#went off on a bit of a tangent at the end there

[crab-crime-enthusiast]

Definitely some interesting additions, and something I did contend with when I was writing these. Discussions under the cut with a Content Warning for discussions of Ableism & Disability Curism:

You raise a good point about the inherent ableism present (especially with Pirrha canonically being blind and being forced to cure himself of his own disability in order to be considered of any value), and I do think many deaf Eliksni were either pressured into getting prosthesis/augmentation or... worse. That's a common part of sci-fi/fantasy stories like this, unfortunately, and you see it reflected in conversations about disabled characters in sci-fi/fantasy stories all the time: The age-old debate of "why is my fantasy character in a wheelchair when magic exists?" and etc. etc.

I started thinking about this whole thing because I'm really interested in disability accommodations within these settings (as I'm disabled myself) rather than taking the approach of curism due to its rather... problematic nature. In my story, I wanted to more deeply explore disability within the Destiny universe as it's something woefully ignored for the most-part in canon. I think it's a missed opportunity when one of Destiny's core themes is about persistence and resilience against even the most dire of odds. I promise this isn't intended to be me shilling for my fic, I'm just talking about my thought processes! ^.^''

The interpretation I ended up going with for Sign (which I unfortunately forgot to include in my post x_x) was that some Conversational Sign persisted through the knowledge of a few select individuals who continued to pass it on and down despite most likely being pressured to augment their hearing. Military Sign, on the other hand, is a much more robust system due to the turn to a heavily militaristic culture, with information on it more readily available.

However, as information sources dwindled, Conversational Sign diverged into strong dialects as users filled in gaps in knowledge with their own contributions, which then persisted into any individuals they ended up passing their knowledge on to. Going back to my fic in particular, Kiraks learned Military Sign and then kinda made it up as she went due to a lack of a tutor when it came to creating a system of Conversational Sign. Her system of Sign is something she made up with her sister as a way to reclaim some independence after she lost her ability to speak.

The nature of the dissemination of sign knowledge meant that highly specific (and possibly even 'incorrect' sign) dialects became the norm, simply as sources about a more centralised and consistent language dwindled both to the brutal nature of the Drift and forced augmentation essentially drastically reducing the population that actively spoke Conversational Sign; Any chance of a centralised language realistically died off with the perishing of all but one of the Judgement Scribes. Variks would likely be the best source for possibly learning something akin to true Riisian sign (especially as I personally headcanon he has permanent vocal damage after Phylaks choked him in The Once-Shipstealer, and thus he sometimes uses non-verbal communication), but even his knowledge would likely be something not wholly applicable due to the high levels of variance now present in the speakers that remain.

A bit of a tangent, but I wonder if the actual usability of conversational sign would be affected by whether Eliksni Hatchlings take to augmentation from youth or not, as I imagine one of the main use-cases for conversational sign post-Drift would most realistically be giving Hatchlings a way to communicate until they're at an age that they can take to augments without danger to their life. I personally don't know if there are any sources that mention the augmentation of Hatchlings in the lore so I can't really make a call. If anybody does, please feel free to add them to this convo, I'd love to learn more!

I'm sorry to have dumped a mini-essay on you in this reblog, I just have a lot of thoughts about this topic ;-; Thanks for reading if you made it this far.

Eliksni Sign Language

Soooo in writing the next Chapter for The Light Provides, I've decided to write up some notes about the Eliksni Sign Language I have Kiraks speaking within the story. She's not deaf but is completely mute save for some chitters, and this lead me down a route of theorising about the different forms that Eliksni Sign Language can take. This isn't everything and I'm still building on the idea, but just putting what I have down. Ramblings below the cut:

Disclaimer: I don't speak sign language irl but I've taken somewhat of an interest in it due to living with someone who is partially deaf. This is just me spitballing about a system implemented in the world of my fic, building mostly on the idea of how a four-armed species with different ideas of social communication may develop a system of non-verbal communication. Please let me know if there is anything offensive and I'll remove it. It's never my intent to hurt anybody.

Basic/Background Notes:

Sign language not a standardised/centralised language due to the Long Drift and the splintering of Eliksni culture.

Dialects vary massively between Houses, especially as there is little to no remaining documentation about the language and only a few speak it.

Eliksni wishing to learn the language often must seek out a tutor who already knows it to get more than a very basic grasp on signing, leading to the perpetuation of House-specific dialects.

Glyphic alphabet remains mostly consistent between House Dialects, but syntax may differ.

High degrees of variation with subdialects of House-specific sign language developing to suit the wider range of body types present post-Whirlwind.

Cultural variations of sign language poses issues with unification attempts e.g. House Salvation, House Light & House Dusk.

TL;DR Sign language is tricky and complex with many different slightly different variations due to the Long Drift, making it difficult to learn and not applicable cross-Houses.

Denoting Tone:

A major degree of dialect variation comes from the favouring of facial expressions versus body language to denote tone.

Piggybacking a bit off of Eliksni expressions headcanons, but positioning of mandibular hairs as well as mandibles and nictitating membranes used to convey tone in dialects that favour facial features.

This form is more overtly favoured by mute Eliksni, whether that be due to developmental issues, psychological factors or physical conditions & damage to their voices.

Some utilise natural subvocalisations too, but this is rare, especially amongst Deaf speakers.

Some deaf speakers of this form may learn to understand patterns of vibrations associated with subvocalisations and learn to mimic them, if they did not know them prior e.g. Hatched profoundly deaf or suffered hearing damage in very early youth.

In this case, their vocalisations may sound 'off' to other Eliksni, a bit like a speech impediment.

Dialects that favour body language utilises things such as scent markers in conjunction with the position of the lower arms to denote tone.

Mandible snaps or clicks in communication are instead denoted through a claw tapping motion produced by pinching the claws together (Think like tapping the thumb to the middle and index finger). Claws simulate clicking sound.

Lower arms make tonal indications whilst upper arms are used for signing actual words or phrases. This developed due to the lower set of arms being naturally less strong and precise than the upper arms, making them less suited to prolonged sessions of extremely quick signing when in conversation.

Naturally, this form of sign does not accommodate for Eliksni who have been docked, but one-handed versions of this dialect have been developed by some docked speakers.

Nouns and names:

Common nouns and proper nouns have their own special designated signs

Regular names are instead either spelled out of their individual letters or, in some dialects, compressed down into their constitute syllables.

Syllables are often comprised of shortened individual letter signs, following common sounds like the way there are specific glyphs in the Eliksni written alphabet for sounds like "kk", "rr", "im".

Other Notes:

Using both sets of arms to sign primary language is viewed almost akin to shouting.

[neverendingford]

.

[awesomefangirl33]

See, something I'll never understand about the Undertale fandom is the fact that some people say that what Sans did at the end of the Genocide route was terrible? Like- excuse me was he supposed to figure out that Frisk wasn't the one in control during that time? After Frisk, to his knowledge, murdered his brother (which he never acts on in the neutral routes btw) and nearly all the other monsters in the Underground and accumulated a crazy high level of LV?

Make it make sense.

[whyisaravenlike-awritingdesk]

Thank you for the tag @c-e-d-dreamer !

Last song: Well I’m currently in work so technically the last song I listened to was Ed Sheeran’s new one on the radio (idk what it’s called, Eyes Closed I think?). But if we’re talking about the last song I actually chose to listen to, it’d be What A Catch Donnie by Fall Out Boy.

Last show: Shadow and Bone

Currently watching: I’ve been re-watching Buffy recently, instead of catching up on season 2 of Vikings Valhalla which I still have yet to finish….

Currently reading: I finished The Heroines by Laura Shepperson the other day and have yet to start something new so technically I’m currently reading nothing… but I’m planning on starting either Clytemnestra by Costanza Cosati or Lady MacBethad by Isabelle Schuler today!

Currently obsessed with: My Elizabethan Nessian AU. Give me any reason to trawl through the British Library archives and I’ll run with it, so I’ve been finding all sorts of documents about everything from 16th century sumptuary laws to accounts of the 1575 Kenilworth pageant. I’ve been reading both Leicester’s last letter to Elizabeth I and Henry VIII’s letters to Anne Boleyn for inspiration for Cassian’s letters to Nesta. Also, a gold heart-shaped pendant has recently been found that has Henry VIII and Katherine of Aragon’s initials on and “all yours” inscribed beneath in French. It’s stunning, and inlaid with a ruby or garnet Tudor rose and pomegranate. It’s one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen, and even though it’s been dated to around 1520 (and so 55 years too early for my AU) I’m tempted to use it anyway and have Cassian present Nesta with it. (He was originally going to give her a poesy ring but now I’m like…. Why not both????) Honestly I am having so much fun planning this fic, my little historian’s heart can hardly handle it.

I’m not sure whose already done this/already been tagged so… tagging: whoever wants it! ❤️

The post got quite long so starting fresh...

Get to know me meme! I was tagged by @melonsfantasyworld 🥰

Last song: You'd Never Know (acoustic) - Blü Eyes

Last show: Outer Banks season 3 (I love the silly little teens on their silly little treasure hunts)

Currently Watching: (trying at least) Shadow and Bone

Currently reading: Using Fejo by Victoria Aveline

Currently obsessed with: the idea of turning the story of Using Fejo into a Nessian fic. I'm only 4 chapters in, but damn if Fejo and Vanessa's first meeting doesn't scream Nessian! Also, the fics I have planned for Nesta Week. And my chaptered fics. And now I sound really self centered that I'm obsessed with my fics 😂

Tagging (with no pressure): @talkfantasytome @dustjacketmusings @moodymelanist @whyisaravenlike-awritingdesk

[wwooyology]

Tight Spaces | L.HS

「paring」 : badboy!heeseung x fem!reader 「word count」 : 5.6k

「synopsis」 : who would have thought a little game of truth or dare your sister forced you to play would end in such a way?

「genre」 : smut, fluff, a tiny bit of angst, university au(ish)

「warning」 : mentions of cheating, toxic ex, mentions of alcohol, truth or dare, seven minutes in heaven, making out, unprotected sex (big no-no), dom!heeseung x sub!reader, dirty talk, conservative neighbor?, praise, pet names (pretty, baby, princess, baby girl...), teasing, fingering, oral (f. receiving), creampie, manhandling, multiple orgasms, aftercare, heeseung is sickeningly sweet at the end, lmk if I missed anything!

It seemed like the world was out for blood, specifically yours. It hadn’t exactly been a good week for you, first you woke up late for an important test, then someone spilled their nasty kale smoothie all over you, staining your favorite hoodie that monstrous green, and you were stuck working overtime, without the pay, because no one else wanted to work. However, the sweet cherry on top was that you just so happened to walk in on your boyfriend in bed with another woman.

It wasn’t like he was the best guy to ever exist and your friends told you multiple times to just leave him. He was also toxic as hell and could give less than two shits about you or anything related to you, but that didn’t keep you from running out with tears streaming down your face. 

Now that Friday has finally rolled around you wanted nothing more than to curl up in your bed and forget the world around you. Though as fate would have it, your sister barged into your room without knocking and flipping the light switch on momentarily blinding you.

“Go away, Sana!” You whined, grabbing your pillow to cover your face surrounding yourself in darkness once more.

Sana just rolled her eyes before walking over and snatching the pillow right out of your hands, “Get your ass up y/n, I’m not letting you wallow in your self-pity while there's a rager going on in town.”

You let out a huff as you lay flat on your back, staring at the dark-haired girl, “I don’t wanna go.” Tears involuntarily filled your eyes and you quickly bit the inside of your cheek to keep them at bay.

Sana stood there with her arms crossed over her chest, a glare adorning her features, “is this about Sungho?” 

You didn’t say anything, but then again you didn’t have to because your face says it all. Sana just sighed before walking over to your closet and pulling the doors.

“Sis you have got to get over his sorry ass,” She rolled her eyes as she shuffled through your clothes all while you sat up in bed, watching her.

“It’s not even that he’s bothering me-” The look Sana gave you told you she believed otherwise, “Alright maybe a little bit, I mean he's going around telling everyone I’m a bore.” You scoffed, running your fingers through your hair. “He’s the real bore here, only caring about himself… asshole.”

As you went on a small tangent Sana put together an outfit, something that would catch someone’s attention but you would still be comfortable in. She was determined to get you laid or something so you would get out of your little rut with Sungho. When she was done she walked out of the closet and laid the clothing on your bed.

“What is that?” You asked with wide eyes, staring down at the outfit. Admittedly it was cute, but you were sure you’d free your ass off in the cool autumn weather.

“The outfit you’re wearing, now go take a shower, you stink.” With that, Sana walked out of the room leaving you sitting there to pick your jaw up.

--

And with that you stood in the living room of a very unfamiliar house, red solo cup in your hand. The bitter liquid was becoming more and more tolerable the more you watched your ex quite literally sucking the face off of a new woman. 

“Are you seriously just going to stand here and watch that disgusting rat or are you going to try and enjoy yourself?” The sound of your sister’s voice broke your focus on Sungho. 

You look over at her as you take another sip of whatever concoction was in your cup, “what do you expect me to do? Dance with some rando?” 

Sana burst out laughing, catching the attention of some of those around you two, Sungho included. He detached himself from the chick he was with before making his way over to you with a smug smirk on his face.

“Well, you’re the last person I’d expect to be here.” At the sound of his voice, you rolled your eyes before grabbing Sana’s arm and walking off, ignoring his calls for you to come back, “Good luck finding anyone who wants to be with your boring ass, bitch.”

