wait!” The camera jolted and a face came into view, his eyes wide with panic.

You sucked in a breath. He was gorgeous.

Soon realizing what he did he yelped and dropped the phone, showing his fan again. “Ah, fuck-!” “What?” You demanded. “No no, show me your face pretty boy.”

He choked. “Pretty boy-?”

“Yes? Or are you camera shy?” You sat back, almost grinning in amusement. While he was too scared to even show his forehead, you had your camera positioned so he could see everything. Crossing your legs, you leaned back even more, relaxed.

The guy whined. Whined. “I, uh… wouldn’t you rather see my d-dick?” “Oh, so you’re direct,” You purred, resting your chin on the back of your hand. “Alright. Do what makes you comfortable.”

There’s a pause on his end, and he lifts his phone to reposition it. The ending scene… oh.

His cock was as pretty as his face. Long, curled, resting on his doughy tummy. The pink mushroom tip glistened in his blue LED room lights, a show of his excitement. His small hand gripped the chubby base, his hand twitching.

“Baby,” You exhaled. “Are you a pornstar?”

The guy choked, his grip tightening. “I– huh? N-no, I’m not!”

You scoffed. “You should be. You’re immaculate.”

“Oh…” Another whine. “Really?”

“Yes! Oh, baby, can you stroke it?” You grab your wand, turning on the lowest setting. The hum of the toy was picked up by the guy, as heard by his bated breath. 

“Ok…”

You made sure not to blink as he slowly moved his hand up and down, the veins bulging at the movements. He let out another shuddered breath, his thighs tensing.

“I’ve never… touched myself in front of somebody–” He murmured, his last word hitching. “L-let alone a stranger…”

“So you’re new… alright.” You nodded, grazing your wand on your cunt. You let out a content sigh, brushing it on the lips.

He gulped– it was obvious that his attention was on you, not on his cock. To tease him, you pressed it right on your clit, letting out a soft moan. You could’ve sworn you saw a drop of precum roll down his shaft.

“I’m your first, then,” You grin, the idea making you strangely pleased. “That’s adorable.”

He squeaked. “Really?”

You nodded, increasing the level on the wand. As you tensed up and moaned, he tensed and stuttered his hand on his cock.

“Baby,” You said after a second. “I feel like you're holding back. Relax~”

“Relax,” He huffed, sitting up. “Ok– ok. Um…”

You saw the tension leave his thighs and arms, his body sinking further into the mattress. Grinning, you spread your cunt out further, the slick making it glisten in the low light. 

He let out a low groan. “Are you… going to cum?”

“Not yet, baby. But soon.” I nod, spreading my legs further as I increase the intensity. Just watching him– a nervous, adorable stranger– touch himself, made me strangely sensitive.

New turn-on, I guess.

You decide to turn it up yet another level, arching your back and letting out a sultry whine. “Oh~”

“Fuck…” You heard him curse. “Do– do it again. Do that again.”

You wanted to tease him– but with how your lower stomach was tightening, you would only frustrate yourself. Instead, you laid back, tapping your toy on your clit and making yourself twitch and moan.

You heard the sheets rustle on his end as well, and his camera jerked. His phone fell but showed you something that almost made you cum on the spot.

You were able to see his face again, his eyes and nose scrunched up, framed by curly locks of silky brown hair. He was hunched over but it didn’t hide his small waist; it accentuated the curve from his chest to his hip. His honey-toned thighs twitched and shook as he gripped his cock, slick noises echoing in both of your rooms as he jerked off.

“You’re into that?” You moan out; you couldn’t help yourself. “Into my noises? My moans? What if I beg for you, huh?”

He let out a breathless wail, throwing his head back. “Oh god, please–”

He’s the beggar, shit.

“Praise?” You murmured, your soft tone barely heard over his wet cock and your buzzing toy. “Are you a good boy?”

His eyes widened comically, immediately flitting over to you. His movements momentarily stuttered, the pretty tip almost a deep purple.

Gotcha.

“Good boy…” You moaned out, your toy now on the highest setting as you rubbed it frantically on your clit. “You’re such a good boy, such a good boy…”

“Yes-!” He whimpered, his hand almost sliding off his cock with the sheer amount of precum. “Oh fuck, I am~!”

You gripped the toy with both hands, your legs closing over it. “You’re gonna cum? Can you cum for me baby? Cum for me, babygirl–”

The nickname set him off immediately. He let out a loud wail, his hands jerking back as he came. Thick ropes of seed spurted out of the swollen tip, collecting on his tightened stomach. He gripped the sheets under him, his cock twitching as he screwed his eyes shut. “Oh…!”

You came yourself a few seconds after, slick gathering around your hole and dripping into your sheets. You let out a small, humored moan, smiling. “Fuck, baby…”

Coming down from his high, he realized how his phone was situated, allowing you to see his face. But he couldn’t bring himself to fix it, not when he was watching you scoop your cum and slick and lick it off your fingers… his softening cock twitched.

God, he was getting hard again. 

You giggled, giving him a lazy grin as you noticed his slack expression. “You like that? Watching me eat my own cum?”

He let out a strangled gasp. “Fuck, I…”

“I like you,” You declared, reaching for the towel and shoving it under you. “You’re willing to stick around?”

Are you kidding? He almost wanted to yell. This was probably the best orgasm he’s had in his life. Letting you skip was almost like letting somebody tease him with dessert and then handing it to somebody completely different. He wasn’t going to let that happen.

“I– yes,” He choked out, picking up his phone. “What’s your username?”

Slightly taken aback by his sudden directness, you tilted your head. “Oh? Baby, you’re greedy.”

He clenched his jaw. “I want to see you again.”

Maybe he can call you tomorrow. Maybe the following weeks. Maybe you can roleplay with him, satiate his kinks, satisfy his drive. Maybe he can meet you in person and actually fuck you—

Giggling, you buried yourself further into your pillows. “Hm… tempting. Well, baby, you are cute. It would be stupid for me to give you up.”

You spread your legs again, picking up your toy. “But I’ll give it to you later, m'kay? I’m not quite ready to let you sign off just yet…”

08.19.2024

[maddie-dog-story-blog]

The Birthday - An Interlude - Halloween

"Mommy says when you get scared, you forget your potty training," a soft feminine voice whispered in my ear.

"Mommy says Halloween makes you a scaredy cat, ready to jump at the tiniest spooky or scary thing," the voice continued.

I moaned in my half-asleep state, wondering what was going on, and beginning to feel a deep anxiety form in the pit of my stomach.

"Mommy says that she is the only one who can console you when you get scared."

At the third strange command, I opened my eyes and the reality of what was happening hit me. I was greeted by my wife's grinning face.

"Mommy, please, no!" I said exasperated as Melody gave me a soft, motherly kiss to my forehead.

"Good morning, baby. Happy Halloween!" is all she said as she ignored my futile protest.

It had been nearly six months since the fateful weekend where my wife had discovered my AB/DL kink and treated me to a birthday weekend of both my dreams and nightmares.

Since that weekend, very little had actually changed in my life. Melody had lifted most of the hypnotic triggers she had implanted in me (although I was still forced to refer to her as Mommy, exclusively). She almost never used her 'Mommy says' trigger against me, only reminding me of it if I got "too big for my britches" as she liked to put it.

The only major change is that my little hobby as an AB/DL smut author had become a little more complicated. Melody still allowed me to write my 'little stories' as she liked to put it, but I was no longer the final arbiter of what got posted.

Mommy made me show her each and every story I wrote, and she decided whether it was good enough and 'appropriate' enough to get posted. She also made me make a post apologizing for the treatment of the female characters in my story and explain her newly assumed role of Mommy-editor-in-chief.

My reputation as a big and a dom took a drastic hit. But, over the course of a few months, things settled back down and we settled into comfortable dynamic and rhythm.

That was, until I woke up to my wife's new commands this morning.

"Mommy, please, what did I do? I've been a good boy! You can't do this to me!"

I hated how whiney and small I sounded pleading with my wife like this, but I had long since had my pride beaten out of me.

"Halloween is my favorite holiday! If I can't control myself when I'm scared, if I get scared easily, if I need you to calm me down, I'll… I'll… I'll…"

I couldn't finish my sentence as I realized that, in the early morning hour, the room was still dark. I noticed shadows dancing around the corners of the room and suddenly, a pang of terror, raced through me.

I felt my sheets grow warm and wet beneath me as I let out a panicked cry.

"Mommy!"

I dove for my wife's arms, horrified and desperate for her, the only person I could see as my protector, to help me.

She laughed softly as she pulled me into her arms, and I felt my rational mind retake control.

"Aw, is my little baby afraid of the dark? And," I feel her pat my wet butt, "did you have a little accident! Let Mommy help make it all better."

I whined as she got out of bed and turned on the light, subconsciously rebelling against the lose of the comfort being held by her provided.

As the light turned on, a feeling of relief washed over me as the phantoms in the corners of the room dematerialized. At the same time, I blushed as the light revealed the shameful puddle I had just made in the bed.

"Mommy, please, Halloween is my favorite, you can't make me, force me, let me… I can't be this," I pleaded as Melody walked over to inspect the damage to our bed.

She reached over and brushed her fingers lightly on my cheek as she responded to my pleas.

"Oh, my precious little pants-piddler, you and I both know that Mommy can and will make you be whatever I want," She bent over, making eye contact with me as she showed off her ample cleavage, "And today, I want you to be Mommy's perfect little scaredy-cat toddler."

I groaned, knowing there was absolutely nothing I could do to resist Melody's power over me.

"Ok, Mommy," I responded, defeated.

"Perfect, now, let's get you diapered up before some little ghoul or goblin scares you again, and you make another mess."

I just sighed and laid on my back as I waited for Melody to diaper me so the worst Halloween of my life could begin in earnest.

[merrybloomwrites]

Spencer - Smosh UTI Live

Summary: When you apply for a cast position at Smosh, you're only goal is to get a job. But that job introduces you to Spencer, the cute editor on staff. You keep your crush a secret for months, but taking part in a livestream where alcohol is a key factor may lead to a turning point in your relationship.

Word Count: 3K

CW: alcohol consumption

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

Getting hired to be a cast member on Smosh is a dream come true. 

Literally. 

You’d watched Smosh videos when you were growing up, and loved when it expanded to include new people. From that moment, you had one goal in life, and you did everything you could to achieve it. 