His words hit a deep nerve and it took all of your self-will to not turn around and deck him right in the face. Noticing this Sana tugged you towards a group of people you barely recognized. Looking around you saw Sana’s two best friends and their boyfriends, but you had no idea who the rest of them were. You felt really out of place among them, your sister was popular while you, well for the lack of better words, were a nobody. 

“Let’s play some games!” One of Sana’s friends, Hanna suggested before pulling her boyfriend to the empty couch.

You, however, just stood there awkwardly unsure of what to do. You then felt something bump into your shoulder causing you to look over. There stood the university's residential ‘bad boy’ Lee Heeseung. 

“Pretty sure that includes you, come on.” He smirked, causing your heart to speed up, your face flushing red. Heeseung motioned to the group before walking over to them while you watched him. The black ripped jeans he was wearing hugged his legs perfectly and his black band t-shirt was nothing short of ‘him’.

“Y/n get over here!” Sana called out, snapping you out of your trance. You meekly walked over, taking the empty seat in between your sister and another girl. Looking up you locked eyes with Heeseung once more and you thanked the dim lighting otherwise he’d see you turning into a tomato. 

“Let’s play truth or dare!” One of the guys suggested as his buddy finished chugging his beer and holding out the bottle. Everyone around you cheered and agreed while you could have sworn you had been cursed.

Now you sat in a circle playing the classic game of truth or dare, everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves, but you? This was your worst fucking nightmare imaginable. Playing a game where you either had to answer some of the deepest, darkest, dirtiest, and freakiest questions to exist or do some provocative, cringe dares they could think of. This kind of game was not on your forbes to-do list, but you couldn’t just back out, not without becoming the laughingstock of the entire university.

You sat there, hands tucked under your bare thighs as you watched the guy next to your sister spin the bottle. Heat travels up your neck as the bottle stops spinning, landing right on… you.

“Y/n finally! Truth or dare?”

‘Fuck.’ You didn’t like the way he phrased that sentence nor did you like the way everyone's eyes fell on you. However, you weren’t going to give them a reason to tease you so you put on your best poker face before taking a drink.

“Dare.”

“Oh, she’s bold!” The guy smirked which left you feeling uneasy, the feeling worsened when he started looking around the circle.

‘Please don’t make me grind on someone or some shit.’ You silently prayed that you wouldn’t have to embarrass yourself in front of these people, who you didn’t even know. 

“Seven minutes in heaven with… Heeseung.” You could have sworn you felt your heart stop. Your eyes widened for a millisecond before you were able to cover it, then looked up meeting the eyes of the chosen male.

At first, you didn’t move not really wanting to be in a small confined space with another male, not right now at least. Sana just smirked as she bumped into your shoulder letting you know that the time wouldn’t start until you and Heeseung were in the closet. Rolling your eyes you handed her your drink before standing and making your way to the hall closet.

There were times you wanted to strangle your sister, more than you can count on your fingers, but right now? This very instance would probably take the cake. You stood damn near chest-to-chest with Heeseung in a tiny closet, neither of you saying a word, but you could feel his breath fanning your face. The smell of his cologne filled your senses making you lightheaded as you tried to will your heart to calm down.

Heeseung’s eyes never left your face, watching and studying your expressions. He leaned back a bit more to try and give you more space so you were comfortable which only caught you off guard.

“We don't have to do anything, you know? Just make some shit up when they ask.” His voice was low causing heat to pool in your stomach as you looked up at him. Your eyes were slightly wide, but he could see the curiosity in them.

You hadn’t expected that from him, not with the rumors you heard around campus. The girls that talked about him always talked about how he wasn’t one for relationships and that he could give two shits about their feelings, so to say you were pleasantly surprised would be an understatement.

Heeseung pulled his hand from his pocket before snaking around your waist, pulling you flush against him, “Unless you want to pretty…”

Your breath hitched in your throat as you looked up at him, searching his eyes. Then Sungho’s words rang in the back of your mind, instantly ticking you off. You were going to prove that you weren’t this bore that he made you out to be and if sleeping with Heeseung would prove that then so be it. So without another thought you grabbed the chain that was sitting around his neck pulling him down, connecting your lips to his.

His lips were soft against yours, sweet like cherries with a hint of alcohol, addicting almost. Your brain felt fuzzy as his lips melted into yours, and his tongue swiped at your bottom lip prompting you to part your lips. It didn’t take long for him to pull you closer, tongue slipping into your mouth.

Heeseung watched in amusement as you chased after him as he pulled away. Your swollen lips and glossy eyes almost made him want to say screw it and just fuck you in this closet, but he’d rather not get interrupted.

He leaned down, lips brushing against the shell of your ear, “We won’t have enough time in here, but we can go back to mine, how does that sound?”

“Please…” You let out a breathy sigh as his lips connected to the soft skin of your neck, leaving wet and sloppy kisses in his trail. Biting your lip to conceal any noise from any listening ears as he bit down and sucked on your skin.

After the seven minutes were up, the closet door flew open only to your classmates' dismay you and Heeseung were standing opposite each other. They ushered you to tell them what had happened to which you just shrugged your shoulders.

“Nothing much,”

However, your sister saw the darkening spots on your neck as she handed your drink back to you when you sat down. With a knowing smile on her lips, she leaned closer to you, “he’s taking you to his, isn’t he?”

You coughed slightly, tongue jutting out to wet your lips as you just nodded your head, giving her the answer she was looking for. Heeseung watched you talk to your sister from the other side of the room with a smug smirk on his lips, his friends pestering him for more information.

--

As the game continued you would catch Heeseung watching you or he’d catch your lingering gaze, you would hold eye contact before it became too much and you looked away, blushing. Sana was watching in amusement from beside you until she caught sight of Sungho walking over.

“Mind if I join y’all?” His voice made your face drop, souring your mood instantly.

“Sungho man, of course!” One of the other guys exclaimed with a wide smile and you watched reluctantly as he walked over taking the now empty space next to you. He sat down, hand brushing against your thigh.

Heeseung watched with a raised eyebrow as you tried to scoot closer to Sana, but Sungho just followed. He could tell you were uncomfortable, hell anyone with a pair of eyes could see it.

Sensing his gaze you looked up, sending him a meek smile, trying to ignore Sungho’s wandering hands. Sana sent a glare in Sungho’s direction before spinning the bottle, watching it as it spun and stopped on you, again. However, this time you were happy because you’d do just about anything to get you away from the creep next to you.

“Y/n, truth or dare.” Sana asked as she turned towards you, already knowing what you were going to pick and as soon as the word ‘dare’ left your lips she nodded. “Hmm…” She faked thinking for a dare before her eyes landed on Heeseung, “sit on Heeseung's lap for the rest of the game.”

Heat traveled up your neck, painting your face red, but you didn’t complain as you stood. However, before you could get too far Sungho grabbed your wrist.

“Now Sana, why would you do that knowing she has a boyfriend?” He raised an eyebrow as you glared at him, daring you to say something.

Had this been a few weeks ago you would have kept your mouth shut, but now? Never again.

“We broke up Sungho, would you please get that through your head?” You hissed, ripping your arm out of his grasp before walking over to Heeseung.

The dark-haired male smiled smugly at Sungho as you took a seat on his lap, arms wrapping around his neck. As you made yourself comfortable Heeseung wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you closer.

Sungho’s eyes never left you and Heeseung throughout the entire game, annoying you even more and Heeseung noticed. His hand that was resting on your lower back moved to grab your hip, his lips brushing against your jaw, eyes locked with Sungho’s.

“Wanna get out of here?” His voice was low enough for just you to hear, but his warm breath against your skin made you shiver. You nodded your head and Heeseung placed a soft kiss on your jaw before letting you stand. Once you both were standing he took your cup, sitting it on the table before grabbing your hand. “We’re outta here.”

That was all he said before walking away, sending Sungho a wink as he pulled you behind him.

--

Heeseung really did take you back to his place, after managing to escape prying ears and eyes.

You laughed softly as Heeseung ushered you into his apartment, away from his nosey neighbor who just happened to walk out as you guys made it to his door. Giggles spilled from your lips as you listened to him try to play the whole thing off from the small crack in the door.

“Don’t worry Ms. Kim, she's just my lab partner, we have a project due soon, no funny business I swear,” Heeseung reassured the older woman, crossing his fingers over his heart, a nervous laugh leaving his lips as she glared at him.

“Mhm.” She hummed before turning and walking towards the elevator.

Once she was far enough away Heeseung pushed the door open, moving you further inside. When the door was fully shut, he let out a sigh before looking up and meeting your eyes. As soon as your gazes met you both burst out into giggles.

“What was all of that about?” You managed to ask through your laughter and Heeseung just shook his head.

“She’s just some nosey conservative hag, don’t worry about her.” He rolled his eyes as he made his way toward you, “Now where were we?” He grabbed your waist pulling your body flush against his, your arms snaking around his neck.

You bit your lip as you looked up at him. Heeseung took your face in his free hand, using his thumb to pull your lip from your teeth before leaning down, and connecting his lips to yours. Your eyes flutter shut, relishing in the feeling of his soft lips against yours. Heeseung groaned against your lips when you tugged on his hair at the nape of his neck, “fuck, are you sure you want to do this? We can just chill and watch a movie.”

Your eyes search his as you nod your head and he leans down, lips ghosting over yours, “use your words, princess,”

You went weak in the knees, the fact that he wanted verbal confirmation had you fall head over heels. Then, again he probably didn’t want any sexual assault charges so you tried not to think too much about it. You couldn’t fall for someone again, especially not someone like him, but the way his thumb was rubbing soft circles on your side was making it very hard not to. 

Letting out a shaky sigh, you nodded again, “I want this, please Heeseung.”

 That’s all it took for him to grab the back of your thighs hoisting you up onto his waist, a small yelp leaving your lip but was quickly silenced by his. He walks over to the couch before sitting down with you in his lap, lips still on yours. The kiss was hot and messy, teeth clashing as his hands traveled the length of your body.

His hands were all over you, squeezing your thighs. Ass. Hips. Everywhere. Hands warm against your bare skin as he lifted your shirt. Once your shirt was off Heeseung threw it off to the side somewhere before making quick work of your bra, unclipping it like he’s done it a million times. His gaze on you was so intense that it made you squirm, face turning a vibrant shade of red. 

His hands fell back to your hips halting your movements, “Holy fuck, you’re so pretty.” He groaned, and you suddenly felt shy under his gaze. So you turned your head, averting his eyes trying to will your heart to calm down.

Heeseung pulled your hips down and you could feel his bulge against your clothed core causing a small whine to leave your mouth. The moment that you felt his warm mouth on your boob you swear you could have melted in his lap. A whimper fell from your covered lips as his teeth scraped against your hardened bud. 

You had never experienced this before, Sungho never, never, focused on your pleasure, only his own. So this new feeling left you feeling confused and extremely overwhelmed. The fact that Heeseung was taking his time and focusing solely on your pleasure, it was making your head spin.

Heeseung pulled away from your chest with a pop, looking up to take in your flustered face, eyes avoiding his. He kissed his way up the valley of your breast, chest, and neck before stopping by your ear, “Why are you being so shy now?”  His voice was husky and low, sending a chill down your spine.

You couldn’t meet Heeseung’s eyes, you were too embarrassed because you weren’t even sure if you were supposed to be feeling like this. Sungho had deprived you of any of this, of the pleasure, of the care and you felt like you could cry. Had he really only cared about himself the whole time you guys were together?

You were snapped out of your daze when Heeseung leaned back against the couch, his grip on your hips loosening, “we don’t have to do this if you’re uncomfortable.” His words made your stomach flutter, he cared about your feelings even if he was rock-hard underneath you. Tears brimmed in your eyes as your hands fell to your lap.

“No I want to do this, it’s just…” The words died on your tongue, what were you supposed to tell him? That your ex never did any of this so you were confused? No, he’d probably just laugh in your face.

“Just what princess?” Heeseung’s voice was soft, his thumb rubbing small circles on your waist. You licked your lips trying to gather your thoughts, why did you have to be so fucking awkward? Why couldn’t you just let him continue doing what he was doing? Thoughts cloud your mind and Heeseung could tell so he brought his hand to your face, grabbing your chin softly making you look at him. However, you were quick to avert your gaze and he didn’t take too kindly to that, “Look at me pretty.”

Your teary eyes flicker up to his, god you wish that the universe would just suck you into a black hole right about now. Heeseung’s gaze was filled with concern and that was enough for the first tear to break free, falling down your cheek. You, however, were quick to wipe it away before closing your eyes trying to mentally prepare yourself for the embarrassment that was to come.

Heeseung sat there, waiting till you were ready to talk, his eyes never leaving your face. The last thing he wanted was to make you uncomfortable, especially when he finally had you. So he waited.

Letting out a shaky breath you opened your eyes, meeting his, “It’s just that my ex, he never really did any of…” you gestured to yours and Heeseung’s body, “this.” Your face started to heat up as you tried your best to keep his eye contact.

Heeseung instantly felt an annoyance bubble up in his chest, not because of you, but because of the douchebag you called your ex. In a blink of an eye, he had you lying on your back, his body slotting over yours. Your eyes were wide in surprise as your hands lay next to your head. 

“So let me get this straight, not only was he a cheating asshole, but also never pleased you right.” His words made your face flush red, but you nodded nonetheless, “fucking useless scumbag.” He growled under his breath as he latched his lips to your neck once more.

A whimper left your lips as he bit down on the junction of your neck, “H-Hee-”

“Don’t worry baby I got you. I’m gonna show you how you should have been treated in the first place.” He said with a shit-eating grin, his tongue lapping over the spot he just bit, “Will you let me?” His hands traced the length of your body before finding purchase on your hips. He pulled back to look at you in your eyes and you nodded, “Words pretty,” 

You felt lightheaded under his intense gaze, “Y-yes.”

Without another word he hooked his fingers on the hem of your shorts, pulling them down as well as your panties. Heeseung looked down at you with such a hunger in his eyes that it left you breathless, much like when he ran a finger through your slick folds, groaning at how wet you were.

A small moan left your lips, your hips bucking against his touch. He slowly inserted his finger into your tight hole, slowly rubbing his fingertips against your gummy walls. Your eyes never left his as he lowered himself onto you, lips ghosting over the sensitive skin of your thigh. He pressed featherlight kisses to your skin, letting his lips trail down your thigh until his warm breath met your glistening core.

Your head fell back against the couch cushion as he dived into your pussy, a shiver running through your body. A moan tore through your lips as his finger sped up inside you, rubbing one particular spot that left you seeing stars. His tongue and fingers work in unison to bring you closer to the edge. He continued his actions until you practically shoved your hips in his face trying to gain more friction. A loud whine fell from your lips as his free hand traveled up to your stomach pushing down, keeping you in place. It didn’t take long before you were coming undone underneath him, sparks flashing across your vision, your whole body twitching with each of Heeseung’s movements.

Heeseung slowly pulled his soaping fingers from your core, a devilish smirk on his lips as he watched the dim moonlight reflect off of your juices. Your head tilted up, eyes meeting his just as he stuck his finger in his mouth, licking all of your essence off of his digits. A groan vibrated in his throat at the taste, eyes rolling slightly leaving you dripping on his couch.

“You taste so fucking sweet baby,” His voice was raspy as he pulled his fingers from his mouth, crawling back over your body. A moan fell from your lips as he touched you, only for it to be swallowed by Heeseung’s. Your brain nearly short-circuited when you tasted yourself on his lips, his tongue pushing more into your mouth. Your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling roughly making his head tilt back. You took the chance to latch your lips to his honey skin, leaving your fair share of wet, open-mouth kisses along his jugular. He groaned above you, hands tightening on your hips.

In one quick motion, he had you both in the same position you had started in, you straddling his lap. You didn’t let the sudden change alter your movements, too blinded by pleasure to care how he takes you, as long as he does. His grip on your hips tightened even more as you rolled your hips against his bulge, relishing in the feeling of his jeans against your bare cunt. 

“Fuck princess, are you that desperate for my cock.” His head fell back as you latched your lips back to his neck, leaving a trail of marks in your wake. Your lips trailed down his neck until you were met with the collar of his shirt.��

Leaning back you grabbed the edge of the fabric, pulling on it, “Off now, please.” The pleading in your tone made Heeseung’s dick twitch, a smirk pulling on his lips.

“Don’t let me stop you baby girl, take it off.” He pulled his hands from your hips and you didn’t waste another second pulling his shirt over his head letting it join the ever-growing pile of fabric on the ground. You sat back in his lap taking in the sight in front of you, your finger running down his chest to his toned stomach before landing on his hard cock. A groan fell from his lips as you palmed him through the fabric.

Finally fed up with your teasing touch he grabbed your wrist pulling your body flush against his, “Stop fucking teasing.” 

“Then fuck me already.” The sas in your tone flipped something in Heeseung, he wanted to be nice, to make sure you’d be left wanting more, to make you feel good. However, that plan flew out the window as he stood to his feet, taking you with him.

His grip was so tight on your thighs that you were sure that there would be bruises in the morning. The sound of his bedroom door crashing against the wall made you jump, but before you could even begin to question it he threw you on the bed. You leaned back, looking at him with a cocky smile that Heeseung so desperately wanted to wipe away, so he was going to do just that.

“On your hands and knees.” His voice was rough as he undid the button on his jeans. You didn’t give it a second thought before following his instructions, arching your back and giving Heeseung the perfect view of your glistening cunt. You weren’t sure where all of this was coming from, maybe it was just lust but you wiggled your hips enticing him, which worked.

Heeseung grabbed your hips before letting his hands travel across your body, leaving goosebumps in his wake. You whined into his pillows as you felt his cock against you, rubbing against your folds and clit. You pushed your hips into him, feeling the tip of his cock graze your entrance.

“You’re so needy princess…” He chuckled as he grabbed your hips, stilling your movements, “Let me make you feel good.” You opened your mouth to say something, but the thought quickly left your brain when you felt him push into you. A high-pitched moan fell from your lips as he thrusts deep inside you in one go, fingers gripping the sheets beneath you. He gave you just enough time to adjust before he pulled back until just his tip was left, then thrusts back in, eliciting a scream from you. His pace was nothing short of rough and fast, his thrusts deep. His tip kissing your cervix with each thrust leaving you seeing stars.

“Hee- fuck, fuck.” You chanted, any coherent sentences disappearing as tears broke from your eyes. Heeseung watched with a smug smirk as you came undone under him, your knuckles turning white from how hard you were gripping the sheets.

He leaned down, kissing the back of your shoulders, one hand grabbing yours as the other stayed on your hip. “You’re doing so good for me baby, so tight.” He groaned in your ear as you clenched around him.

A cry broke through your lips when the head of his cock hit that one particular spot inside your drenched cunt. He took note of your reaction before positioning his hip to repeatedly hit the same spot, leaving you a screaming mess beneath him.

“HEESEUNG!” You screamed his name as his hand trailed down, rubbing harsh, tight circles on your clit. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, I’m- fuck, I’m close Hee…” You whined out, your vision turning white for a moment as your whole body convulsed. 

“I know princess. Let go for me. Cum for me.” His voice was soft in your ear and your orgasm hit not even two seconds later, mouth hanging open with silent screams. If it weren’t for Heeseung’s grip on your body you would have fallen flat on the bed.

He cursed under his breath as he stood straight, grabbing your hips with both hands. His hips pounded into yours at an animalistic pace knocking all of the air out of your lungs. Sensitivity surged through your body as Heeseung chased his own high, leaving you a whining mess as you reached back, grabbing his wrist, nails digging into his skin. After a few more harsh thrusts he painted your velvet walls white, rolling his hips against yours and riding out his high until he came to a stop. You closed your eyes trying to steady your racing heart, Heeseung rubbing soft circles on your hips.

“Shit…” Heeseung growled slowly as he pulled out of you slowly. He watched as his cum mixed with yours spilled from your pussy, eyes following it trail down your thigh. Your meek voice calling out to him snapped him out of his trance, looking up to meet your fucked out eyes. Your whole body felt sore and you didn’t want to get up, but you knew you needed to get cleaned up. So you moved to sit up, swinging your legs over the edge of the bed.

However, before you could get too far Heeseung stopped you, “What are you doing?”

All of your movements stopped, worried that you upset him, hands in your lap, “I was gonna go clean up…”

“That son of a bitch…” He growled under his breath, combing his fingers through his hair. “Stay there.” He looked at you pointedly before grabbing his boxers and pulling them up his legs before walking off into another room. Confused, you just sat there, fingers fiddling in your lap, thoughts started to swirl in your head.

‘Was he gonna come back and make you go home? Or was he upset that you hadn’t moved quick enough?’ 

You were snapped out of your thoughts when Heeseung’s hand cupped your face, making you look up, meeting his worry-filled eyes. He swiped his thumb under your eye, clearing the tears that you hadn’t even noticed were falling from your eyes.

“I got you, baby girl, just lay back for me.” His voice was soft and his hands gentle as he laid you on your back. Your face flushed red as he parted your thighs, his jaw clenched at the sight of the mess between your legs. He willed himself to not get hard as he cleaned the mixture of yours and his cum off of your body before pulling one of his shirts over your head.

He threw the washcloth in the hamper before climbing into the bed, pulling your body close to his. You couldn’t help but feel a little overwhelmed as his body warmed yours, his heart beating directly under your ear, but at the same time, you loved it. You love how he made you feel so comfortable, so warm, so seen, so loved. 

Heeseung’s lips on your forehead pulled you from your thoughts, making you look up at him. It was like one look in your eyes and he knew exactly how you were feeling. He shuffled his body a little bit until he was face-to-face with you, caressing your cheek softly.

“Just forget about him, I’ve got you now.” His voice was sweet like honey as he pressed his lips against yours in a silent promise and so you did. Not a single thought of Sungho crossed your mind as you drifted off to sleep in Heeseung’s arms.

@wwooyology | Do not steal, plagiarise, translate, or repost any of my work

𝖉𝖎𝖘𝖈𝖑𝖆𝖎𝖒𝖊𝖗 : ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ɴᴏ ᴡᴀʏ ᴀ ᴛʀᴜᴇ ʀᴇᴘʀᴇꜱᴇɴᴛᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ᴏꜰ ᴀɴʏ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀꜱ. ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ᴘᴜʀᴇʟʏ ꜰɪᴄᴛɪᴏɴ ᴀɴᴅ ꜰᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏᴍᴇɴᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ ɴᴏᴛ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴛᴀᴋᴇɴ ꜱᴇʀɪᴏᴜꜱʟʏ.

[rauspberries]

Climbing Higher

aaron hotchner x bau!reader.

summary: since your sudden introduction to the bau, you've never felt like you've been on the good side of aaron hotchner. over time, your relationship has only gotten worse and worse, especially with your mission to annoy him and his mission to completely ignore you. when the two of you are put into a situation where you're forced to come to terms with your relationship, you're also forced to face feelings undiscovered.

tags: forced proximity, workplace rivals, no use of y/n, afab reader, comfort [just a tad], reader is afraid of elevators but not intimidating men, haley doesn’t exist, no kissing sorry ;/

word count: 2.9k

notes: told my friends to give me a trope, a relationship & a character. this is what my brain came up with. also; reminder that my requests r open if u have any ideas :]

Aaron Hotchner hates you.

You’ve known it since the second you stepped through the glass doors of Quantico. Since you were hired by the Section Chief, Erin Strauss, and not himself, your place inside of the BAU had been tainted before they had even seen your face. While the majority of the team has warmed up to you, you have never ended up on his good side. You were forced to watch from the sidelines as he was stoically sweet to everybody else but yourself.

That was not to say you didn’t try. At first, you tried to prove your knowledge. Talking his ear off about profiles, being proactive in the field during cases, bonding with the team. None of it had worked. All of his responses had just been soft grunts, terse nods or short answers. At some point, you had realized that nothing you said or did would change his opinion about you.

So, you decided to hate him back. If he wanted to brandish his negative opinion like a badge, you would simply return the favor. Respectfully, of course, since he was still your boss, but returning the favor all the same. 

Although his attitude towards you tended to be silent and stiff, you had settled for a more passive-aggressive approach, filled with bittersweet smiles and malicious compliance. You answered all of his commands with a smile that made your cheeks hurt, you slightly adjusted the stapler on his desk every time you went in there, you took the last bit of coffee in the pot right before he stepped up to the small kitchenette in the office. Your favorite was bringing in baked goods that you purposefully left one ingredient out of, asking him to try one and leaning on the idea that he wouldn’t be bluntly honest about them not tasting good.

Even though you tried your best to make Hotch’s life just a tiny bit harder, you were very aware of the fact that you weren’t blind. Truth be told, Aaron Hotchner was a handsome man, tall and muscular, to the point that made you have not-so-professional thoughts about him. Boss or not, the way he looked in a button down and his FBI vest had to be illegal. In some twisted truth, even his phlegmatic demeanor added to his allure.

As you stare at the back of his head while following him into Quantico, you start to conjure up the ways you could annoy him today. There were a few files on his desk that you could accidentally send flying to the ground in an accidental trip, or you could get Spencer started on a tangent during the case briefing to drag it on longer. Bonus points if it was something inappropriate, like BDSM and its effects on the human psyche.

The creativity of your own deviousness has a ghost of a smile dancing across your lips as you watch him step up to the elevators, pressing the button to call it down to the lobby. You sidle up beside him, pulling your bag up higher on your shoulder and giving him a sickly sweet smile. “Agent Hotchner.”

For a moment, you think about just how criminal it is for someone to look so good while being so incredibly irritating. His perfectly tailored dark suit brought out all of the features that made you sweat, so perfectly put together that it made you want to rip it apart with your hands. Even his hair is perfect after facing the brutal winds of Virginia, falling onto his forehead and making him look just the tiniest bit undone, even if there’s no doubt in your mind that he’ll fix it as soon as he’s in the office.

He greets you with a dip of his head, your last name falling off of his lips so quietly you almost miss it. It’s obvious he doesn’t want to speak, his eyes immediately turning back to the doors in front of you just as soon as they peel open with a metallic whir.

A heavy sigh leaves your lips as you follow Hotch into the elevator, staying near the doors as he situates himself near the back wall. You press the button for the sixteenth floor, watching as it lights up and taking a deep breath as the elevator jolts to life. 

Despite the gruesome things you see every single day, every reason you’re given to be scared, there is only one thing that you are fully scared of; elevators. They’re too unpredictable for your taste. The idea of the whole thing being held up by only a few cables, trusted with the maximum capacity of twenty to thirty people? Forget it. Just an accident waiting to happen. Plus, the gap between the floor and the actual elevator was a death trap for any small items you might own, and you were notoriously clumsy.