The audition progress was equal parts exciting and terrifying, weeks spent on your application followed by multiple callbacks, each time meeting a new person who you have been a fan of for years. 

Getting the call that you were hired was the best moment of your life. Not only were you excited that you achieved your dream, but now you have proof that your hard work paid off. Plus, the people that you always looked up to had chosen you. They liked your comedy, your personality, and thought you’d fit in with them. 

Your first day is nerve wracking, as first days always are, but everyone is so welcoming that by the time you’re heading home, you feel only excitement about what’s to come. 

Over the first week or so, you manage to meet almost everyone who works for the company. You recognize plenty of them. Of course you know all the cast members, as you’ve been watching videos of them for years. You also recognize some of the crew members who have guest starred in some videos as well.

It isn’t until the start of your third week that you meet Spencer the editor. He looks familiar, you know he’s been on the channel before, but without Kimmy doing an official introduction you wouldn’t have been able to put a name to his face. 

Ever since that first conversation there was something that just drew you to Spencer. Maybe his fluffy hair, maybe his laugh, maybe even his passion for Mountain Dew kickstart. Whatever it was, it was the start of a great friendship. 

It wasn’t long before you and Spencer ended up at the same lunch table every day. It also wasn’t long before your feelings for him switched from platonic, to maybe something a little bit more. 

So yea. You developed a crush. On a coworker. Which is generally a pretty bad idea. There’s always the chance that if you started dating, you could break up and that would cause tension amongst everyone at Smosh. And with Spencer being there years before you, it probably wouldn’t end well for you. Plus, he probably doesn’t even like you back, so if you were to ask him out he’d reject you, and then everyday would be totally awkward.

That’s why you keep your feelings a complete secret. No one knows. You only tell your best friend, Katie, that you like someone at work, but don’t even tell her his name.

Time goes on, you make great friends and fun videos, and life is going well. You and Spencer talk every day, but nothing more ever happens.

Then you get put on a Smosh Pit video. It’s one of your favorite series, “Beopardy”. You adore trivia, having watched Jeopardy with your parents every night after dinner growing up. This is your second time on this series, and you had lost by only a few points the last time. You’re determined to win this episode, but they hadn’t revealed the topic yet, as they didn’t want any of you studying in advance. 

It’s not until you’re on set sitting between Ian, Olivia, and Shayne, that you learn Spencer is the host of the episode which is titled, “Are We Smarter Than Our Editor?” You’re feeling pretty confident in your editing knowledge, having learned a lot from Spencer over the last couple of months. Your only problem is the potential for getting distracted simply watching Spencer be on camera. 

It still is rare that he’s in this position, and from the start his confidence is, unfortunately, very attractive to you. Taking a deep breath, you center yourself to remain professional. 

It’s a fun shoot, one of your favorites so far. You win by 200 points, and celebrate your first victory. When the cameras stop you joke with your video costars for a little bit before getting up to make your way to the lunchroom. 

Before you can leave the studio Spencer comes over and says, “You did a great job today.”

Blushing at his compliment you reply, “Thank you. Guess sitting with you at lunch really paid off.” 

“Wow, I thought my company was the prize there but it looks like you’re using me for my editor knowledge.”

“Oh absolutely. I knew that would come in handy someday,” you say with a laugh. 

“Heading to lunch?” He asks. 

“I am indeed,” you answer. 

The two of you walk over together and grab some food before heading to your normal table. 

“Be right back,” Spencer says after putting down his lunch. A moment later he walks over again, carrying a drink for himself as well as a can of your favorite flavor of La Croix, which he places in front of you. It makes your heart race just a bit faster, seeing that he not only knows which drink you like the best, but made sure to bring you one. Not the whole table, just you.

Things like this have been happening for a few weeks, little interactions and favors that make you wonder if maybe Spencer has feelings for you the same way you do for him. After thanking him for the drink, you sit quietly, lost in your thoughts while conversation flows around you. The table you’re at is full, the rest of your friends discussing a new game they’ve been playing. 

But then you look up and see that Kimmy is being just as quiet as you. She’s looking at you, like she’s trying to solve a puzzle. It isn’t until she looks pointedly at you, then Spencer, that you realize she may have you figured out. 

Turning back to your food you ignore her eyes practically burning a hole in your head. After finishing lunch you head to the bathroom, choosing one that’s hidden in a back hallway. You thought that would mean no one would find you, but Kimmy is waiting for you when you’re done.

“Is something going on between you and Spencer?” she asks with no preamble, a large smile on her face.

“Nothing is happening,” you reply.

“But do you want it to?”

You don’t answer right away, not wanting anyone at work to know the truth. But this is Kimmy. One of your closest friends here. If there’s anyone at Smosh you can confide in, it’s her. 

“I may have the tiniest little crush on him. But that’s all! I’m not planning to act on that or anything. I don’t want it to get awkward at work if anything goes wrong.”

“And why do you think it’d go wrong?”

“Kimmy, I bet he doesn’t even feel the same way, so it’s silly to even worry about it,” you say. 

“Oh, he absolutely feels the same way. Boy has heart eyes every time he looks at you,” Kimmy replies. 

“He does not!”

“Okay, sure. Honestly I thought you were going to confess the two of you are dating in secret, not that you both have silly unrequited crushes on each other. I guess I could be wrong, but I’m certain that boy is head over heels for you.” 

Just as she says this, your phone buzzes with a ln incoming text message. It’s from Spencer and reads, “You disappeared after lunch, you okay?”

You can’t help the smile that forms on your face as you read the message, endeared by him checking up on you. When you glance up, Kimmy is giving you a knowing smirk. You jokingly say, “shut up,” before walking back to the tables. 

Spencer is standing there, looking around worriedly. He catches sight of you and relief spreads across his face. 

When you get close he says, “Everything alright?” His hand rests gently on your elbow, and you feel like your skin is burning from just that small point of contact. 

“Yea, I’m good. Just stopped to talk to Kimmy,” you reply, hoping no one notices your reaction to him touching your arm. Well, no one except Kimmy, who is giving you yet another knowing look from across the room. 

Luckily it’s time to get back to work, and you can focus on something other than your crush.

The next few weeks fly by. You’re all getting ready for the first live show that Smosh will be doing in years. It’s a big undertaking, on top of all the normal videos you need to shoot, and everyone is incredibly busy. 

And yet, you still get to see Spencer every day. At the very least you get lunch together, but he also often happens to be getting coffee in the kitchen at the same time as you, and you see each other during the rehearsals. Your heart skips a beat every time you get him to laugh, and the two of you share more eye contact than is strictly necessary.

All of this has you thinking that maybe Kimmy is right. Maybe Spencer really does like you as well. But still, it’s a tricky situation to date a coworker. And this job, as well as Spencer’s friendship, means too much to you to risk it. So your crush continues to remain a secret.

Finally, it’s time for the live show. Smosh Live: Under the Influence. Oh yea. That’s the other part of the live show. You’ll all be drinking alcohol during it. 

Well, not everyone. A few cast members will be staying sober. One of them being Spencer. And you’re grateful for that. And for the fact that he’s your designated driver for the night.

The live show is an absolute blast. You make sure not to go too crazy with the drinking. Not only are you technically at work, but everything you do is being live streamed to thousands of people. The last thing you want is to make a fool of yourself, so you take it easy with the alcohol.

Or well, you take it easy until the celebratory afterparty. Where you may go a tad overboard. Not too bad, not blacking out or anything, but definitely feeling a bit inebriated. Your inhibitions are definitely lowered. 

Which would be fine. Except Spencer is your ride home. Sober you should have realized this is a recipe for disaster. But now drunk you is in control. Alone. With Spencer. 

It’s after midnight when everyone finally starts to head home.

“You ready?” Spencer asks, handing you a glass of water which you happily take sips from. 

“Ready,” you reply once you’ve finished the glass. He takes it from you and places it on a nearby table before leading you out to the car, his arm wrapped around you protectively to keep you upright as you stumble slightly. You giggle as his hand wraps more firmly around your waist and you lean into him. 

He opens the passenger door for you, and you pout as you’re forced to separate from him. When he gets in the driver's seat and looks over he sees the big doe eyes you’re giving him. 

“What is it?” He asks. 

“Nothing,” you quickly answer, making no move to look away. Spencer knows something is going through your mind but decides not to push. He begins to drive, hand resting on the center console, and in your inebriated state that seems like a perfect invitation for you to slide your hand into his. You’re so focused on watching his fingers intertwine with yours that you miss the pleased smile on Spencer’s face. 

“Thank you,” you suddenly say. 

“What for?” Spencer asks. 

“For making sure I get home safe,” you reply. 

“I’ll always make sure you’re safe,” he answers. 

“You’re a really good person. I’m so happy we met. I’d be really sad if you weren’t my friend. Which is why I don’t want to mess it up.”

“What do you mean?” He asks. 

“You know, wanting too much and ruining what we have. I mean, I like you but it’s complicated.” You don’t even realize you’ve just confessed your feelings to Spencer, but he immediately notices, and begins to feel hopeful. He hopes that this isn’t just drunk ramblings, that you actually mean what you’re saying. 

“It doesn’t have to be complicated,” he says. 

“But it is! What if you don’t like me back?”

Spencer can’t help but laugh at how honest you’re being, like you don’t even realize you’re admitting this all to him. 

“Okay well first of all, don’t worry about that. Because I do like you back,” Spencer admits just as he parks the car in front of your building. 

“You do?” You ask, eyes finally meeting his. 

“I do. I have for a while now.” Spencer’s watches as your entire face lights up, eyes sparkling as you  smile the brightest smile he’s ever seen. 

“C’mon,” he continues. “Let’s get you inside.” 

You’ve barely opened your car door before Spencer is there, once again wrapping an arm around your waist. You’ve sobered up a bit, no longer stumbling at all, but you’d never deny yourself a chance to be close to him. He keeps his hand lightly on the small of your back while you fumble with your keys. 

He comes inside, needing to make sure you’re settled for the night. He’s been to your place a couple times before during group hang outs so he knows where to find what he needs. While you duck into your bathroom to change into pajamas and get ready for bed he fills a glass with water, placing that, a granola bar, and some pain relievers on your bedside table. He figures you’ll need all of that at some point between now and tomorrow morning. 

You're about to walk into your room, suddenly feeling exhausted and just wanting to climb into bed. But you nearly bump into Spencer as he walks out of the bedroom. 