Since you either have to walk up sixteen flights of stairs or use the elevator to get to your shift, you’ve figured out the best way to manage your fear is to disassociate. Usually, you can disappear into your own mind long enough to zone out for the entire minute-long ride, not to worry about the elevator plummeting multiple floors to your untimely death at your young age.

You can feel Hotch’s eyes on your back as you take another deep breath, closing your eyes as you try to think happy thoughts, keeping yourself relaxed until you reach the floor you need to be on. The intensity of his focus on your back has the hair on the back of your neck raising, completely aware that he was profiling you at that moment. In fact, if you thought about it hard enough, you were able to imagine his face, all hard lines and tight frowns.

You’re blissfully distracted by the mental image of Hotch’s focused face until the elevator suddenly stops, emergency lights flickering on while everything else ceases to function correctly.

You take a sharp intake of breath at the unexpected jolt, looking around as if the answer would be painted across the walls. Your heart starts to thud a bit harder against your ribcage as you turn to look at Hotch, your cheeks dusting a light shade of pink in embarrassment at being so thrown off by the situation. “What’s happening?”

“Elevator shut down.” He responds blankly, his shoulder brushing against yours as he shuffles around you, his fingers jamming at the floor buttons. Much to your dismay, they don’t light up anymore, only useful for the soft clicking noise they make when his fingers poke at them. He copies your disappointed sigh as he presses the emergency button, crossing his arms over his chest as he awaits an answer from emergency services.

Stepping back to let him handle the situation, you lean your back against the far wall, covering your thrumming heart with one flat hand and digging the heel of your palm into your sternum in an attempt to stop it. Your eyelids flutter closed as you tilt your chin up towards the ceiling, the blinding bright lights helping to bring you down from the swirling worst-case-scenarios in your head. The sound of Hotch communicating with the building personnel and the other members of the BAU falls on muted ears. 

Finally, when he’s done taking necessary phone calls, he turns to you, the line between his brow deepening as he takes in the state of you. “They said they can be here in forty-five minutes. I’ve already let everyone know we’re running a little bit late.” His tone is so professional that it crawls beneath your skin, turning the bad situation even worse. 

You let out a dry laugh as you sink down towards the floor, pulling your knees closer to your chest. “Great. Forty-five minutes in this metal death trap. With you.” The irony of the situation makes you laugh again, fingers threading into your hair as you tug at your roots. “I am going to die in an elevator with my boss. My boss that hates me. This is my actual nightmare.”

As you speak, your breathing picks up noticeably, your chest tightening with the strain it takes to inhale so much air without exhaling. Your eyes shut tightly as you try to change the subject in your mind, but you can’t. You can’t feel anything but panic, running through all of the worst scenarios in your head like a fucked up Powerpoint. “Majority of the reason that elevators stop working is because of mechanical issues. Worn-out cables and malfunctioning motors. A cable could snap and we could plum -”

“Hey.” Hotch speaks, his stern voice cutting through the buzz in your ears and stopping your senseless rambling.

You are deathly aware of his presence as he crouches beside you, the sound of his jacket rustling almost deafening in the confined space you were sharing. Realizing the gravity of your panic, his hand finds your shoulder, the warmth of it burning through your blazer in a way that has you jolting beneath his touch. 

He pulls his hand away quickly as you flinch, letting it hover in the air as he sighs. “Put your head between your legs,” he instructs.

His tone is demanding enough that you’re immediately following his instruction, letting your butt hit the cold floor as you part your legs just enough to slide your head between them. With the help of your new position and softer instructions from Hotch to take deep breaths, you gulp in air like you had just been underwater, in through your nose and out through your mouth, just as he told you quietly.

Unfortunately, Hotch is right, your breathing settling slowly until you’re able to lean your head back against the wall. Peeling open your watery eyes, you’re met with his deep chocolate eyes, still stoic despite the slight care he had shown during your mini freakout. “I’m not going to die, sir,” you dryly tease, just wanting his focus off of you at this extremely embarrassing moment.

“I don’t think you’re going to die, Agent.” He responds coolly, standing up and adjusting his suit jacket. Usually, Hotch is hard to profile, good at keeping his face clear and his body relaxed, other than anger. It had become a fun little challenge to you to try and figure out what he was feeling at any given moment.

However, right now, that wasn’t the case. Despite his attempt to seem nonchalant, his eyes keep flickering over to you on the floor, his body language giving away his worry. His jaw was still clenched even as he stared forward, his fingers twitching as he fought the urge to clench his fists. It was almost too easy to read, causing you to roll your eyes.

Before you have the chance to mock him for it, he speaks, still refusing to look at you. “You’re scared of elevators?”

Huffing, you pull yourself to your feet, still keeping your back against the wall. “You’re the best profiler here. You’ve never noticed?” It was a challenge, falling off your tongue tauntingly as you purposefully stared directly at the side of his face, noting the clench of his jaw and the soft twitch of his lip.

That asshole. He was holding back a smile. 

Instead of answering your question, he finally turns towards you, his arms crossing over his chest. Your eyes flutter down to admire the way his muscular arms pushed against the sleeves of his suit jacket, only to immediately remind yourself that the man standing in front of you was not only a profiler, but your boss. “You think I’m the best profiler?”

“They didn’t give you Unit Chief for your sparkling humor,” you deadpan. You follow it up with a bittersweet smile, keen eyes noticing another twitch of his lips as you turn your body to face him, chin tilting up to look at him. Standing at six foot two, he easily towers over you, but that’s never scared you before. There is a certain power to looking up at someone that many people don’t see.

Hotch lets out a huff in place of a laugh, arms still crossed as he stares back down at you, the tilt of his lips slowly dissipating. A silence stretches over you, the only sound being a soft buzz from the emergency light ahead of you. He’s the one to break the silence again. “Do you really think I hate you?”

The question takes you by surprise, blinking up at him as you take a step back. “What?”

The man doesn’t show any evidence of being phased other than the tensing of his fingers next to his elbow. “Earlier. You said that your boss hates me. Do you think I hate you?” He repeats the question, his voice still just as calm and collected. You notice how his head dips down a bit farther towards you, slightly tilting towards the right, his body giving away his curiosity.

“Do you not?” You scoff, crossing your arms defensively over your chest, copying his stance. “You’re constantly dismissing me, facing away from me. I come up with ideas and you find a way not to do them, even when they’re good ideas. I also have a running theory that you purposefully set me up to look at the crime scene each time we fly out for a case because you’re always going to the police station first.”

It sounds stupid, saying it out loud, how much you’ve noticed about how Hotch treats you. You’re aware that you sound like a whiny brat that isn’t receiving enough attention, that there are so many things that you could focus your attention on other than your boss’ appreciation of you. There’s another side of your brain that justifies all of your actions. He was your boss, someone above you, the same guy that did your annual reviews and decided if you got your raise. He was close enough to every other agent, saying yes to “family” dinner and inviting them to watch him run his marathons.

You wanted the same treatment as everyone. You wanted to know Hotch personally, wanted to be able to invite him out for drinks, talk about your personal life and everything that troubled you. It was criminal to sit around and watch him laugh and smile with your coworkers from the sidelines, wishing that his opinion of you wasn’t so skewed that it totally ruined his perception of you.

As you mentally run through everything, the truth hits you like a freight train.

You like Hotch. Despite his composed demeanor and the cold shoulder you had received since you stepped into the bullpen of the BAU, the small bits and pieces you had seen from watching from afar had given you just enough of a glimpse of the real him that you had somehow ended up a scorned schoolgirl, giggling about the slightest things and whining when they weren’t fruitful.

Hotch’s brow furrows as he watches you closely. “What?” When you narrow your eyes back at him in confusion, he sighs. “Your face changed. You realized something. What is it?”

Rolling your lips into your mouth, you wish for the thousandth time that none of this was happening and it was just a dream. Instead of directly answering his question, you tilt your head to the side. “Do you want to get drinks sometime?”

“What?” He repeats, still staring at you like you’re having a mental breakdown. For the first time since you had met him, Hotch seems flustered, arms uncrossing to pull at the bottom of his jacket. “Uhm…”

You shake your head, a laugh bubbling in your chest. “Never mind. Forget it. Sorry. Stupid. I’m gonna stare at the wall until we’re out of here.” Following your promise, you turn around until your back is facing him, fist clenching at your side as you fight the urge to pinch the bridge of your nose.

Following a soft sigh, your name falls off of Hotch’s lips. You don’t react until his warm hand is on your shoulder, the touch burning through the fabric of your blazer as you turn around to face him.

To your surprise, a smile is on his face, the laugh lines you rarely see around his eyes deepening. “I’m sorry. I was taken aback.” He apologizes, his voice shockingly sincere. “I don’t hate you. And I’d love to get a drink with you. Seems we have a lot to learn about each other. Like the origin behind your fear for elevators,” he teases.

Rather than shoot something back, you’re too starstruck by just what had happened that you just stare up at him, your lips parted as you fight for the words to say. You’re only brought out of your daze by the thrum of the elevator starting back up, blinking as Hotch moves to talk to emergency services through the intercom again.

You are still silent as the elevator door opens to reveal the BAU bullpen, Hotch turning to give you a slight smirk. “See you during the case briefing, Agent.”

[fanged-fanfics]

☆ A Human's Sparkling — Starscream x Human!GN Reader ☆

Genre: Fluff || they/them pronouns for reader || No warnings needed

A/N: Yes I'm aware this is obviously indulgent but I think about this a lot so SHHH LEMME HAVE THIS. Also, please note that all my Transformers works will have a mishmash of continuity. I try my best to not write plotholes, but at the end of the day they're a mashup of various bits of lore not tied to one specific adaptation

──────.𖥔 ݁ ˖˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ──────

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Having a relationship with Starscream definitely had its ups and downs. To call it a slow burn would be putting it nicely- it was more like a very very VERY slow burn. Especially because you were human. When he came across you by chance on a mission, he never knew how important you'd be to him. It was a looong time of denial and second-guessing before he finally mustered up the courage to be honest for once

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Things went better than he'd ever expected. Though working through years of trauma and built up unhealthy defense mechanisms, he worked with you and let himself be loved for once. Still, he felt like he had a long way to go. The idea of siring kids didn't come to him for a very long time

ᯓᡣ𐭩 You'd brought it up first, and of course Starscream went into a long complaining tangent about how sparklings were hard to care for, irritating, and quite frankly could eat you both out of house and home. You tried to talk to him about it a bit more once or twice, but eventually you pulled back. If he wasn't ready, that was that. You were content to leave it there

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Until.. one day, after several months of doubt and consideration, he brought the idea back up to you. Now that the war was over, there were quite a few problems of orphaned sparklings. He'd already written off the idea of trying to have a sparkling with you the natural way— he still shuddered thinking about how it would look from that. But this was different. It was a way for him to try and give back to Cybertron like he'd been wanting, and for you to be happy as well. Once he reassured you fully that he did also genuinely want a sparkling now, you two set out to the Space Bridge together

ᯓᡣ𐭩 As was expected, having a sparkling caused a whole new well of problems. Mainly, Starscream had no idea how to be a sire. He didn't exactly have fond memories of his carrier, either. He struggled with realizing that this new sparkling was going to now take up all of his time. You were worried then. You had no doubt that he was trying, but he definitely didn't hide his scowls very well

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Eventually though, you notice his behavior shift. His scowling, as you come to learn, is merely for show. Just an attempt for him to keep up his 'superior commander' look. In reality, he knew more about sparkling care than you thought. He knew how to calm the little one when they got fussy, how to feed and clean them, and you swore you caught him intentionally trying to make them laugh. He hated admitting it, but his actions made it clear. He was learning

ᯓᡣ𐭩 And, obviously, having a sparkling gave you some problems as well. The sparkling loved when you held them, but they were extremely heavy. They loved to crawl around and explore, but could easily break anything. A human home wasn't the typical environment for a little bot. But with Starscream there to aid you, you both managed to keep your eyes (and optics) on them

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Starscream is VERY particular about who gets to hold your sparkling. His Trine are the only bots he let's hold them, and even then it's only for barely five minutes and under full supervision. Primus forbid an Autobot get anywhere near them. His wings will flare out and point up defensively, low growling leaving his voicebox as he presses the sparkling to his chassis, glaring heated daggers

ᯓᡣ𐭩 You're the exception to all his particularness. His protective nature and defensive sneers are aimed towards other bots, but with you, he merely watches as you engage with your little bot. Seeing you two bonding makes his spark finally feel at rest, if only for a moment

ᯓᡣ𐭩 He nitpicks everything pertaining to them. How to hold them, feed them, talk to them, what toys to give them, everything. He's very much a hovering type

ᯓᡣ𐭩 He'll take a while to admit it, but sometimes his spark lurches in a painful way when thinking about how he used to be. Back when he was at his height of power. He doesn't want your sparkling to ever see that side of him, but he almost backs himself into a state of fear mulling over it. Everything he's had to endure... it'll never happen to you, or your sparkling. Not even a tenth of it. He knew from the moment they reached a tiny servo towards his own— he'd rather do it all again than have them feel what he did

[ineffablyruined]

I want to talk about THAT smile. The one from the elevator. The one that scares us (or maybe just me).

This one:

It's stayed with me since the first time I saw it. Michael Sheen is an absolute master of his face, so this sinister smile means something. I don't believe that it's a forced smile that he's pasting on before he enters Heaven. It looks absolutely malevolent.

And I just couldn't figure out WHY.

Aziraphale just left everything he loves behind: humans, food, bookshop, and Crowley. Crowley most of all. He was devastated after that kiss, devastated that Crowley wouldn't just come with him so they could be together. He was hurt, shattered, unsure of himself and his decision. So why the practically evil face?

I don't subscribe to the Coffee Theory. I think it takes too much away from the emotional and character development and everything the fandom went through in those last 10 minutes for Neil to pull the rug out from under us like that.

So if he's not drugged, then what's the face?

The Metatron just dropped a bomb on him. The Second Coming. Heaven's going to restart the apocalypse. End the Earth. The place where he'd just left the love of his life and everything he holds dear. Make everything they'd fought for absolutely meaningless.

And then I remembered this face:

See how similar they are?

I've seen a lot of people put this down to a repeat body swap theory, but I don't buy that either. I think that would be less inspired than what we've come to expect from the brilliance of Neil's and Terry's minds.

I'm going on a bit of a tangent here for a second, but I promise it will make sense in a minute. When the demons were coming for them, Nina told Aziraphale that he shouldn't wait to be saved by Crowley, that he should come up with his own plans and save himself. And he did, but it wasn't a total plan. It was the beginnings of one. He held them off, but when his plan ran out of time, it put him and the two humans (except maybe not -> looking at you, Maggie) he's come to care about at risk. Then he had to do something reckless and probably stupid, and it worked, but it was too close.

Back to the matter at hand:

These two perfectly wonderful, complete f*cking morons have spent the last 4 years together. Probably daily. And do you know what happens when you spend so much time together?

You start picking up the other person's mannerisms, mirroring speech patterns and body language.

My theory:

Aziraphale spent that elevator ride coming up with a plan. He's come up with something that he thinks will be so clever, so unexpected of him (an angel), so Crowley-esque, that the Metatron will never see it coming. And he's not about to cock it up like he did in the bookshop, show up with only a half-baked plan.

No. He's got something positively diabolical. Something inspired by Crowley. So he makes the face that he's learned from spending four years in the daily company of the original owner of that expression. The only face he could possibly make when figuring out how to save the world and get back to his demon. And thinking about how much he can't wait to tell a Crowley how clever he's been.

That face is 6000 years of togetherness in the making.

[junowritings]

What about romanced Astarion reacting to the normally goody-goody Tav revealing that they stole the special potion from Araj before they left. He discovers this because Tav gives it to him as soon as they are out of sight from the blood merchant.

Oh I absolutely love this idea. Though writing this made me realize I need to put Astarion in my party more often. Went off on a bit of a tangent but I do hope you enjoy~!

=======

♡ Oh, the things we do for love, ey?

♡ Astarion plays nice with others in the interest of survival, and he’s made no attempts to hide that fact from you since you had really begun to bond. You on the other hand are akin to a bleeding heart, all too often going out of your way to do what you thought was right even if it meant putting yourself in harm's way as a result. At the beginning that attitude seemed pitiful - he figured it would simply end up getting you killed later down the line. And yet you’d rise, time and time again making an example of the morals that you set and surviving every encounter stronger than before. Even if your morals didn’t always align, he respected that tenacity.

♡ Even after you’d managed to worm your way into his very heart, the pair of you have butted heads more than once on the matter; at the high and mighty goody two shoes act that you face the world with. All of the reminders about doing good deeds for the sake of being good, not stealing from just anyone nor going behind others backs rummaging through personal effects for answers or loot. Not to mention all of that time spent helping others and listening to their plights as though they were your own. Honestly, darling, you really do make things harder on yourself by playing into other people’s sob stories. 

♡ Astarion never suspected that the encounter at Moonrise tower could have changed anything.

♡ He’s uncharacteristically quiet as you leave the room together after dealing with Araj, but that’s because inside Astarion is absolutely seething. A familiar feeling of disgust he’d longed hoped to quash down burns a hole deep within his chest, opening old mental wounds as though freshly torn asunder upon his flesh. He’s mad at that damned drow; the way she looked down upon him, using honeyed words that he knew were a damn farce because for fucks sake he’d been using the same tactics for well over a century. That look, that calculated appraisal as Araj gauged what the vampire spawn could offer her in exchange for her potion made his skin crawl, all too familiar with the look that spoke volumes of his value - as a means to serve her own whims and not an actual person.

♡ And then, when he’d shown reluctance, she’d turned to you, as though you’d reign him in and get him to bend to your will like some fanged pet you kept on a tight leash. Far from the truth, of course, but the lack of autonomy that Astarion felt watching the pair of you converse about him as if he wasn’t even there had him clenching his teeth hard enough that the ache in his jaw persists long afterwards.

♡ There had been a swell of satisfaction when you put your foot down on the matter, nipping her demand in the bud with a firm reminder that he had already refused her request - there was no more to discuss. The drow had gotten bored after that, uninterested in further discussion with her own desires now off the table, and Astarion was all too happy to be out of there as you trailed a few paces behind.

♡ Astarion stands by his choice, but another part of him kicks himself for turning down the reward. A moment of discomfort, to give up a piece of himself for a potion that could prove invaluable was all it could have taken. He had done it before - done it for centuries to placate that vile beast he once served - why would this be any different? A transactional relationship, one that could have given you a leg up in the battles ahead, and he’d refused. 

♡ He’s still stewing in these thoughts when a nudge breaks him from his reverie, a gentle brush of your fingers against his hand as you move into step beside your partner. Your touch is warm yet he prickles as though he’s been burned, pupils akin to pinpricks as he looks at you from the corner of his eye. He’s measuring you, for a moment. Takes in the brow furrowed and questioning eyes - not pity, concern - trying to gauge how he’s feeling. It’s a discussion for later, so Astarion dons that usual placating smile and turns to you, fully prepared to pull a spiel about that whole conversation being a waste of your perfectly good time. And then he notices.

♡ His ears perk up at a noise, the gentle slosh of something moving. Crimson eyes dart down to the source, to the hand you’d touch him with. It’s not empty - no, fingers curl tight around the corded neck of a familiar glass green bottle, and your nudge this time is more insistent as you press the bottle into the palm of his hand, urging him to take it. You relinquish the bottle to his hold, pale hands taking the glass and stirring up the liquid inside as he brings it up to get a better look. Surely this isn’t…

♡ But then sure enough you smile, a mischievous twinkle in your eye that makes his own widen as you shrug.

♡ “For you. Figured she didn’t need it anymore; since she just left it lying out in the open and all.”.

♡ The laugh comes before Astarion can stop himself - loud and unabashed from the sheer absurdity of it all. You? Actually stealing something? And for him no less! And they say that romance is dead, yet here you are wooing him one stolen novelty at a time. 

♡Hells he hadn’t even noticed that you’d swiped the damned thing - had it been when you’d turned the blood merchant down? Or back when she’d had her sights set on him? He doesn’t care for the answer, not really. He’s more impressed that you pulled it off, but Astarion certainly doesn’t miss the irony of it all. His lovely partner, casting aside your usual goody nature in favor of stealing something and getting one up on the woman who’d disrespected your lover. As if he wasn’t fond enough of you already - this was just another lovely little reminder of the lengths you’d go for him.

♡ His smile for a moment is all teeth, shoulders still shaking with the last dregs of laughter - which damn if he didn’t need - as he brings his free arm to curl around your side. The kiss pressed to your cheek is quick, vibrating with the appreciative hum that passes the spawn’s lips when you lean a little into him. Once he pulls away Astarion keeps his free hand looped around your side, the other holding the bottle up and giving the contents a dramatic little shake to show off.

♡ Perhaps he’ll keep this as a little secret; or maybe he’ll spend the rest of that night flaunting this potion teasing you for your first act of casual thievery. Whatever the outcome it’s worth the grin he flashes you as he gives a conspiratory wink and declares.

♡ “Oh my dear. We’ll make a fine miscreant of you yet!”

[moonstruckme]

hiii!! i love your writing so much i think i’ve read every single thing you’ve ever posted. i’m genuinely obsessed 🫶🫶 i was wondering if you could write something where the reader and remus have been dating/talking for a little while and she hasn’t had her first kiss yet and she starts to get nervous everytime she thinks he’s abt to kiss her and she runs away?? i’m ngl this is based off of very real events in my life 😭😭

i love you so much!! hope your doing amazing

Hi gorgeous, thanks so much! This is soooo relatable of you haha, I have a library of hilarious stories about my very hyper friend who kept literally springing away from guys she liked who were trying to kiss her, but it does make for some very interesting (and often very sweet) conversations!

Remus Lupin x fem!reader ♡ 1k words

On your first official date with Remus, the two of you went to a drive-in movie. You kept your seatbelt on the entire time. 

You only realized halfway through, mentally kicking yourself for being so jittery you’d lost all sense of normalcy, but by then it felt too late. It’d be awkward to take it off halfway through the movie, try to play that off as casual. You’d made your bed. You didn’t unbuckle until Remus dropped you off at your house at the end of the night. 

On your second date, you’re determined to be less uptight. You want him to know that you really do like him, even if your nerves make you jump and flinch whenever he gets close. At the Italian restaurant, it’s difficult to find a pasta dish without garlic, but you manage it. You’re a girl with an agenda. The two of you split a chocolate cake for dessert. It’s delicious, probably, though you can’t focus on much besides Remus’ story and the way his mouth moves as he tells it. How he tucks one corner of his bottom lip between his teeth when he’s trying to hide a smile. 

You have to hope belatedly that you haven’t somehow smeared chocolate all over your face while eating. You’re not at all confident you would’ve noticed. 

It’s a short walk back to your place, and you manage to jabber the whole way, a masterclass in self-sabotage. Remus doesn’t seem to mind, his hand light and cordial on your back as he guides you up the steps to your door. You savor the touch. It takes every ounce of willpower you have not to spring away. 

“It sounds really interesting,” he says graciously as you finish your tangent about the book you’ve just read. “I’ll have to pick up a copy.” 

“I can lend you mine,” you offer. “Maybe I can bring it the next time we hang out?” Your voice tips up hopefully at the end of the question, and warmth touches your cheeks. 

A similar pinkening spreads across Remus’ freckles. He smiles at you, the scar across his lip stretching. You’re spellbound. 

“Yeah, that sounds great.” You might be imagining it, but you could swear his eyes flit to your lips. “I had a great time tonight,” he says. “I really like talking to you.” 

Your voice is soft. “I like talking to you, too.” 

He takes a step towards you, and it’s like your muscles stage a coup. You take an involuntary step backward, a smile plastering itself uncomfortably on your face. 

“Thanks for everything,” you say brightly. “Goodnight!”

You spin and go for the door handle, and you’re nearly inside before you hear Remus’ quiet “Wait.” 

You turn. Lead in your bones. 

Remus is holding his palms up as if to show you he’s got no weapon. 

“Sorry,” he says, “I just wanted to…you know I’d never do anything you didn’t want me to, right?” 

You’re frozen stiff. 

“Like, even if I thought there was a chance you didn’t want to, I would never…” He shakes his head, looking lost. Guilt settles like a stone in your gut. “I guess I’m a bit confused. If you don’t want to do anything, that’s completely fine, but sometimes it seems like you want me to kiss you, and then you don’t…” 

“Rem,” you say. You feel like you’re breathing through a straw. “Remus, I’m so sorry.” 

“Don’t be sorry, sweetheart, it’s not your fault—” 

“No, it is. It’s not—I don’t want you to think I’m scared of you or anything. I’m not, it’s just, I get skittish.” You can’t make yourself look at his eyes, your gaze stuck just shy of his chin. Your face feels aflame. “It’s not you. I’m just nervous.” 

“Oh.” It’s a soft thing, more exhale than anything. Then his fingers curl under your chin, tipping your face up. “Well, you can relax, love. I was never going to make a move unless I got a clear signal from you first. But we can just take that off the table completely, if you’d like.” He gives you a small, gentle smile. “I only want you to feel comfortable.” 

Your heart zings right up into your throat. “I do feel comfortable,” you blurt. “I don’t want it off the table.” 

Remus’ eyebrows flick upwards. “You don’t?” 

“No,” you murmur, bashful. 

His eyebrows come slowly back down, puckering slightly as he tries to figure you out. His eyes narrow until his lashes kiss. His tongue pokes into his cheek, just a little. You miss nothing. You find yourself taking in a quiet breath, steeling yourself. 

You move across that tiny bit of air between you and find him there waiting.

It’s everything you could’ve hoped for and yet startlingly simple. Remus’ lips are warm and soft, pressing into yours with an intensity that you suspect is nonetheless restrained for your benefit. He tastes like chocolate cake. 

His mouth meanders over to the corner of your lips, granting one quick peck to your cheek before making its way back to the center of your mouth, reverent. He backs away slowly, easing you out of it. 

“Wasn’t really expecting that,” he admits.

“Me neither. Was it alright?” Your voice is a bit breathy. “I’ve never done that before.” 

For a moment, he’s quiet. 

“That was your first kiss?” 

You swallow, rubbing your lips together as you nod. 

“Sweetheart,” he grins, “you’re a natural.” 

A giggle spurts out of you, dizzy with the taste of him and the novelty of it all. “You mean it?” 