“I left some things on your table,” he explains. 

“Thank you,” you shyly reply. 

“I should get going,” he says, but you don’t move to let him pass. Instead you ask, “Can you stay? Just a couple minutes until I fall asleep?” It’s bold of you to ask, but you always feel extra lonely after drinking, and you’d already been pretty bold in the car so you figure it couldn’t hurt. 

“Of course,” he replies and steps to the side so you can enter the bedroom. You get under the covers, laying on your side, and look at Spencer with expectant eyes. Understanding your wordless request, he sits on the edge of the bed. His hand rests on your hip before he starts to gently rub your back. 

You’re asleep in no time, comforted by Spencer’s presence. 

When you wake up the next morning you’re feeling better than you have any right to after a night of drinking. You eat the granola bar and take the pain medicine in order to relieve the mild headache before it can get any worse. As you finish the glass of water you reflect on the night before. 

Your eyes go wide as you realize what happened at the end of the night. You’d drunkenly confessed your feelings to Spencer. You’d asked him to stay with you until you fell asleep. You’re mortified! You actually told him you liked him. Were you insane?

But before you spiral too much, you remember his response to everything. How he admitted his feelings as well. How he stayed with you, gently lulling you to sleep. 

Could this be the answer to months of pining? A drunken confession?

You pull yourself out of bed and decide a shower is definitely needed. When you get out you see a few texts in a Smosh group chat, you’re friends planning to meet up at a diner. You text that you’re in, and a moment later your phone dings again, this time Spencer asking if you want a ride. You accept his offer, hoping the ride won’t be too awkward after everything that happened. 

You get ready and Spencer pulls up a little while later. 

“She lives!” Spencer shouts as you climb in the passenger seat. 

“Ha ha,” you answer dryly. “I’ll have you know I felt perfectly fine this morning.”

“Well then I am impressed,” he replies and you both laugh. 

Throughout the drive there, during the meal, and even the drive back home, neither you nor Spencer acknowledges the elephant in the room. But the suspense is killing you, so you once again invite Spencer inside when you get home. 

“I wanted to talk about what happened last night,” you say once you’re both seated at your kitchen table. “I didn’t mean to blurt everything out, but I guess I’m happy you know the truth.”

“So you meant it? You weren’t just saying that because you were drunk?” Spencer confirms. 

“I mean, I probably wouldn’t have said it without some liquid courage, but I did mean it. I’ve liked you since I met you. But I never thought you’d like me back,” you explain. 

“Of course I like you! How could I not? God, you’re so pretty, and funny, and kind. You’re like, the coolest person. So yea, I’ve liked you the whole time too.”

You both sit quietly for a minute, absorbing this information. 

“What happens now?” You finally ask. 

“Well now I can ask you on a date without worrying about you rejecting me,” he answers. 

You blush and duck your head, bashful at this statement. But before you can hide too long, he gently lifts your chin so you’re looking at him again.

“Y/N, will you go out to dinner with me?” he asks.

“Spencer, I would love to,” you reply. 

The two of you can’t help but start giggling like two high schoolers that just decided to go to homecoming together. You realize that this could be your future. Lots of smiles, and laughs, and time spent enjoying one another’s company. 

You know it’s too soon to think about forever, but when Spencer suggests a round of Mario Kart to ease the tension, it’s clear that there’s something good between the two of you. And you can’t wait to see how it all unfolds.

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

AN: Thanks for reading! Hope you enjoyed it! I have 5 more Spencer fics planned at the moment, but feel free to send in requests!

[satorusugurugurl]

I Think He Knows: (Chapter Nine)

Summary: When your novel takes off and becomes a best seller, doors of opportunities open for you. You can work on the series you have dreamed about all your life. And you’re also given the chance to stay in a tiny cottage in Europe for two years to help with inspiration! Your best friend, Geto Suguru, shatters at the news. How could he tell you how he feels when you leave him? His opportunity appears right before him when you confess that your editor thinks a change of scenery will help with your not-so-steamy romance scenes. They’re lacking a particular spice because you’re a virgin. So, Suguru does what any best friend would do. He offers to teach you how things work. Will you cross that line as friends? Or will you both say goodbye?

Pairing: Geto Suguru x AFAB!Reader

Word Count: 5,860

Warning: confessions, loss of virginity, smut, lovemaking, fingering, unprotected sex

A/N: so were actually going to have two more parts! Part ten and an Epilougue! 🥹 sorry for the late post this was a long chapter and someone decided to fall asleep in the pool after chugging down margaritas and yeah—it was all me 😬

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six Part Seven Part Eight Part Ten Part Eleven

Love?

That simple four-letter word weighed like a ton in your heart and the pit of your stomach. Did Suguru tell you he loved you? Your breath quickened as he stroked your hair gently; his dark eyes bore into yours.

“You—you love me?”

“Yes, god, I love you.”

Every time he said that your stomach fluttered with butterflies of excitement. But his eyes shut tight as he pulled his forehead away from yours, allowing him to look at your entire face. His was still shirtless, pants pulled down to his thighs, and you were naked, but something about being so exposed made this moment that much more intense.

“How long have you loved me?”

Suguru sat up straight, allowing him to give you his full undivided attention. “I knew I liked you the first day we met. But that grew into a crush that turned into a bigger crush in high school; before I knew it, I was utterly in love with you.” He shut his eyes as he smiled warmly. “Which was as easy as breathing.” You rested your hands on his shoulders, flushing at the sweet words.

“But why did you wait so long to tell me?”

“I didn’t want to ruin our friendship.”

You pursed your lips together. “Oh, yeah, that makes sense.” You would be lying to yourself if you hadn’t been scared of your deepening feelings and what that would do to your friendship. “I mean, when you said you couldn’t do, uhm—“ you motioned to the position you were still in, “this, it almost ruined me.” Because you were afraid, your boldness had ruined that nearly two-decade-long friendship.

“But I know now, I have to be honest. I can’t keep living with this secret on my chest.” He gently cupped your cheek in his warm hand, his finger caressing the skin. “You deserve to know the truth.” When you didn’t oppose his words, Suguru took a deep breath. “The day Utahime found your cottage hit me like a train. When you said you could be gone for two years, my stomach fell out of my ass. Because the thought of being away from you for that long was unimaginable.” He laughed, shaking his head. “Who else would ensure I was taking care of myself, bringing me food, dragging me away from my canvas? No one cares for me like you.”

“I did promise your mom I’d look out for you.” You try to joke, but his confession has your voice breaking as you are overwhelmed by his sweet words.

“Yeah, and that’s why my folks love you too.” He brushed against your cheek with the pad of his thumb. “But that night, we went to dinner to celebrate you finding the cottage; I didn’t know what to do. You were so excited about going, and I wanted to support you. But thinking about you leaving and falling in love with some European guy made my stomach hurt.”

You cocked an eyebrow and giggled. “Some European guy?”

“Yeah, like a French model or something.” You laugh again, and it’s like music to his ears. “But when Nanami told me you were struggling with the intimate scenes in your book and that going on this retreat might help. I decided that if I could help you with those scenes, maybe I’d finally work up the courage to tell you how I felt, but it became something else. Something deeper, something more profound and intimate. I was something living off a stupid idea when I should’ve just been honest with you. We could just be together. And I almost managed to fuck that up.”

“Suguru—”

“I was an idiot. I should’ve been blunt and honest about how I felt instead of hiding behind the idea that I was helping you. If I’m being honest, doing all this intimate stuff with you made me fall even more in love with you. I didn’t want to ruin our friendship, but I’m beating around the bush. I fucking love you.”

“Suguru—I—”

“You don't have to say it back; I just needed you to know because I can’t just sleep with you. Not when you deserve so much more.”

His confession was raw and honest, making your heart sing. Without thinking, you pulled his hands away from your face; Suguru's eyes widened as if he thought maybe you were angry. But when your lips slammed against his in a heated kiss that had that simmering desire in your lower stomach roaring to life again. His arms wrapped around you, pressing you firmly against his bare chest, turning his head to deepen the kiss. His erection was hardening again, rutting against your lower stomach; before things progressed any further, you broke the kiss, panting heavily.

He had been so honest with you; he deserved to know how you felt. “Suguru—I-I could’ve been honest too— because I felt the same way early into our agreement. I kept telling myself that you were helping me out, being a good friend, when I knew for a fact that there was more to it. When I thought you were leaving for four months, my world seemed to stop.” His hands gently ran up and down your back as you spoke. “I realized I needed to tell you how I felt, but uhm—“ with a nervous chuckle, you flushed, “I got some advice to show you how I felt; that's why I—I jumped you like this.” Suguru scoffed, shaking his head, and exhaled heavily through his nose.

“And I was told to talk to you.” A comfortable silence draws out between you. “God, we're a couple of idiots, aren’t we?”

“Yeah, I guess we are.” You let out a sing-song giggle as Suguru chuckles, trailing kisses slowly up your neck. “A couple of idiots in love.”

The sensations of Suguru’s lips slowly moving up your neck stopped at the spot right beneath your earlobe. You could feel how hot his breath was as he slowly inhaled and exhaled against your skin. The burning desire slowly began to spread from your body to all the other parts of you. Your skin was sensitive to his hands running over you, your heart was slamming against your ribs, and you felt yourself getting wetter as Suguru pulled away from your neck to stare into your eyes.

His cock was hard and throbbing inside of his boxers. He didn't remember the last time he was this turned on or if there had ever been a time in his life when he had been so hard. This was different; tension and excitement settled in his stomach. He wanted this, wanted you so fucking bad. Not because he wanted you, wanted to pop your cherry.

He wanted to love you in every way he was able to.

“I—I want you.” The breathless needy whisper nearly had him cumming in his pants. “Sugu, please, I want you to be my first for everything.”

Your first, did you want him to be your first? God, this was happening. It wasn’t a dream this time.

“You’re positive? You want to do this?”

“I’ve never been more sure about it in my life.”

One of Suguru’s hands slowly slid down your back, leaving a trace of goosebumps in its wake. The warm, calloused fingers brushed over your hip before they slid lower until they found your clit. He pressed against the sensitive bundle of nerves and slowly circled it just the way you liked it. His fingers rubbing against you sent your body jerking forward with a high-pitched moan.