“I wouldn’t lie to you.” He mimes drawing a cross over his heart. It occurs to you that you both seem infinitely more at ease than you have since dinner. The corner of Remus’ bottom lip goes between his teeth, his cheek dimpling. “I mean, there is something to be said for practice, though.” 

You don’t fight your own grin; it comes out in full force. “Mm, I think I’ve heard something about that. Practice makes…defective, right? Something like that.” 

“C’mere.” Remus rolls his eyes at you, but as his arms wrap around you his smile mirrors yours. 

[stormz369]

☕💖 Can I Get Your Number? ☕💖 Ch. 2

Jason Todd x Chubby! Reader (fem)

A/N: Wow, I was not expecting that kind of reaction! Thank you to everyone who's interacted with chapter 1; I've had a rough week and you all made my day! I wasn't planning on posting chapter 2 until I was a bit further along with ch 3, but I just can't find it in me to say no to ya'll!

Chapter Selection

written with a female reader in mind, first person pov, no use of Y/N, hurt (no comfort) (yet), will probably get NSFW later, let me know if there's anything else I should tag this with!

warnings (chapter specific): chapter includes a brief scene of attempted assault (which will be labeled for those who'd rather skip it) angst, gun violence, some negative self-talk

words: 1.8k

Jason's first call came at exactly 2:05pm the next day. When I picked up I was immediately greeted by his voice seemingly from the other side of a very large room; “seriously, guys! I'll call, I'll call!”

“Too late!” Dick shouted, clearly holding the phone. “Hello! This is Dick, calling on behalf of my idiot brother, Jason! We met at the cafe yesterday?”

I could hear Jason shouting at someone, but it was muffled like he was under something. “Right … So are you going to put Jason on, or…?”

“Well, Jaybird is under the impression that calling a girl the next day is ‘desperate’ and ‘off-putting’, so we've taken up a poll at the house, and surprise surprise; we need a tiebreaker. Your thoughts?”

Before I could respond I heard muffled grunting; someone in the background shouted “no! Get him!” which was immediately followed by a yelp from Dick as Jason growled a bit;

“Give me that!” A door slammed, and all the other voices were gone, replaced by Jason's gentle, almost shy voice; “... Um … hi … still think this is normal sibling behavior?”

I giggled; “... Starting to veer away from normal now. But it's sweet, they obviously really care about you. And for the record - you can call the poll on the side of ‘it’s not desperate or off-putting'; I gave you my phone number, surely I expected you to use it, right?”

“... O- oh, yeah I guess that makes sense … So yeah, I'm using it. … Hi.”

“Hi~”

After that, I spoke to Jason in some capacity or another most every day. Turned out he was a night owl too. Apparently he worked most nights, so, after I assured him that a text wouldn't wake me, he started preemptively sending me a good morning text around 3 or 4am, so it was the first thing I saw when I woke up.

I loved how he could go off on an impassioned tangent; getting him all worked up over literature was especially cute. He did have a tendency to backpedal after a particularly passionate rant, no matter how many times I pointed out that I liked hearing him so excited. We also kept trying to arrange a day to get together, preferably without his brothers hovering this time, but his work schedule was so hectic that we kept having to postpone.

It seemed a bit unlikely, but I started to wonder if I had been right in the first place; that it was all some really elaborate prank. It certainly wouldn't be the first time an attractive man had played with my heart like that, though it would be the first time one had bought me anything before pulling the rug out from under me… 

Nearly a month into our texting relationship, Jason went radio silent for several days. No warning, just gone. I didn't want to be clingy, but I was a bit worried. He had been so attentive until this, what if something was wrong and I was out here thinking the worst about him?

On day 5 without a response I picked up a late shift at work, hoping to distract myself from the whole thing. It didn't work though, and I ended up trudging home at 2am blasting loud, angry music through my headphones. I was frustrated, and confused, and careless. I didn't notice the man behind me until his hand was around my wrist.

 ❌❌❌ -skip point- ❌❌❌

The world moved in slow motion as I was pulled into the alley. The man's mouth was moving, but I just heard a staticy ring. I tasted copper, and everything was too dark. Things didn't snap back into focus until I felt the rough brick slam against my back and I screamed, shoving against him.

All at once, everything was moving too fast; he was grabbing, I was punching and kicking, my voice was cracking. A second felt like an eternity, I couldn't even hazard a guess how long the fight actually took. But all at once it ended; with a loud, sharp sound that left me frozen in place and my ears ringing, the man collapsed in front of me. Red bloomed across his unmoving chest, and all I could do was stare.

❌❌❌ -end skip point- ❌❌❌

Large, leather clad hands gently touched my shoulders, bringing me back into my body. I slowly looked up, blinking. I immediately recognized the masked man who had come to my aid; Red Hood had made quite the name for himself in his time as a mob boss. I heard something droning on, but couldn't focus on any specific details over the sound of my own heartbeat still pounding in my ears. It took him gingerly sliding my headphones off for me to realize the noise I was hearing was just the next song on my angry playlist.

“Miss? Can you hear me now?” there was an electric quality to his voice. I vaguely wondered why more Masks didn't use voice modulators; it seemed more practical than the standard vigilante eye coverings… 

I slowly nodded. “... Y- … yeah?”

The red helmet nodded once, “did he hurt you?”

I looked down at myself, frowning a bit. My shirt was grimed up from the struggle, and I could feel the cold night air on the back of my thighs; my pants had ripped when I tried to kick the man off me. A shaky breath turned into a sob as I gasped, looking up again.

A million thoughts ran through my head at once. I wanted to scream, to curse, anything! But all I managed was a whimpered; “... Th- these were my favorite pants …”

“... Well, your boyfriend will just have to get you a new pair. Let … let me get you home, yeah?” I flinched as he reached toward me again, a gloved finger gently wiping away my tears. He offered me his hand, easing me out of the alley like a frightened stray cat.

I followed without complaint, turning my music off. “... No boyfriend …”

“A friend then? Someone who'll take care of you.” Red Hood led me to a motorcycle. He unzipped a bag on the back, and held out a red flannel shirt.

A watery giggle slipped out of my mouth and I shakily took it, tying it around my waist. “... I don't even know anymore…” 

“Don't know?”

“Well, I was talking to a guy, but … I think he ghosted me.”

“No!” I jumped at the sudden volume and insistent tone, looking up at him awkwardly.

“... No?”

“I … I just mean … a pretty girl like you's not gonna get ghosted. If he hasn't texted back in a few days there's gotta be a reason.”

I looked away, squirming awkwardly. Did an ex-crime lord turned vigilante really just call me pretty? “... Y- … I … what?”

He was silent for a long moment. I got the distinct impression that he was staring at me, but with the helmet on it was hard to tell. “... We should get you home.”

Next thing I knew, I was holding Red Hood's helmet. I hesitantly looked up as he turned, catching just a glimpse of one of those domino masks the other local vigilantes wore. He moved his bag and swung one leg over the seat of his bike, turning back to stare at me expectantly. The prospect of letting the Red Hood know where I lived didn't seem like the smartest idea, but I was definitely not going to walk home alone after all that. So I slid the helmet on and carefully climbed behind him, placing my feet where he indicated. As I arranged the flannel between my bare thighs and the seat it occurred to me how unexpectedly kind it was of him to offer it. I knew he had been spotted working with the Bats lately, but just because they had accepted him didn’t mean he was a boy scout all of a sudden...

Of course, now that I was on his bike I was faced with the rather pressing concern of where to put my hands. I didn’t exactly have handle bars, and I doubted he was going to drive slow enough that I could stay upright; I would have to lean against him. I took a deep, steadying breath, and placed my hands on his shoulders. Hood froze a bit, and after a moment he reached behind himself to grasp my elbows. He gently pulled me to wrap my arms around his waist.

 “It's actually safest this way. Interlock your fingers, and lean with me on turns.” His voice was so much nicer without the helmet distorting it, even if he was doing a truly terrible Batman impression. 

“... O- ok…” I clung to him, feeling my entire body heat up. I wasn't sure how much of that was because I was blushing and how much was because the Red Hood was apparently a living space heater, but either way I was glad he couldn't see my face. I told him how to get to my apartment, and we sped off.

The roar of the engine and the wind whipping past mercifully drowned out anything we could have hoped to say to each other. I shut my eyes just for a moment, trying not to cry again, and suddenly Hood’s hand was trapping mine against his stomach. “... Hey, this it?”

I jolted slightly, looking up at the familiar building. I nodded, slowly extracted myself from his grip, and slid back onto solid ground. He held a hand up to stop me as I started to remove the borrowed flannel.

“Keep it.”

I blinked slowly, having trouble processing what he said. “... But … it’s your shirt … how will I give it back to you?”

He chuckled softly; “it’s just a shirt.”

I didn’t have the energy to argue the matter any further. I slipped his helmet off, holding it out to him.

“Thank you … I can't believe I let this happen…”

He frowned deeply at that, and his voice shifted a bit from a fake-Batman voice into an actually deep, grumpy tone; “you didn't let anything happen.”

“I'm usually so much more observant, if I had just been paying attention…”

“He would have changed tactics. You did nothing wrong. I don't want you thinking otherwise, got it?”

I sniffled softly, looking down at my shoes. “... I … God, I didn't even have my keys in my hand… I was taught better…”

“And I was taught not to kill. Shit happens.”

I blinked a bit, unable to stop the laugh that bubbled up. “… I … I guess so. … Th- Thank you … for everything.”

He nodded once before putting his helmet back on. Before I could step away, he reached out to touch my hand again. “Hey. You did everything right, ok? You drew attention, and you kept him off until I got there. You have nothing to be ashamed of. Got it?”

I nodded slowly, stepping back a bit. “… ok.”

“Good. Now, get inside.” He waited there, watching me. Only after the building's front door was closed and locked did I hear his motorcycle speed away.

Next ->

Divider by: @saradika

Taglist: @jawdropforkpop

(If you would like to be added to the taglist feel free to let me know!)

[justmeinadaze]

Inescapable: Letters (Steddie X You)

A/N: I give you treat my dear friends. A glimpse into inmate Steddie. I'm going to write a full story but for some reason the idea of them writing back and forth burned into my brain. Think of this as a prequel so to speak.

Enjoy!

Warnings: Older (Early 30s) Prisoner Steddie & Young (Early 20s) Fem college student Y/N, Everything is in letter format. Mentions of smut, some dirty talk, angst (because I'm me), both men were convicted even though they are innocent, near the end we get some glimpses of toxic behavior, Jealous Steddie <3, cliffhanger esc ending.

Word Count: 2918

"You can build a prison of stone and steel, but you merely present the prisoner with a challenge. Any truly determined man will find a way out but love, love is the perfect prison. Inescapable."-- Wilson Fisk (Daredevil)

July 1996

Mr. Munson and Mr. Harrington, 

I know you don’t know me but my name is Y/N Y/L/N and I’m a student here at Hawkins University. I’m supposed to be doing a project for my criminal justice class and with your permission I’d like to do it on you. 

I’m working towards getting my law degree and so many kids in my class are doing theirs on people like Bundy or Gacy. How does that help teach them? I’ve done research on your case and I feel like you both are innocent. Add in the fact that the judge wanted to make “an example” out of you two… it’s ridiculous. 

Neither of you had a prior history of violence and Mr. Harrington, your parents are prominent members of Hawkins! UGH! I just don’t get it. 

Sorry. I went off on a bit of a tangent there… I just hate how you both were treated. 

If you don’t want me to utilize your case for my class I’ll completely understand. If you don’t respond I’ll take that as a no as well. 

Thank you,

--Y/N.

################

July 1996,

Sweetheart,

You have no idea how good it made us feel to have someone reach out to us, let alone agree that we are innocent. Society forgot about us a while ago but thankfully Steve and I have each other. 

And now you we hope : ). 

We have no problem with you doing your project on our case. What do you need from us? Details I imagine but what else? Are we allowed to know more about you? We know your name is Y/N, you’re a law student, and judging by the intoxicating scent that wafted when we opened your letter you smell really fucking good. 

Please feel free to be open with us.  We’re nice guys we swear.

-Eddie

Y/N,

I hope Eddie didn’t come off too strong with his letter. I told him we need to be respectful but like he said people kind of forgot about us. It’s nice to feel appreciated. 

We have no problem with you using us on your project and you don’t have to tell us anything you don’t want to. I understand that talking to someone in our circumstances can be a bit scary especially for a young lady like you. 

Are you only going to be speaking with us or do you need to talk to our families to? My parents gave up on me after I was found guilty so they probably won’t be much help. Eddie’s uncle Wayne Munson is a nice guy. You can tell him we sent you and he’ll answer your questions. We also have some friends people who were around the time we were arrested who can help to. 

We look forward to hearing from you, 

-Steve

P.S. You can call us Steve and Eddie. We already feel old enough : )

####################

July 1996

Eddie & Steve, 

Thank you so much! You have no idea how important this is to me. I don’t just want to do this for my class but I’d like to use this case for my graduation project as well. But we don’t have to think about that now. I barely like to think that far ahead so I use the excuse of that is two years away. 

Eddie didn’t come on too strong : ).

I AM a law student and a sophomore at Hawkins U. I’ll be 21 in a few months so I can finally move up to being a bartender at the restaurant I work at. College is expensive but soon it will be worth it. I’m attaching a picture with the letter just so you have an image of who you’re talking to. 

Growing up I heard all about you two. Hawkins High used to have your Hellfire Club, Eddie, but they disbanded it a couple of years before I graduated. The parents said they didn’t think it was right for their kids to belong to a club created by someone such as yourself. Since Dustin Henderson wasn’t there to advocate for you guys anymore…

I don’t have to reach out or talk to anyone you don’t want me to. I know most of the people involved in your case aren’t even in Hawkins anymore. 

I’m so sorry. It must be hard having everyone you know disappear. 

My parents aren’t exactly fans of my chosen profession. My mom hates lawyers since her divorce lawyer wasn’t able to get her more alimony from my father and my dad is cop so enough said hahaha!

I’ve been with my boyfriend for a few months. He’s a film major and keeps begging me to allow him to do an interview with you two. I keep telling him no. You’re people not circus animals. 

Let’s start with you two telling me whatever makes you comfortable in regard to your case!

-Y/N

####################

December 1996,

Sweetheart,

Merry Christmas! 

Did Wayne give you the presents we bought you? My uncle said it’s important for college girls especially soon to be lawyers to have tape recorders. I’d love to hear if you liked it and if you can use it in your classes. 

It’s been a couple of days since you called. I hope everything is alright. We miss the sound of your voice…

Y/N, I know I can come off a bit forward but I hope I didn’t scare you away by talking to you the way I did during our last conversation. I can’t help it, you know? You’re just so gorgeous and you’ve been so good to us that my brain promptly goes into flirtation mode. 

Anyway, yeah, I want to hear how your Christmas went and if Derek’s family was good to you.

-Eddie

Honey, 

Merry Christmas! 

Ed forgot to mention that we did get your gifts and are incredibly thankful for the books. Since I was arrested I’ve opened my mind when it comes to reading and Munson’s fantasy books at least take me away mentally to a different world. 

He’s right by the way… you are incredibly beautiful. 

Would you be open to seeing us in person? 

Just a nice friendly visit where we can talk about your project and get to know you more. 

If not we completely understand.

-Steve

##########################

February 1997

Eddie & Steve, 

I’m sorry I haven’t come by or answered the phone. After our last visit, I just…

I love Derek but I care about you both so much. When you kissed me We have to keep this professional. Not just because of my boyfriend but because I’m studying to be a lawyer. How would it look if I fell in love started a relationship with inmates I’m working with?

Please understand.

-Y/N

#######################

February 1997

Sweetheart,

We understand but you have to also understand that we’ve never met anyone like you. You’re so kind and beautiful. You listen to what we have to say and actually care about us. I can still feel your lips against mine and nothing in my life has ever tasted as sweet. 

Can you still feel me, princess?

For the first time in almost 11 years, I actually have some hope. 

Does he make you feel like we do, honey? Your heavy breath against my mouth when I kissed you tells me no. I know we’re trapped here for the next 14 years but, baby, we can still take care of you. We just have to be a bit imaginative with certain things but….

No one has to know, baby, not even Derek. 

-Steve & Eddie

#######################

February 1997

Baby, 

Fuck, sweetheart, you have no idea how hearing you touch yourself over the phone got us going. If we could have private phones we would have stroked our cocks for you so you could hear how much you turn us on.

I can still hear your heavy pants in my ear while you fucked your fingers. 

I’m playing with myself right now at the thought of how tight that young little pussy is. Fuck… picturing those sexy hips slam against me as you ride my dick. Do you like it rough or nice and slow? Delicate, just like you, pretty girl. 

Shit. I just came so hard. 

Would you let Steve and I fill you up? Make you really ours?

I wish we could fall asleep with you between us. I’d give anything to hold you in my arms and play with your hair. 

Can’t wait to see you again, princess. 

-Eddie.

############################

April 1997

Honey, 

How did your test go for your class? I’m sorry we weren’t more helpful but I’m glad you brought your stuff to show us what you’ve been working on. It makes us so happy to see you working so hard and achieving your dreams. You deserve all the good things in this world. 

I’ve been thinking about you since we last saw you. Aren’t you glad now you wore that sexy skirt?

God, I can still smell you on my fingers. I loved feeling you cling to my arm as I thrust them into your tight little cunt. We have to work on silencing those moans a bit more : ).

I keep having dreams about your pretty mouth wrapped around my cock just looking up at me with those big, beautiful eyes while I fuck your throat. 

Do you think about us? Tell us all your fantasies, baby. 

We love you. 

-Steve

#######################

April 1997

Eddie & Steve, 

You are such bad boys, you know that? I like it though…

Sometimes when I’m writing to you, Derek will walk by and I feel naughty but giddy. I’m doing something I definitely shouldn’t be doing. When we have sex, I don’t see him anymore. 

I just see you two. 

I wish I could take care of you the way you do me. I want to feel you both inside of me, stretching me open. I want to choke on Steve’s cock and ride Eddie till I can’t walk. I want to feel you both cum inside me and make me yours. 

I love you to…so much… 

I hate to ask this after everything but Derek would like to film you guys for his project. I’ll be there to so you won’t be alone with him and I can use the footage when I start working on my graduation project later down the line. 

After everything, if you don’t want to I completely understand. 

I’ll call you both tomorrow. 

-Y/N

##########################

May 1997

Please, 

I’m so sorry! The prison said you aren’t allow visits for the next month after what happened and you aren’t taking my calls. 

I didn’t know those were the questions he was going to ask you, I swear. 

After the stupid bullshit he pulled, I broke up with him and kicked him out of our apartment. 

I know you both are innocent and I don’t feel the same way he does. 

I love you so much. 

-Y/N

################

May 1997,

Don’t break up with him. He’s right. We’re fucking criminals and—

Y/N,

Eddie is still upset but we do believe that you didn’t know he was going to blind side us. We just needed some time to compose ourselves. The questions Derek asked about those kids, Nancy, and then seeing him kissing you when we walked in just fucking… It was too much. 

Add in the fact that he made some points, you know?

By the time, we get out of here we’ll be in our late 40’s essentially starting over. It’s going to be so hard for us to get a job and other things like a house or a car. People will always look down on us for something we didn’t do but they believe we did. 

You’re going to be this badass attorney with men your age groveling at your high heeled feet to give you the world. 

We’re scared about dragging you down with us. You deserve the world, baby girl.

Just give us a bit more time, ok? During this time, I want you to think about if being with us is the life you really want. Really think about it, Y/N. 

We love you to… no matter what.

--Steve & Eddie

###########################

August 1997

Eddie & Steve, 

I’m sitting in my first class this semester and I am already exhausted. I started my new job at The Hideout and I left at like 3am. I got some good tips though so that will help with tuition. I can also send you guys anything if you need something. 

I heard your appeal was denied again. 

I’m so sorry.

With cases like yours, it’s so hard to get those pushed through and approved. 

I’m thinking about you two every minute. When I crashed, I kept wishing I had your arms around me. 

I’ll call you tonight before my shift. 

I love you!

-Y/N

########################

August 1997, 

Baby, 

Yeah, we’re kind of over it now. After so many denials, you just kind of give up trying. It was like that with my dad and his case. Then again he was just a repeat offender and I’m a murderer so.

You didn’t tell us you were working at The Hideout. I used to play my guitar there with my band when I thought I would be a rockstar. I’m not gonna be anything now.

I’m sorry, sweetheart. I guess we’re just a bit low right now. 

I wish we could be there with you to. I want to fall asleep to your voice talking to me about everything. I could listen to you talk for hours, babe. 

Don’t overwork yourself. 

Love you,

--Eddie 

Honey, 

You never have to worry about sending us anything in here. We make enough money and then Wayne gives Eddie some to get by. 

My mom was there at our appeal. It was nice seeing her face again after all this time even though she didn’t talk to me or stick around to meet with me at the prison. 

I imagine my father didn’t know she was there. 

I agree with Munson, don’t over work yourself. 

We miss you. 

--Steve

######################

October 1997,

Y/N, 

We didn’t mean to scare you, baby, when you came to visit. We just… you were supposed to come visit us last week and you didn’t. You don’t answer when we call. 

We get worried. 

Please, sweetheart, answer the phone so we can talk. 

We love you, pretty girl. 

--Eddie

#######################

October 1997,

FUCK YOU! 

You don’t get to treat me the way you did when I took time out of my day to come to see you! Steve, you have no right shouting at me and degrading me in front of all your cell block friends. Eddie, you don’t get to grab my wrist and command that I “Lower my voice” when you both are sitting there talking down to me. 

The three of us know you weren’t worried about me but fucking jealous I’ve been brushing you off for someone else! 

I have shown you both nothing but respect and opened my heart to you from day one!

I’m sorry your both in the situation you are in. I genuinely am but I have given you no reason to think I’d ever hurt you by fucking cheating on you. 

I wouldn’t put my career and heart on the line like I have just to fucking throw it away that way. 

--Y/N

######################

October 1997

Little girl, 

I know you get off on being a bad girl but we swear to God, Y/N. You don’t get to talk to us the way you did during our visit. We understand that you have a busy life but that doesn’t give you the right to not show up or not answer the phone when you say you will. 

We may be convicts but we still have feelings. 

Telling us to “fuck off” or saying that bratty shit you said like “I’m sorry I’m busy” is not ok. 

Respect is earned. 

Let’s also not forget, Y/N, that you cheated on your boyfriend with us. It’s not farfetched for us to think you may spread your legs for more tips at the bar you work at. 

Don’t play this game with us, princess. You won’t win. 

Eddie & Steve

#########################

October 1997

Edward Munson & Steven Harrington, 

I always win and I have more self-respect than you both seem to think I do. 

We’re done. 

--Y/N

#########################

October 1997

Ed and Stev, 

I hate you sooooooo much. I fell in love wit you and did things with u I’ve never done with ANYONE! Except fucking obviously : ). I never did get to feel those “big cocks” streting tearing me open. Why is that? Oh yeah…because youre in jail!

I was willing to wait bcause I loved you. I didn’t care if you’d be 40 someting when you got out. You will NEVER find someone like me again. 

I’ll move on though. Always do.

Hey check out this cute boy I met. I took a picture of him sucking my neck. I’m not drunk enough to send a video but you can use your imagination. 

You’re good at that especially when u r imagining me cheating on you with men like him. 

Assholes…

--Y/N

######################

October 30th, 1997

Trick or treat, little girl.

See you tonight. 

--Steve & Eddie

##########

Donate to me

@nailbatanddungeon @dashingdeb16 @hardladyheart @thwippyparker @micheledawn1975 @utterlyinsanity

[samuelsdean]

I Don't Mind If It's You

pairing: spencer reid x reader

summary: maybe styling spencer’s hair should be an everyday thing for both of you.

genre: fluff

word count: 1081

author's notes: i missed spencer's long hair so i decided to write a self-indulging fic about playing with his hair.

SPENCER HAS ALWAYS FOREGONE STYLING HIS HAIR IN THE MORNINGS. He always thought as long as he could just flick the strands of hair behind his ear, he was good to go. And besides, he had a hair tie with him. He could just simply tie it back—no more pesky hair in his line of sight.

He has always foregone styling his hair in the mornings until he met you. While he was big on practicality & “Hairstyling is a waste of time”!” You were the exact opposite. 

It’s quite a funny thing to think about. Spencer, a certified germaphobe, was uncaring about how his hair looked, whether it was kept well today or it looked like a bird’s nest the next. And then, there’s you. You’re not a germaphobe though you pride yourself as a chic woman. Not a law enforcement job could stop you from looking like you came straight out of a magazine.

You always found the time to make sure your hair looked pretty and presentable before heading to work. In your free time—quite rare for FBI agents—you liked to read magazines for trendy new styles to try or watch videos online for tutorials.

And today was definitely your lucky day. No case. Everyone is off for the holidays.

Unfortunately, that’s where your luck ended.

You got injured during your last case. Your arm is in a cast, unable to move it around like you wanted it to. Fortunately, your hand was still good & thankfully, uninjured, unlike the rest of your arm. So, although you were free to lounge around your home, you couldn’t try that one hairstyle you found in one of those Cosmopolitan articles.

Until a genius idea came to you like a light bulb turning on.

“Hey, Spence?”

You asked your boyfriend, who was busy skimming through what seemed like his third or fourth book of the day.

He’s so cute when he’s all focused like this, you thought. 

He hummed in response, still couldn’t tear his eyes away from the pages.

“I have a favor to ask you.”

This made Spencer look up from what he was reading, staring at you questioningly. You were the type of person who never asked for help or favors—unless needed. You often disagreed with him because he would prefer it if you told him whatever problem you had. Although he was a genius and could help with you, he knew lending an ear to someone was already a big help. 

"You know I can't move my arm around, right?" You asked him, to which he nodded in agreement. 

"Yeah, is it itchy?” He asked, about to go off on one of his notable tangents. “It takes around six to eight weeks for broken bones in casts to heal. Also, around that time, the injured area starts to itch.”

You nodded fondly at the man, not minding a little bit that he went off-topic. You love listening to his mini-lectures—not only do you learn something new, but you’d also hear the soft tone of his voice. One thing about Spencer is he had a pretty voice. You could listen to him talk for hours.

“There are five main reasons why your casts itch—nerves, trapped moisture, immune response, dead skin cells, and body hair.” Spencer continued tattling. “Nerves cause itchiness because the nerve endings in the skin may fire as the cast begins to harden and dry, sending itch-inducing signals to the brain. As for the itchiness being an immune response, it ensues when the body perceives the plaster of Paris or fiberglass as an outside invader. Histamines may be released. Itching, redness, and swelling can be brought on by released histamine.” 