Your legs were shaking, and your voice seemed to crack as Suguru dipped his finger lower, growling at the wet slick that he brushed against. You were soaking wet. The thought of being buried inside of you when you were this wet had his self-control wavering. Accidentally hurting you was the last thing Suguru ever wanted to do; this was your first time; he wanted it to be perfect, to be as painless as it could be. So instead of shoving his cock deep inside of you, he pushed his middle and ring finger into you.

The way your voice hitches, eyes going wide as he slowly begins pumping his fingers in and out of your tight, wet heat, has your eyes shut tight. Your voice breaks the soft whimpers invading Suguru’s ears as he curls his fingers up, rubbing your g-spot with experienced strokes. A tremor starts through your legs, making its way up to your hips and stomach. You melt like butter with each come-hither stroke and kiss against your neck.

Suguru grunts softly as you begin rolling your hips against his hand, spreading your wet arousal over the palm of his hand as he moves faster and harder, the sound of your moans and whimpers feeding into his speed, making him more eager, please you get you off, he wanted this to be the best first time anyone could ask for. His teeth sunk into your neck, drawing out a sharp gasp from you as his fingers rubbed that spongy spot inside of you. Wet squelches filled the bedroom, and the sounds of him finger fucking you only made you wetter.

“S-Suguru—”

He hummed, lapping his tongue over the bite mark he had left in his wake. “You’re so wet~ does this feel good, princess~?”

“Ye-Yeah fuck, it feels really good—i-I think I'm gonna—”

“Ooh gonna cum for me already~?”

“Mhmm.”

“Was my princess that horny that she’s already going to cum for me? I've barely touched you.” His lips pressed against yours softly as he rubbed your g-spot harder. “You can cum~ I plan on making you cum again~.”

His bold declaration, the expert strokes, and his lips on your neck sucking on it were all you needed to send you over the edge of an orgasm you had never experienced before. It was much more intense before a gush of liquid coated Suguru’s hand. Seeing you squirt, feeling your juices coat, His hand had Suguru’s pupils the size of pinpricks, his fingers gently pulling out of you before glancing down at his wet fingers before slowly trailing up to your pleasure-drunk face.

“Didn't take you for a squirter.” He teased, flipping you both so you were pressed back against the bed.

“G-Gotta k-keep you—haaah—” your eyes rolled back as you spread your legs as wide as you could for Suguru. “on your t-toes.”

Your best friend hummed at your breathless words as he reached down, pushing his jeans and boxers down his thighs. His heartbeat echoed inside of his ears as you kept your eyes wide open for him, exposing your beauty to him. After years of imagining being with you, holding you close, making love to you, all those dreams were about to come true for him.

You watched as Suguru reached into his pants, grabbing his wallet. Your eyes focused on the foil package. He pulled it out, opening it with his teeth. That in itself could have made you cum for a second time without him even touching you. His hands moved with experience sliding the condom over his cock, before staring down at you for a second before blinking.

He leaned back, gently stroking your cheek with his thumb. "You're not allergic to latex, are you?"

“No, I’m not.”

“Princess.” Suguru slowly learned to get closer to you. “Are you sure you’re okay with this? You want to do this?” He pressed his forehead on yours, darting between your eyes to your lips. “You know I’d wait for you as long as needed.”

There he went again, being as caring and considerate as possible. “You asking that makes me not doubt a single thing.” Suguru flushed as you placed your hand on his, gently stroking his knuckles. “I want you to be my first; I wholeheartedly do. Because I love you.” Suguru smiled back, nodding. He pulled his hand away from your face, intertwining your fingers.

“I love you too, Princess.” He slots himself between your legs, taking a deep breath. “Let me know if it hurts, okay? I don't want to hurt you."

"I will." She whispered, kissing him softly. "Suguru, I love you so much."

The man you had been friends with for years, whom you’d fallen hopelessly in love with, smiled softly, leaning in and kissing you deeply. "I love you so much.” He held his cock by the base, the thick shaft heavy in his hands. “Ready Princess?" You nodded, wrapping your arms around him, allowing him to lose himself in your intoxicating scent.

"Ready."

“Okay, honey, tell me if it hurts.” Suguru pushed into your tight entrance gently, his width stretching you out more than you imagined it could. "F-Fuck—”

Thanks to Suguru prepping you and ensuring you were as wet as possible, it didn’t hurt like you had feared it would. Instead, you moaned and whimpered, yet whimpered at the same time. "F-Fuck, O-Oh god." You said, gazing into his eyes as he watched you closely, searching for any signs of discomfort or pain that washed over your features.

When your eyebrows knitted together, Suguru slowly paused. "D-Do you need me to stop for a second, Princess?"

"Y-Yeah." You confessed as you gently gripped onto his arms. "Y-You're just really big."

“Oh, yeah—” An almost sudden swarm of confidence swelled in his chest as Suguru nodded, stilling above you as he panted. "N-Need me to pull out?"

"N-No." You took a calming breath. "I just needed a second to adjust—you can keep going, Sugu. It's not so much that it hurts—I feel full."

Suguru nodded again, pressing gently kisses against your cheeks as he slowly began pushing further inside you again. "Mm, I see; as long as you're not in pain, that’s all that matters to me~” A whine resonates in your chest, causing your walls to squeeze Suguru gently. Making your tight, wet heat even tighter. “Fuck you're so tight, Princess—”

“A-And your cock, is thick,” You gasped, your eyes rolling back as you released your arms around his neck, one hand grabbing his own while the other grabbed at the bedding. "But it feels so good, I-I want m-more please.”

Suguru took a second to admire you as a whole truly. How you gently squeezed his fingers, how your other arm wrapped around your head, fingers gripping the pillow behind your head. The way your face was contorting with the pleasure of slowly getting fucked as a growl rose in the back of his throat while he looked down at you. Never in his life had Suguru ever seen someone as beautiful as you.

God, he loved you. He loved you so much that it hurt. He never wanted to do something like this with anyone else. Not when you looked like a literal goddess underneath him. You were taking him so well; it had his cock twitching as he thought of how pretty you’d be in all sorts of different positions.

"Fucking Christ, you look so pretty and perfect—" He started to slide into you again, his mouth open as he tried to breathe regularly. “Like you were fucking made for me, baby, god. I love you, fuck.”

"Y-You're so handsome." You cried softly as he slid further into your tight walls. His eyes narrowed in pure concentration as you shuddered and squirmed. The way his dark, pierced brow twitched as dark strands of his hair fell from his bun to hang in his face would make anyone’s heart palpitate. Geto Suguru wasn’t with just anyone; he was with the girl he loved: you. "I love you~ I—I need all of you Sugu~"

Hearing you say how handsome he was and how you needed all of him, your best friend bit his bottom lip as he shuddered. His head rested on your shoulder as he breathed heavily against your flushed skin. "F-Fuck, if you keep talking like that, I might not even get the chance to do that, Princess." He pressed into you until your hips met, making him moan softly as he was fully buried inside of you. You were his whole world, the only woman he had ever truly loved.

"R-Right, sorry you just—nngh!” He slowly rolled his hips into you, causing you to dig your nails into his back. “O-Oh, god." You said, looking down at your conjoined bodies. "Fuck that feels good." Your walls twitched eagerly around him. "Fuck~"

“Oh, Princess,” Suguru chuckled before he panted against your skin. “You haven’t felt anything yet.” Hot, open, mouthed kisses trailed along your shoulder and up your neck. “Is it okay if I move?” Suguru’s heavy breathing and gentle tone of voice relaxed every tight muscle in your body.

You panted heavily along with him. "Y-Yes, god, yes, please.” You said, kissing his shoulder gently as he pulled back to look at you.

Suguru caught your lips with him in a desperate kiss. As his tongue slowly slid into your mouth, he started to pull out of you before rolling his hips and thrusting back in. You let out a wanton whine into each hungry kiss, your legs shaking as you slowly wrapped them around his waist. God, you loved him; you loved him so damn much. His personality, his looks, his heart. But the way he was gently fucking into you, making love with you, made you fall even harder if that was even possible.

Suguru started to sweat, his face a dusty rose color from the effort he put in to hold back to avoid hurting you. But each time he slid in, and you tightened around him, or your breath caught, or you’d unknowingly rock back against him, it drove him crazy. His kisses became less gentle, harder, desperate against your lips, "D-Does this feel okay? Do you wanna keep this pace, or—“ his cheeks flushed, “W-Would it be okay—if I went a little harder?"

You stroked his cheek and nodded, licking at your swollen and bitten lips. "Y-Yeah, you can go harder a-and maybe—uhm—“

“Uhm, what? What do you need, Princess?”

“Could you go a little faster?”

Suguru swears he feels his balls clench at your request. He wants to take care of you, to be gentle and caring. He wanted your first time to be as unique as you were to him. But he was losing control. You felt so fucking good wrapped around him, your tight twitches trying to milk him for everything he had. Pulling him in deeper, squeezing the absolute hell out of him. That fragile grip he held on to, holding himself back, snapped like a twig in the breeze. His hips slowly dragged out and slammed back into you, picking up a more speedy rhythm. "F-Fuck—Princess—!!"

The increase in speed, Suguru’s deep primal moans in your ear, and the feeling of his body on you had your head reeled. You squeezed your legs around him tighter and harder, trying to rock against him to meet his pace. But your orgasm was building, causing every nerve in your body to catch on fire as you trashed your head back and forth, crying out in pleasure as his cock hit your g-spot with each rolling thrust. His feet dug into the sheets, pushing them down the mattress as he attempted to bury himself deeper inside of you while he pinned your hand to the bed, giving it a hard squeeze as he fucked into you with all of his strength.

The bed creaked under your combined weight, the headboard slamming against the wall as Suguru fucked into you. Drawing sounds you had never made before. Desperate cries., pleased groans, and sharp whines, god, this felt so good. You had never felt so good before. You found yourself in a hazy hue of pleasure as your orgasm began building inside of you, more intense than anything you had felt before.

“Fuck! Suguru!” You screamed out his name, your free hand abandoning the pillow and his hand digging your nails into his back. “O-Oh, my god!" Your moans got louder and louder with each manic thrust Suguru gave you. "I-I'm so close." You reached down with your right hand, rubbing your swollen hard clit.

“No.” Suguru grabbed your wrist, pulling it away from your clit, gently placing it back on his shoulder. “I got you.” His hand rubbed those circles you were craving over your sensitive bud.

“S-Suguru—haaah nnngh fuck! Fuck me!”

“Fuck you feel so fucking good—Princess, fuck, you're so tight, be a good girl and cum on me, cum on my cock—!!"

Your back arched off the mattress as you came. For the second time in your life, you squirted, only this time, it was all over his cock. This, by far, was the strongest orgasm you had ever had, and it ripped through your entire soul. Your walls clenched and hugged around Suguru, making him throb in return. Watching you was all it took to have him moaning, groaning, and whimpering as he came into the condom.

"Princess!!"

A string of your name left his mouth as he continued pushing inside of you. Fucking the tip of his cock firmly against your cervix as both of you kissed each other urgently. Nails digging into skin, fingers rubbing sensitive spots faster as your bodies rutted against each other.

After what seemed like an eternity of pleasurable waves, you whined as you rode out the last trembling waves of your orgasm. "Nnngh." You relaxed against the mattress as your nails stopped digging into Suguru’s back, opting to rub up and down his toned muscles gently.

Suguru hummed softly, slowly pulling back to stare down at you for a moment. Pushing stray strands of your hair out of your face. "Feeling okay?" He whispered as he slowly pulled out of you, taking care of the condom and tossing it in the trash.

"I feel," you looked, meeting Suguru’s watchful eyes. “Great, it didn’t hurt at all.”

There was a certain sense of pride in your words that had Suguru pulling you into his arms to snuggle you to his chest. He was so fucking happy; he just lay there breathing long, deep breaths as he brushed his fingers through your hair. "Yeah? Good, I'm glad it didn’t hurt. All I want is for you to feel nothing but pleasure. Are you sure you’re okay?" You buried your face into his chest, draping your arm over his chest, before turning to look at the palm of your hand.

“I guess I just thought I would feel different.”

“Different, how?”

"I don't know, to change inside and out." You whispered, glancing up towards his face. "Like I would finally be a woman or something.”

Suguru grinned, pressing his lips against yours with a gentle kiss. “Yeah? Are you disappointed that you don’t feel different?” He watched as you gently propped your chin on his chest, your cheeks flushed as you shyly smiled.

“No, because something even better happened than changing inside and out.”

“Oh yeah, and what is that?”

“I got to fall deeper in love with you.” You felt Suguru’s breath hitch as his eyes widened, focusing on your pretty face. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” Suguru kissed you harder, pulling you tighter against his body before he broke the kiss. “Be mine, please.”

You flushed as he gently stroked your cheek with his hand. “Yours?” He nodded, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“My girlfriend, please, Princess; I don’t want anyone else but you.”

“I wouldn’t want anyone but you, Suguru. Of course, I’ll be your girlfriend.”

Your boyfriend could have jumped over the moon. “Thank you.” Kiss. “Thank you, thank you.” More kisses were planted over your cheeks before finally meeting your lips. “Do me a favor and just stay here for a second. I'm going to get you some water and a warm rag.”

Suguru did exactly as he promised, putting on a movie in the background as he gently wiped you clean with a warm rag. He insisted you drink plenty of water, filling up your bottle twice before he crawled back in bed with you. As you lay in bed, Siguru gently massaged your shoulders and thighs, easing the burning ache that was starting to settle in them. He was so gentle with you, making you feel as loved if not more, the hours after you had sex, proving to be the perfect boyfriend.

Your relationship with the new title, boyfriend, and girlfriend didn't change much. Aside from the sex, the quiet ‘I love you’ whispered in passing, and the subtle displays of PDA in public, nothing changed. Instead, your friendship seemed to grow stronger. Full of more laughter and love, something both of you had longed before for so long.

Two weeks passed, and you both had been in Okinawa for a month before you knew it. Your days were spent transcribing, working on rewrites, and talking to Nanami and Utahime over the phone while you sat in the aquarium with Suguru as he worked. It was a month full of changes, healing, and love. Coming to Okinawa with you was the best decision Suguru ever made.

The pain of what happened to Riko was still there and would always linger, but with each passing day, Suguru felt his heart and soul heal a little more. That was all thanks to you. With due time, the throbbing stabbing pain would hurt more like a pinch to the skin. As long as you stood by his side, Suguru knew he would get through it.

He put his whole heart into the mural he painted, going above and beyond what he had initially done on canvas. He put so much detail into Riko, the fish, and his friends, whom he hadn’t seen for a month. But his favorite part of the painting was the subtle change he had made to you both. He had painted you holding hands, a simple fix that made his heart swell each time he saw it. A change that both of you loved.

While Suguru’s painting looked terrific, your writing improved tremendously! Nanami had nothing but good things to say about your intimate scenes and how your characters had grown with you. He was sure the next book you worked on would top the first one, leaving you feeling as good as your boyfriend.

Boyfriend.

God, you couldn’t get over that your best friend for years had become your boyfriend! Every time you would steal him while he would move his paintbrush against the wall, you’d giggle, hiding your face in your hands, your boyfriend painted. Being with him in Okinawa was the best choice you made, even though you had to make a sacrifice for it. If you were allowed to redo this all over again, you wouldn’t have changed a single thing about it.

After a long, hard day of panting and cleaning up details, Suguru stepped down from the ladder and grinned at the scene with Riko. All the base colors were done on this wall; he just had to add the rest to the other half, and then he could start adding details, followed by shading and highlights. As he admired his work, Suguru felt your arms snake around him as you smothered your face into his back.

“It looks great, baby,” your whisper was almost smothered by how deep your face was in his back. “Good work today.”

“Mmm, thanks, Princess. Only three months to go, but if I keep up the pace, I might get done sooner than that.”

“Well, no matter how long it takes, I’ll be beside you.”

You pulled away only to receive a kiss to the temple. “What did I do to deserve you?”

“You were yourself.” You answered without hesitation, smiling wide as Suguru ruffled the top of your head.

“You flatter me; I love you—” Before Suguru could kiss you, he stepped forward, knocking over a paint can. “Shit!” Suguru quickly grabbed some towels he kept around wiping it up. “Baby, could you g—?”

“On it!”

You were already running out of the sealed-off area, rushing to the bathroom to grab some damp and dry paper towels. Suguru watched you leave, grinning as he quickly cleaned up as much paint as he could. While he did his best not to smear the teal paint more, your phone on the table you worked at started buzzing.

Suguru groaned, abandoning his messy cleanup and wiping his hands on his shirt before looking to see Utahime’s name on your screen; he knew you had been waiting for her call to let you know if she got your next chapter approved, so he answered the phone. Holding it between his ear and shoulder, he hurried back to his mess.

“Hey Utahime, my girlfriend stepped away, what’s up?”

He chuckled at the sigh that came through the phone receiver. “Could you refer to each other by your first names like normal people? Would that be too much to ask?” Suguru tossed a few dirty towels in the bucket next to him, full of empty paint tubes.

“Yes, that is asking for way too much.”

“Whatever!” Utahime barked before huffing out in annoyance. “Look, can you tell my client that I need her to email me the letter of denial for the cottage? She was supposed to send it yesterday.”

Before the beautiful memories of last night that involved lots of shower sex could cloud Suguru’s mind, he repeated Utahime’s words to himself. “Letter of denial? Why? I thought she was waiting to see if she even got accepted or could stay for a few months rather than two years.”

“Yeah, well, the owners only do a two-year lease. They had been holding off on rebooking the cottage for your girlfriend since she had shown interest in it, and they were repairing the roof.” Papers rustled in the background. “But now that the roof is fixed, she only has until the end of the month to sign all the papers for her stay.” The end of the month was tomorrow. “But since she decided to go to Okinawa, she must send in the denial letter. That way, they can lease it to this other couple that is interested.”

Suguru’s mouth felt dry as he sat back on his knees. “Wait, what?” Sensing the shock in his voice, Utahime blinked.

“She declined the offer and went to Okinawa with you.”

So many thoughts flowed in Suguru’s mind as he put the puzzle pieces together. That’s why you were so upset on that first day here, distant and off. You had given up on one of your dreams to help him. It was a complete and utterly unselfish thing for you to do for him.

Suguru loved you so incredibly much that he knew what to do.

“Geto, are you there?”

“Uh yeah! Sorry, hey, about that denial letter, she actually—.”

Ten minutes later, you returned with a bucket and fresh towels. You were praying the pain hadn’t settled into the floor yet; you hadn’t anticipated it would take you this long to get the materials your boyfriend needed to clean up. But the custodian you had run into was nice enough to help you retrieve some towels and cleaning products you could use.

“Sorry it took so long, babe! I told one of the staff members what happened, and they just got me some towels!

You watched as Suguru hung up your phone, placing it back on your table. “Oh, no worries; I got a lot of it up, so cleaning the rest won’t be that big of a deal.” Suguru watched as you dropped to your knees and started wiping up the remaining paint streaks, taking your happy, smiling face in and saving it to his memory because he’d need to remember you like this.

“Say after this, let me take you shopping for some clothes. Maybe a new laptop and stuff.”

“Huh? But why? My laptop is doing okay.”

“Because I want to spoil my girlfriend for a bit.”

Without hesitation or arguments, you let your boyfriend take you to the store and get you some new clothes, more suitcases, and snacks. You thought he wanted to spend a weekend with you, like a movie marathon, on the beach, where you both lazily stared off into the horizon. While you fantasized about the weekend to come in the warm, sunny Okinawa, Suguru’s stomach was twisted in knots.

The whole helping-you with your book agreement started because he didn’t want to lose you. How could he not be with you for two years? When he hadn’t even told you how he felt. But now that you were his girlfriend seeing how devastated you were over the prospect of losing the cottage that inspired you and knowing that you had sacrificed to help him made him realize how selfish he had been. Suguru didn’t want to be the one holding you back. He didn’t want you giving up on your dreams because you were more concerned about him and his happiness. You deserved to see the place that had inspired your book series in person. He couldn’t deny you that right.

So, as you both headed out of the aquarium, bags in hand while your fingers were intertwined, Suguru took a second to look at your face; your eyes wandered over the aquarium tanks, admiring fishes and whales like you every night when leaving. Your happy smile, the way you occasionally steal glances at him, and how you held his hand as tight as you could as you walked out to head back home. Suguru needed to savor every second of this evening with you.

In the morning, Suguru was going to watch you leave for Europe.

Forever Tag List:

@darkstarlight82 @pandoness @nealeart @simp-plague @sugurubabe @chilichopsticks @reap3erslov3

ITHK Tag List (TO BE ADDED AGE MUST BE IN BIO)

@lemonintrovert01 @spankmydepression @renttheannihilator @witchbybirth @missmuffinr @lialia3945 @theobsidianempress @aquasan29 @toffeebrat @aussiemeerkat @chimichangagirl @zoroisminty @spankmydepression @em-aizawa @gojosimp26 @moonlightazriel @candy-s72 @makingtimemine @strflp @angel-academia @xocandyy @holylonelyponyeatingmacaroni

[physalian]

“How do I know if my story needs work or if I’m just being hard on myself?”

As I sit here accepting the fact that at 70k words into Eternal Night’s sequel while waiting for my editor for Eternal Night itself, that I have made an error in my plot.

Disclaimer: This is not universal and the writing experience is incredibly diverse. Figuring this out also takes some time and building up your self-confidence as an author so you can learn to separate “this is awful (when it’s not)” and “this is ok (but it can be better)” and “this isn’t working (but it is salvageable).”

—

When I wrote my first novel (unpublished, sadly), years ago, I would receive feedback all over the chapters and physically have to open other windows to block off parts of the screen on my laptop to slow-drip the feedback because I couldn’t handle constructive criticism all at once. I had my betas color-code their commentary so I could see before I read any of it that it wasn’t all negative. It took me thrice as long as it does today to get through a beta’s feedback because I got so nervous and anxious about what they would say.

The main thing I learned was this: They’re usually right, when it’s not just being mean (and even then, it’s rarely flat out mean), and that whatever criticisms they have of my characters and plot choices is not criticism of myself.

It did take time.

But now I can get feedback from betas and even when I hear “I’d DNF this shit right now unless you delete this,” I take a step back, examine if this one little detail is really that important, and fix it. No emotional turmoil and panic attack needed. I can also hear “I didn’t like it” without heartbreak. Can’t please everyone.

The only time I freak out is when I'm told "this won't need massive edits" followed up by, in the manuscript, "I'd DNF this shit right now". Which happened. And did not, in fact, require a massive rewrite to fix.

So.

What might be some issues with your story and why it “isn’t working”.

1. Your protagonist is not active enough in the story

You’ve picked your protagonist, but it’s every other character that has more to do, more to say, more choices to make, and they’re just along for the ride, yet you are now anchored to this character’s story because they’re the protagonist. You can either swap focus characters, or rework your story to give them more agency. Figure out why this character, above any other, is your hero.

2. Your pacing is too slow

Even if you have a “lazy river” style story where the vibes and marinating in the world is more important than a breakneck plot, slow pacing isn’t just “how fast the story moves” it’s “how clearly is the story told,” meaning if you divert the story to a side quest, or spend too long on something that sure is fluffy or romantic or funny, but it adds nothing to the characters because it’s redundant, doesn’t advance the plot, doesn’t give us more about the world that actually matters to the themes, then you may have lost focus of the story and should consider deleting it, or editing important elements into the scenes so they can pull double-duty and serve a more active purpose.

3. You’ve lost the main argument of your narrative

Sometimes even the best of outlines and the clearest plans derail. Characters don’t cooperate and while we see where it goes, we end up getting hung up on how this one really cool scene or argument or one-liner just has to be in the story, without realizing that doing so sacrifices what you set out to accomplish. Personally I think sticking to your outline with biblical determination doesn’t allow for new ideas during the writing process, but if you find yourself down the line of “how did we get here, this isn’t what I wanted” you can always save the scenes in another document to reuse later, in this WIP or another in the future.

4. You’re spending too long on one element

Even if the thing started out really cool, whether it’s a rich fantasy pit stop for your characters or a conversation two characters must have, sometimes scenes and ideas extend long past their prime. You might have characters stuck in one location for 2 or 3 chapters longer than necessary trying to make it perfect or stuff in all these details or make it overcomplicated, when the rest of the story sits impatiently on the sidelines for them to move on. Figure out the most important reasons for this element to exist, take a step back, and whittle away until the fat is cut.

5. You’ve given a side character too much screentime

New characters are fun and exciting! But they can take over the story when they’re not meant to, robbing agency from your core characters to leave them sitting with nothing to do while the new guy handles everything. You might end up having to drag your core characters along behind them, tossing them lines of dialogue and side tasks to do because you ran out of plot to delegate with one character hogging it all (which is the issue I ran into with the above mentioned WIP). Not talking about a new villain or a new love interest, I mean a supporting character who is supposed to support the main characters.

—

As for figuring out the difference between “this is awful and I’m a bad writer” and “this element isn’t working” try pretending the book was written by somebody else and you’re giving them constructive criticism.

If you can come up with a reason for why it’s not working that doesn’t insult the writer, it’s probably the latter. As in, “This element isn’t working… because it’s gone on too long and the conversation has become cyclical and tiring.” Not “this element isn’t working because it’s bad.”

Why is it bad?

“This conversation is awkward because…. There’s not enough movement between characters and the dialogue is really stiff.”

“This fight scene is bad because….I don’t have enough dynamic action, enough juicy verbs, or full use of the stage I’ve set.”

“This romantic scene is bad because…. It’s taking place at the wrong time in the story. I want to keep it, but this character isn’t ready for it yet, and the vibe is all wrong now because they’re out-of-character.”

“This argument is bad because…. It didn’t have proper build-up and the sudden shouting match is not reflective of their characters. They’re too angry, and it got out of hand quickly. Or I’m not conveying the root of their aggression.”

—

There aren’t very many bad ideas, just bad execution. “Only rational people can think they’re crazy. Crazy people think they’re sane,” applies to writing, too.

I just read a fanfic recently where, for every fight scene, I could tell action was not the writer’s strong suit. They leaned really heavily on a crutch of specific injuries for their characters, the same unusual spot getting hit over and over again, and fights that dragged on for too long being unintentionally stagnant. The rest of the fic was great, though, and while the fights weren’t the best, I understood that the author was trying, and I kept reading for the good stuff. One day they will be better.

In my experience beta reading, it’s the cocky authors who send me an unedited manuscript and tell me to be kind (because they can’t take criticism), that they know it’s perfect they just want an outside opinion (they don’t want the truth, they want what will make them feel good), that they know it’s going to make them a lot of money and everyone will love it (they haven’t dedicated proper time and effort into researching marketing, target audiences, or current trends)—these are the truly bad authors. Not just bad at writing, but bad at taking feedback, are bullies when you point out flaws in their story, and cheap, too.

The best story I have received to date was where the author didn’t preempt with a self-deprecating deluge of “it’s probably terrible you know but here it is anyway” or “this is perfect and I’m super confident you’re going to love it”.

It was something like, “This is my first book and I know it has flaws and I’m nervous but I had a lot of fun doing it”.

And yeah, it needed work, but the bones of something great were there. So give yourself some credit, yeah?

[isak-dot-gov]

Mic'd Up Pt.2

Pairing: Kelsey Plum x Reader

Word count: 1208

Part 1 - My Masterlist

.................................................

The next morning, you were jolted awake by your phone vibrating non-stop. Squinting at the screen, you saw a barrage of notifications—Twitter mentions, Instagram tags, and text messages from both friends and strangers alike. Dread mixed with curiosity as you opened your phone to see what all the fuss was about.

There it was: a notification from the Las Vegas Aces’ official YouTube channel.

“Kelsey's Biggest Fan: Mic’d Up!” the title read.

You bit your lip, heart racing as you clicked on the video. The screen lit up with the intro, and it didn’t take long before you saw yourself, front and centre. The video started with a slow-motion clip of you, wide-eyed and jumping out of your seat, shouting, “That’s my girl!” after Kelsey hit a three-pointer. A heart graphic floated above your head, and a cute caption popped up: “Biggest supporter in the house.”

As the video continued, it cut between clips of you and Kelsey’s jaw-dropping plays. Every reaction you’d had—cheering, fist-pumping, gasping at the refs’ bad calls—was captured in vivid detail. Your face flashed on the screen, excitement radiating, while the crowd erupted behind you. The editors had even added a dramatic slow-motion replay of you standing up and yelling, “Let’s go, Kelsey!” during a key moment in the game, complete with epic music in the background.

Your hands flew to your face, cringing at the full display of your emotions. The internet had seen it all. Your love for Kelsey. Your passion for the team. Your inability to sit still for more than five seconds when the Aces were on fire.

By the time the video ended, you were red-faced and laughing, even as the embarrassment settled in. The comments section was blowing up with fans reacting to your over-the-top enthusiasm:

“This is what love looks like!”

“Relationship goals AF.”

“Kelsey's girl is all of us when the Aces play!”

There were even memes already circulating. One showed you passionately screaming with the caption, “When you’re more hyped than the players themselves.” Another zoomed in on your face during a tense moment with the caption, “Me when the refs make a bad call.”

Your phone buzzed again, this time with a call from Kelsey. You braced yourself for the inevitable teasing.

“Hey, YouTube star!” Kelsey greeted, laughter bubbling in her voice. “Seen the video yet?”

You sighed dramatically, still blushing from the experience. “Yeah... I don’t know whether to be flattered or hide under a rock.”

Kelsey’s chuckle was warm, affectionate. “Oh, come on. It’s adorable. I think it’s safe to say the fans love you almost as much as I do.”

“‘Almost’?” you teased. “I think they might love me more after this.”

Kelsey laughed louder, her voice full of mischief. “Don’t push it. But seriously, the whole team’s seen it. A’ja’s been texting me non stop. She’s already planning ways to roast you at practice.”

You groaned, but you couldn’t help the smile forming. “Great. Just what I needed—A’ja Wilson making me the butt of every joke.”

“Oh, it’s not just A’ja,” Kelsey said, her tone almost too gleeful. “Chelsea’s already called dibs on the post-game interview next time, and Kate and Syd are coming up with new chants for you to yell. The whole team’s in on this.”

A notification popped up from A’ja’s Twitter: “Mic’d up AND famous? You’re a LEGEND now! #BringTheHype #CheerCaptain”

Before you could respond, Kelsey continued, “Anyway, we’ve got a team meeting later today. You might want to brace yourself.”

You hung up with a pit in your stomach, knowing full well you were about to walk into the lion’s den. Sure enough, when you arrived at the Aces’ training facility later that afternoon, the team was waiting for you.

The second you stepped into the locker room, A’ja’s booming voice greeted you. “Ayyy, here she is! The real MVP of last night’s game!”

The entire room erupted in laughter and cheers as the team gathered around you. A’ja threw her arm around your shoulders, pulling you into the centre of the locker room. “Y’all seen this video, right? Our girl was more hyped than the entire crowd combined!”

Jackie was right behind her, shaking her head with a grin. “Honestly, I don’t think we’ve ever had this much energy coming from the stands. We might need to mic her up every game.”

AC leaned casually against her locker, smirking. “I’ve been saying it since last night—she’s got more hype than the bench squad. We’re going to need her on the sidelines full-time.”

“Forget the mascot,” Megan added, laughing. “We’ve got our own hype woman.”

You could feel your face growing hotter by the second, but their teasing was good-natured, filled with warmth and camaraderie. The fact that the whole team had seen the video—and was getting this much joy from it—made it all the more embarrassing and heartwarming at the same time.

“Okay, okay, enough roasting,” Kelsey said, stepping forward with a playful smile. “I mean, I think we can all agree that having my personal cheerleader on blast last night helped us win, right?”

A chorus of agreement filled the room, and A’ja, never one to miss a moment, pointed at you dramatically. “You’re the reason we secured that dub! We need that energy every night.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, throwing your hands up. “Fine, I’ll accept the title of unofficial hype woman. But you better believe I’m charging for appearances.”

Chelsea winked at you. “First paycheck is going to be in popcorn and court-side seats.”

As the laughter died down, the team started gathering for their meeting, but A’ja wasn’t done just yet. “Yo, before we get serious, can we all agree that the next time she’s mic’d up, we get to pick the lines she has to yell?”

Jackie nodded, grinning. “Oh, for sure. I’m already writing down some good ones.”

Kelsey groaned, shaking her head but smiling. “I don’t know if I’m ready for this.”

After the meeting, Kelsey found you in the hallway, still laughing from the whirlwind of teasing. “You good?” she asked, sliding her arm around your waist.

“Yeah, I think I survived.” You leaned into her, feeling a wave of contentment settle over you. “Your teammates are ruthless, though.”

“Oh, trust me, I know,” she said, grinning. “But seriously, they love you. You’re part of the family now.”

As you walked toward the parking lot, your phone buzzed again, this time with a text from A’ja: “We need a full mic’d-up session next game. You down?”

You showed Kelsey the message, and she chuckled. “You gonna do it?”

You grinned. “You know what? I might just. But next time, I’m going even harder.”

Kelsey laughed, squeezing your hand. “Deal. Just don’t make me laugh too much while I’m trying to play.”

As you left the arena together, the warmth of being embraced by not just Kelsey but the whole Aces family stayed with you. Sure, you were the butt of some jokes now, but you wouldn’t trade that for anything. Being part of their world—even as the loud, slightly embarrassing cheerleader—felt like you belonged, and that meant more than anything. 

Plus, next game? You were definitely going to be the loudest fan in the building.

............................................................

[im-totally-not-an-alien-2]

Danny turned his face up toward the sky, letting Gothams rain poor down his face. His husband, Tim, had loved this city-to the point of dying for it while wearing a mask.

The court of owls had been cowardly, and honestly Danny should have expected that from a bunch of entitled rich people. Many of the bats were there taking down the courts lackeys but there wasn't any signs of the Talons, which made sense since they seemed to act oddly around Phantom and just kinda flopped onto the ground and bared thier necks to him. Wierd.

Everyone was fighting, so no one noticed the tip of a snipers rifle poking out of a crag in the cave walls until it was too late. A shot was fired.

And Tim was on the floor

Danny didn't remember much after that. He remembers Nightwing holding his little brother while Batman came to his side. He remembers the other bats running off to find the sniper and Danny just...stood there. He stared at Tims blood splatter and the gray matter all over the floor. The bullet had went through his head had killed him quickly but this didn't comfort him. The scene was so gruesome but he couldn't bring himself to look away as his vision was consumed by green.

The next time he became aware Nightwing was in front of him, asking him to turn himself in. Confused, he asked what he had done only to learn he had hunted down every Court of Owls member like a man possessed and torn them to shreds. No one was sure how Phantom knew who was a member or not especially while he was in that state, but it didn't change the face that Phantom had killed so many people.

Danny was horrified. How could he had done this? He had never experienced the pit rage before and never thought he would. But here he was having lost almost two weeks of time and gaining more blood on his hands than he knew what to do with.

So Danny, not wanting to argue or-ancients forbid- fight his family-in-law while everyone was grieving, agreed to turn himself in.

So he did.

He never agreed to stick around for an interrogation or a trial though. So he didn't.

The cops never even learned of his true identity before he took off but he knew it wasn't safe to stay in Gotham anymore. Heck, it probably wasn't safe to stay on Earth anymore with all the heroes that would be after him if the bats so much as asked. And there was no way he could go back to his own dimensions Earth either.

...but that didn't mean all Earths where out of the question.

---

Danny had finally gotten settled in this new dimension. Starting over was always hard but he had done it before. Grabbing a gig as a freelance translator and editor for a few publication companies was pretty easy when you knew what cards to play and what people to call. Plus, Danny was really good at making false identities and translating, so that helped a ton.

At night he would keep a look out his window, trying to spot the bats of this world, as as much as it hurt him to do so, he always delighted in seeing this worlds Tim running along the rooftops.

This went on for a while until Danny started getting nauseous and intense pain in his chest and abdomen. It was bad enough that he sniffed out this worlds Dr Thomkins pretty quickly and asked her to give him a check up.

Upon doing an ultrasound she found a strange sphere in his chest, which he assured her was normal, and an embryo growing in his abdomen which was very much not. Danny laid on the examination table for a solid few seconds and Dr. Tomkins was about to start rattling off his options to him before her patient started crying. "Oh thank the stars."

Danny explained that this was the child of his late husband who was murdered and he was very happy to have this baby. Sure, he had most of his personal affects (he had cleaned out his and Tims shared home and safe houses on his way out of the dimension, much to the absolue ire of the other bats) but this was a little living piece of his husband, which was something so much more.

But this also meant he had to leave again. This worlds Tim was just like the one that he lost and he had no doubt that some way, some how, Tim would find out about this child. Could he explain this in a way that was satisfactory? Could he handle Tim coming in and out of his home to visit "his" child as he would undoubtedly do? Could he stand to see the face of a man who looked like his husband, talked like his husband, and acted like his husband, but wasn't? No. He couldn't do that to himself. He couldn't do that to Tim. He refused to replace one Tim for another. That was so callus and shallow. He would never do something like that, grief or no grief. He was strong. He'd be strong for Tim.

He paid the doctor and thanked her profusely before leaving and going back to his apartment. He hadn't even unpacked most of his stuff before he was packing it all back up again. He needed to find a world where:

1. Tim was nothing like the Tim he had known and loved

2. Tim was not old enough to take custody of thier child if he ever found out

3. Batman was not around

4. Damian didn't exist. He was usually pretty cool with the little gremlin but he doesn't think he could listen to him insult Tim and not throttle a literal child.

5. It was not impossible to raise a child

The list could probably use some work but that was the gist of it for now.

-------

Danny had finally found his perfect Gotham after weeks or interdimentional travel and countless jumps. Well, perfect probably wasn't the right word for a place like Gotham but his point still stands.

He once again found himself sitting on the edge of a rooftop overlooking the city. He and his husband had liked to sit and chat in these kinds of places when patrol was slow. Now Danny was sitting alone in the rain in one of Tims old jackets reminiscing. Suddenly hearing a grapple line connect with the building startled him out of his thoughts.

Nightwing landed nearby and for a moment Danny thought he was here to insist Danny turns himself in again before he was reminded that this wasn't the same Nightwing and Danny hadn't committed any crimes here. Well. No violent ones at least. Forging a fake identity requires much criming as it turns out.

Nightwing approached him slowly and cautiously as if he expected Danny to bolt at any second. That wasn't comforting. "Hey," the big bird greeted calmly, "How about you step away from the edge? If there's something on your mind I'm sure we can talk it out, alright?"

Danny opened his mouth and then shut it again. Opening it again he blurted out, "I'm not gonna jump."

Looking doubtful, Nightwing gestured for him to come toward him and away from the edge, and if Nightwing were anyone other than a bat he would not have obliged as he did. Once Danny was safely away from falling to his doom the vigilante began asking questions.

After everything was answered and birdy was sure Danny was safe, he made a comment about the jacket and Danny told him it belonged to his late husband who past away recently. This led to Dick egging Danny on as he talked about his husband and grieved.

It was then that Danny showed Nightwing his baby bump and the vigilante was excited for him.

Somehow he and the various bats kept running into eachother around the city and one thing let to another. Before he knew it the bats where coming and going in his apartment to "check up on him"

This worlds Tim was still 16 and loved his role as Robin. He was grieving the loss of Bruce but...this version of Tim was different. Full of light. His smile was brighter and came more often. His humor wasn't as dark and...he was...smol. He began seeing this Tim more like his child than as an alternate version of his lover. Needless to say he planned on spoiling Robin rotten.

Everything seemed to be falling into place. He had a steady income, an apartment, some new friends, and was slowly unpacking.

It was smooth sailing up until his dead husband appeared in his apartment in the middle of the night staring him down with Lazarus green eyes. How had this happened? He was Tims husband and he made absolutely sure Tims body had been cremated (another thing the bats were mad about since Bruce and Tim were Jewish). Tim has specifically asked for cremation to avoid a situation like this where Ras got his creepy little hands on him.

But why would Ras send Tim here? How did Tim get here? How did Tim find him? Why did Tim show up in his apartment on random nights and then disappear into the city when he tried to ask him answers? Why did Tim barely speak? Was this a clone or the original?

Was this even real? Or was he finally losing his mind?

[hpowellsmith]

Some Honor Bound Acknowledgements

Today I want to highlight the amazing jobs that lots of people did to get HONOR BOUND where it is. It wouldn't be anywhere near so polished without their hard work!

My editor Abigail C. Trevor pushes my games into shape from concept to release, from big-picture feedback to meticulous edits.

Abby has a particular knack for teasing out the potential of an idea and pushing it further. At the very early stages, the PC was assigned to Ozera because of an injury but not because of any particular other issues, and Elene's Prospect was not the PC's hometown (and therefore there was no prior connection with Denario)!

Abby also writes games! Her first game, Heroes of Myth, is about a con-artist called to really fix a magical crisis. Her latest, Stars Arisen, is a fantasy doorstopper about being the child of an immortal deposed tyrant queen who wants you to seize back control of the city-state. Highly recommended!

Kris Lorischild copyedited this 595K word monster. This would be a massive undertaking even without my tangles of code to deal with and Kris truly polished Honor Bound to make it shine.

Kris was narrative co-lead/localisation producer on Cozy Grove, created You Are Jeff Bezos and more, used to be Senior Curator for Critical Distance, and has copyedited 20 CoG games. Check out their itch page here!

Adrien Valdes aka @defenestratin did the cover art. Adrien's illustrated three of my games now and knocks it out of the park beautifully every time. He's also illustrated many other CoG and all of the Heart's Choice games. See more of Adrien's work here!

I don't know all the names of the continuity readers, and although I've tried to thank the playtesters directly, I may have missed some—but from finding bugs, to noticing typos or awkward sentences, to letting me know where I was falling short of my goals, their work was invaluable.

Jason Stevan Hill, Mary Duffy, and Dan Fabulich from the Choice of Games team worked wonderfully on this release. Special shoutout to Rebecca Slitt's editorial review of the full draft which guided me in expanding and enriching a ton of moments that needed it.

These days Rebecca is mostly an editor and runs the Heart's Choice label (and many of my favourite games were edited by her), but she also created Psy High, a brilliant teen-psychic CoG game!

Shortly after Honor Bound was released, my friend and fellow writer Eiwynn passed away. You can find out more about her here. Eiwynn was a tireless pillar of the ChoiceScript interactive fiction community, helping writers and players old and new. Ever since I started writing with ChoiceScript, she gave me support and encouragement, and I know she did this for many, many more writers.

Thank you for everything, Eiwynn. Your warmth and kindness will be sorely missed by me and countless others in the community.

Finally: my wife Fay Ikin is my first reader even at the concept stages and helps me arrange my ideas as well as helping me untangle when I'm struggling (in writing and in life!).

Teran is loosely based on her TTRPG campaign from many years ago. I'm very grateful that she let me steal her setting!

Fay isn't on social media, but she makes interactive fiction as well. She's best known for her intense gladiator-pit romance game HEART OF BATTLE in which you can fight and/or romance your fellow gladiators, a magic medic, or a fabulously wealthy patron. It's a brilliant game, and I would say that even if I wasn't married to her! She also made ASTEROID RUN: NO QUESTIONS ASKED, a gorgeous and very underrated scifi thriller.

Thank you to everyone who contributed to making HONOR BOUND what it is!

Steam | Google Play Store | Choice of Games on Android | Choice of Games on iOS | Choice of Games on Amazon | Webstore

[jonathan-cranes-mistress-of-fear]

Things to note - from a "popular" fandom blogger

I absolutely memorize urls of people who are in my notes regularly

This wasn't always the case, but now tumblr tells you who is following or a mutual. I extra love those people

BUT I also have a special place in my heart for the lurkers or tumblr users who never follow, but regularly visit my blog

Yes please spam me with notes. This is not Instagram, note spamming only effects us positively.

Reblogs over likes yes, but I will be equally happy if you like 20 posts in a row even if you don't engage

Please engage though. Ask culture dying. We (usually) love when people ask us our favorite headcanon or for clarification on canon facts. If someone doesn't want asks, they usually say so. When in doubt, send in a comment. It's always welcome.

Just because I didn't respond within five seconds doesn't mean I'm ignoring you. I do have a life. But also, sometimes it's hard to respond for whatever reason (thanks autism) I do see your kind words and I love them. I'm not mad at you either. I'm just exhausted 24/7 However please understand that I do not owe you my presence all hours of the day. Yes, even if we are close friends.

Please treat me how you want to be treated.

I have almost 90,000 posts, mostly reblogs, but I have a lot of content and I do not mind you doom scrolling. In the same vain, do not assume I was the same person that posted one, two, five or ten years ago. Going through my blog to find "problematic" content only wastes time and tells me you think people are incapable of growth and change. Do better.

Keeping a schedule is tantamount to keeping people engaged and them building a following. Whether you post one a week or daily, or like me--almost hourly--people will come no matter your content if you give them a Reason to come.

No matter how unpopular the thing you are blogging about it's there is ALWAYS an audience. It's never a wasted effort to be creative and put your voice out there. Please, the fandom gets stale without new creators and ideas.

On that note, you are not stealing from another for making the same or similar content. That means you should gif that show that's already been gif'd dozens of times over. You should draw that comic of a popular headcanon/ship. You should write your story. As long as you are doing things in your own words/style and not outright copying word for word or sketch per sketch, you're fine. Two cakes are ALWAYS Better than one.

Being angry and spending your time hating/attacking/vague blogging about other creators only hurts you in the long run. jealously is a normal emotion, but when you let it take over your happiness you're only falling deeper into a pit that's already hard to get out of. (trust me)

Please, please, please do what makes you happy. Life should not be wasted on anger. You don't need popularity to be happy, sometimes it can be hella stressful. (take my word for it) Don't become the bully you wish you where in middle school. Spread kindness, support artist and creators. (this includes gif makers, image editors, amv makers, writers, OCs, etc)

Just. Have fun.

[fancyfeathers]

The Games We Play of Dust and Ash (Yandere Moriarty the Patriot Masterlist)

Sherlock meets his darling when going to investigate a scene, she is a reporter or a reporter who is trying to break out of the reviews of plays and flower shows she has to write. She is trying to talk to one of the police telling him that her boss told her that she should have clearance to enter the sight to report on it but they won’t let her in.

“Don’t worry, she’s with me.”

Like a knight in shining armor he comes in to save the day and her job most likely. So with the detective stepping in they have no choice but to let her in along with him. The two look at the scene together, while he is looking for clues she is writing down literally everything she sees on her notepad, even asking the police questions about when was the suspected time of death and when was the body found, actual important details. Before they part ways he asks for the piece of paper under the one she was writing on, it’s a strange request but she agrees and says farewell to the detective.

He returns to Baker Street with the sheet of paper and takes of piece of graphite to rub against the paper to reveal the imprint of what she wrote, hells she was able to notice a few things he wasn’t but of course there was a number of things she missed as well, but not bad.

“Oh you smart little thing.”

They meet again when she had just turned her finished article into the editor, she had waited until Holmes solves the case so she would get the whole story. She is leaving the news bureau when her shoulder collided with the detective by complete accident. They both stop to thank each other, her for letting her investigate the scene for her work, and him for her helping him solve the case with her observations. She tells him if he even needs her help again that he knows where to find her and she runs off and he still forgot to ask her for her name and it isn’t until the morning paper is published and her name is under the headline story that he learns it.

The two fall into a habit, he would come and find her at the news bureau when he gets a new case, they would investigate the initial scene together and she would give him a copy of her notes and he would give her the other evidence he finds as he looks more and more into the case, thing he finds when it starts to get dangerous. She is quick, not as quick as him, but quick none the less, the back and forths they have are almost addictive, her intelligence trying to rival his own.

One of these times when he comes to find her he can tell that she is distressed about something and sees that there is a piece torn out from her brand new note pad that she just said she hadn’t used. So he pulled that same trick he did when they first met and asks for a piece of paper and she gives it to him without a second thought. After they investigate the scene and they both go off to their own homes, he talks the graphite to the paper and immediately figures out what is distressing her…

She is investigating a death of a noble couple that someone thinks is a murder. There is a doctor who preformed an autopsy who found out they were poisoned, a librarian who was involved who went missing, and the name of a young lady who commissioned the reporter who Sherlock recognizes as a name of a woman his brother fancies but that is beside the point.

This is a dangerous case, he knows that and she throwing herself in the pit of vipers just to get the story. He can’t sleep that night, worrying for the first time about her, she is actively putting herself in danger.

In the next few days he meets her once he solved the current case the two of them are currently working on together. He also confronts her about her other project and she tells him not to worry about it which sets the detective off…

“I don’t want you getting hurt or killed because you mean the world to me, love! Don’t you understand that?!”

She excuses herself after the detective’s outburst, going to write her articles. When it comes out the next morning, the detective is left alone to think of ways to get her out of this situation, he doesn’t want her getting hurt but what if he was there to protect her…

The next time he comes to the news bureau to speak with her he tells her that he wants her to come along with him for the full case, and eagerly she accepts, not knowing what danger she is putting herself into until she is being treated at the hospital for the bullet in her arm. She is laying there with the detective at her side wondering if he was right, after all today she almost died is it wasn’t for Sherlock pulling her out of the way, she was lucky the bullet didn’t hit anything vital.

When he goes to visit her at her apartment while she is recovering and writing her article to help take care of her and glancing in the trash bin by her desk he sees the crumbled up pieces of paper revolving around her side project, but he pockets them himself, it could be an interesting case just not for her.

[skele-bunny]

Newly.

"The story of a water ghoul and a life in secrecy"

MAJOR CW: RAPE/NONCON ELEMENTS AND IMPLIED. NO GRAPHIC DETAILING.

Tags: Mild Hurt/Comfort, Mild Sexual Content, Polyamory Pack/Polyghouls, Fluff and Angst, One Shot, (for my Tumblr users: #memories tag)

Characters: Dewdrop, Alpha, Omega, Air, Pebble, Delta, brief Papa Emeritus III/Terzo

Word Count: 6,621

(Major thank you to @hypnoneghoul for being my editor and beta as well as @artificialmoth !)

"There were certain things Dewdrop preferred private. His summoning day was one. His intimate nicknames for both Aether and Mountain, another. The reasoning behind a majority of his scars. His pit life. The time before Aether and Mountain came into his world. One of the quiet, unspoken secrets he held was not only supported by him, but the Ministry itself. Many believed him to have only come around with the ‘new wave' of ghouls to replace the old.

Yet, in reality, Dew was older than those people believed. Summoned older. It was just a simple mistake. The summoning portal opened too long in the area of water, having reached out and gently pulled one out who came to be known as Delta. Papa Emeritus the Third in awe of summoning his first ended up with a second hand reaching up to find grounding through the harsh whirlpool still in the deep circle. How a small frame clawed out, gasping and laying flat in the middle of the angry waters. Realizing his mistake, Terzo had shut the portal, murmurs and whispers as they looked at the accidental pulling that stayed curled in on themselves, holding their breaths in anticipation."

Read on AO3!

*As per my personal policy, these types of fics won't be posted on my Tumblr.