With his excitement to share facts about how broken bones heal, you couldn’t help but laugh at how dorky but adorable your boyfriend was, which made him scrunch his nose.

“I’m rambling, aren’t I?”

“You are, but I don’t mind. I like it.”

At this, Spencer’s ears started turning pink, making you chuckle some more. He scratched the back of his neck in shyness as you took it as a clue to tell him what you needed from him.

“My arm isn’t itchy, babe,” you began, “What I need from you is your hair.”

“My what?” 

“Your hair.” 

It was your turn to get shy. You knew Spencer wasn’t a big fan of having his hair messed with. It’s not that he hates it. He just doesn’t like messing with it that much—minus the occasional flicking behind his ear and simply tying it back when it gets irritating.

“I—um,” you explained further, trying to fight against the embarrassment you were feeling. This was your boyfriend you’re talking to!  “I saw this cute new hairstyle online and I wanted to try it but you know, with the broken arm and all…” You trailed off.

“Oh.”

“Yeah, oh.” You chuckled humorlessly, beyond embarrassed at this point.

This was such a bad idea. Why did you even bring it up? You were about to start berating yourself, ready to hop onto the next train and create a new identity for yourself, when you noticed Spencer shuffling towards you, sitting on the floor between your legs.

“You want me to style your hair?” You asked incredulously, still can’t believe Spencer would let you play with his hair.

“Of course.” He replied as if it was the most obvious thing in the world 

Like it was an everyday thing for anyone—you—to do his hair.

“I don’t mind my hair being played with if it’s you.”

At that, you blushed as you started combing through his soft curls with your fingers. Spencer merely smiled softly at the gesture and closed his eyes.

“Y/N?” Spencer asked quietly.

“Yeah?” You asked back as you started braiding his hair. “What is it, Spence?”

“I love you.” He muttered. “I may not like it when people touch my hair out of nowhere. But if it’s you, I don’t mind having you do it for the rest of my life.”

You gasped at his sudden confession and were about to say those three words back when you felt it.

Spencer planted a kiss on your injured arm and pulled your other one down, so he could be face-to-face with you. And before you knew it, his lips brushed against yours, eyelashes fluttering against your cheeks.

Maybe styling Spencer’s hair should be an everyday thing for both of you.

[pynkhues]

Anything particularly interesting said during the q&a?

Lots actually! It was a really good Q&A.

Michael (creator) talked quite a bit about the original premise for the show being about a lavender marriage between a nurse (Helen) and a reporter (Dale), and while their characterisations haven't changed tremendously, the show itself has, and putting Helen in the newsroom changed a lot of things.

He pitched the show to Jo Werner about 8 years ago, and Emma Freeman was immediately on board as director, so they really got to grow the show together as the creative team has been consistent since then. It means they're all really proud of it.

One of the major changes they made during development was about brining in the actual archive news footage and structuring it around those events, which was a big shift and a huge ask of their writers, but it's paid off.

Bringing in the cast though added another layer to creative collaboration, and especially in s3, all the cast, especially Anna and Sam got to do quite a bit of improvising.

Michelle Lim Davidson, who plays Noelene (and is s t u n n i n g in person, omg) was also brought into the writers room each season to help really root Noelene in her Korean-Australian heritage, and she said s3 feels like a culmination of that and will be an important part of the season. She got very emotional about it and said really beautiful things about what Noelene has meant to her and the pride she has in representing Korean-Australian women, and Asian-Australian women on TV. Also! Michael kept hyping her up as a playwright, and I googled when I got home and her writing debut is on at Griffin Theatre in June, so Sydney folks should get on that!

It seems to be a Noelene-and-Rob-figuring-stuff-out heavy season, and I am delighted by that, because I have a huge soft spot for them.

The scene where Noelene gives birth has made Jo cry every time she's seen it (which Michael estimates is about 40 times haha) and they're all really proud of it as a scene.

Stephen Peacocke had a very hilarious tangent here about Rob's arc, and talked a bit about Australian football and the VFL and stepping into that as a Sydney actor, but also enjoying playing a character who just stays out of the fray (and this season being about realising that he loves that his wife is in it and wants to support her).

Also a Helen-tackling-her-mental-health heavy season, and Anna and Michael literally went to therapy together with her in character to figure out how to start writing Helen in therapy (amazing).

There's a big confrontational scene between Helen and Dale late in the season that involves this, and the way they shot it meant Michael and Emma had to hide in a pantry together lmao. It also meant Anna and Sam got to do quite a bit of improv because none of them could see each other.

Sam said that when he started, both Michael and Emma told him the show doesn't work if Helen and Dale aren't in love with each other, even if it's a type of being in love that we're not used to, and that's basically the emotional root of their relationship and the show.

Michael reiterated a couple of times that the show is a tragedy (RIP us), which particularly came up with a question about Gerry. Emma had to convince Michael of the last shot of Gerry, but now he really loves it, because he wants to tear Dale down for betraying him, but sees him and realises Dale's a broken man.

They were asked a bit about what news stories they'd adapt if it was set in modern times, and the general consensus was that there were too many (Sam said he's not really a 'news' guy lmao), but Michael said COVID and Trump, and Sam said Dale would probably end up on Fox News which was the no. 1 most heartbreaking thing he could say, haha.

They were asked if they could play any other role on the show, who would they pick, and Stephen picked Dennis, and both Michelle and Sam picked Lindsay, which is hilarious.

(Emma interjected there with the fact that Lindsay is the character they get the most feedback on, mostly in the sense of omg, I've worked for a guy exactly like that).

Then they were asked if they took anything from set - Emma had taken Dale and Helen's business cards, and Sam didn't even realise they had business cards and seemed lowkey jealous about not getting them, haha, Stephen had a pair of trackies (sweat pants, for Americans), Michelle had nothing because Noelene loves knick-knacks and Michelle hates them, and Sam apparently has stolen or been gifted half the set - he was gifted Dale's 80s TV for his birthday, and he's kept Dale's computer, among other technology, apparently, haha, his wig, and a pair of high waisted blue jeans that were custom-made for him by the costume designer and feature in the finale, which I am now very much looking forward to seeing, haha.

That's all I can remember right now, I'm sure more will come to me in the morning!

[i-like-forcefem]

This might be a tad heavy but after that last ask, like

God, so much content that explores gender in an even slightly fantasy/sexual way is just. Sooo cis/het-norminative. A guy being feminine is his failure to be appropriately masculine, a girl being masculine is her running away from her obligation to femininity. Add bdsm elements and it’s just endless harassment and bullying of people who want to explore gender spectrum, played for fap material.

And then blogs like yours that mix in some bdsm elements but are run by people who can do and will say “it’s not a failure to want to be feminine. We make fantasies about forcefully turning boys into girls because fantasies are fun and we want to cater to trans girls who just want someone to do their transition for them. Ultimately your gender is what you want it to be and these fantasies are expressly for people who want to fantasize about being in the fictional scenarios because they’re also people who exist and deserve respect.”

Is it any wonder you guys make me question me gender so much

Mhm! We’re filling a very important gap in the forcefem market here!

(Went on a bit of a tangent here so a read more was added as buffer, tldr: degrading forcefem is my villain origin story, we need more love)

Sissy-stuff is fine, I find it hot even!

But it’s so degrading, dehumanising, devoid of any love or real empathy

The notion that you truly want to be a girl, there is something wrong with you

That you’re a broken, lesser man, and nothing you can do will change that

And that’s silly!!!

If you make a habit out of looking at blogs like this, chances are: You’re already a girl!

And that’s lovely!

But the degrading elements take that desire for attention, plausible deniability and turn it against you

Turn into something that makes you feel lesser

And being lesser is hot don’t get me wrong

But after you take off the panty gag, after the skimpy skirt now soaked in cum comes off and you’re only left in the chastity cage you’re “supposed” to wear

Well it’s already really easy to see yourself as a freak, aftercare is one of the most important things in kink, and degrading forcefem not only makes it absasnt, but it even makes a habit out of never ending the scenario!

You’re always supposed to wear a cage

You always have desires for feminine clothes, not because you’re a girl, but because you’re some sick frak of a man who needs to be trained to be a sissy and finally be of use to someone

And that’s not true!!!

Degrading forcefem is hot, but it seeps into your entire life, makes a core part of your identity how you are less

And on of my missions is to say that Gender Euphoria is the hottest thing in the world

That’s why forcefem attracts me!

I’m not even that into it

But the plausible deniability, the excuse to wear skirts, the fantasising about getting a big sis who knows how good you look in skirts, and we can’t waste that potential can we?

Forcefem is filled with affirmation, it’s alright to be a girl!

Forcefem is a fantasy, imagine you woke up to find your body in a girl!

And as a dom Forcefem is a way to help, and love, those who won’t or can’t help themselves, which is a self indulgent fantasy as well

This is a bit of tangent, I want to be clear that there’s nothing wrong degrading forcefem, it’s hot

But it’s devoid of any love

It leaves you sitting in the bathroom after eating your own cum wondering

Am I even really a girl?

And I’d do anything to make sure that no one else has to feel that way

If you reading this is a sissy, or a “confused” man, a self proclaimed “boy”

Well I can’t stress enough: Try being a girl

I give you permission to

Change your pronouns, find a new name, wear skirts outside of kink, start E

Whatever you’d want to do

Your kink doesn’t define you

You are not broken

You are not filthy

You are more then a slut

You are a woman

(I’d assume so, at least, if you continue to read this far down a post like this, and if you try it, and it doesn’t work, well no harm done!)

A be a good girl and put on a skirt for me cutie

And look at yourself, not as a sissy, but as a woman

[apomaro-mellow]

Wrong Number 3

(2:21 am) I just realized something (2:21 am) Ur a cooking teacher (2:22 am) Who can't fry a egg (2:23 am) You're a fraud 🫵

[7:29 am] I can fry an egg just fine I just can't make the yolks runny. It's too hard to time it right. And why are you up thinking about eggs at 2 am?

(7:47 am) I was up thinking about you at 2 am

Steve felt his stomach flip as he sipped his coffee and set his belongings down in his classroom. Eddie didn't play games. He always said exactly what he was thinking. And it drew Steve wild.

(7:48 am) And about how your students might clown on you for not being able to scramble an egg

[7:49] Aww you're worried about me?

(7:49 am) Kids can be little monsters (7:50 am) Actually how old are the little monsters you teach?

[7:51] Youngest is 6 and oldest is 14. Speaking of, they'll be arriving soon so...

(7:52 am) Godspeed you academic warrior

Eddie didn't typically text so late on weeknights. Not since learning Steve was a teacher. It was just that he truly HAD been up and thinking of him. Steve drove him crazy and he thought he was doing a good job keeping a lid on it. 2 am texts were what happened when the lid got loose but Steve didn't seem put off by it.

At about half past three, Steve called him. Eddie was glad he made that leap with his first call. The sound of Steve's voice never failed to warm him through. Eddie was in the middle of collecting axes for sharpening at the end of his shift.

"What's cookin' good lookin'?", Eddie greeted as he picked up.

"Today was good. Had a really riveting conversation about meatloaf versus pate with the kids", Steve said.

"Meatloaf rocks and pate is just cold meatloaf for rich people. End of discussion."

"Well, we talked about it for like fifteen minutes. Had a real interesting tangent on forcemeats in general."

Eddie paused. "Excuse me?"

"You'd be surprised at what kids are into. This one I taught last year was really into rice-"

"I need you to backtrack just a bit. 'Forcemeat'?"

"Yeah it's-oh grow up", Steve chided while shaking his head. He had just gotten home and was taking off his work clothes for something more comfortable. He thought about what Eddie might think he'd look nice in. "Not even my 12 year olds are this childish."

There was something about the way Steve talked about his students. Like they were his actual children. The conversation continued for a few minutes more before Steve suddenly had to hang up. Eddie tried not to think much of it, but it wasn't the first time that it had happened.

Steve ended the call just as Robin came into the apartment. She narrowed her eyes at him, then looked to the phone in his hand. Steve hid it behind his back and winced at practically telling on himself.

"You're hiding something."

"No I'm not."

"And now you're lying to me."

"No I'm not!"

Robin pounced and wrestled him for the phone. It wasn't a real fight of course. Steve could've pinned her in seconds but a part of him was tired of keeping the secret. And obviously, she knew how to unlock his phone.

"Who's Eddie?", she asked, sitting on his back triumphantly.

"A guy."

"Thank you, I had no idea it could be a man's name. You've been texting him aaaaaaa llllllllllllot."

"Are you reading them!? Robin!"

"Where did you meet him?", Robin said as she got up, continuing to read through their conversations.

"I um, technically, haven't. Yet."

Robin gave him an odd look and Steve spilled everything to her. To her credit, Robin listened to the full story before throwing one of the couch pillows at him.

"Stephen Elliott Harrington! Did no one teach you stranger danger? You just kept texting him? And calling? And I saw the pictures you sent. You know he can find out where we live? What if I came home to your skinless corpse??!"

It went on for a while like that and when Robin was finished, she collapsed onto the couch. Steve sat across from her on the coffee table. He waited for her to silently process it all.

"You think he's cute?"

"What I've seen of him, yeah."

Robin sighed. "I can't believe you're turning into the guy who has a internet girlfriend."

Steve rolled his eyes but then balked when she started to read through his messages again.

"And I can't believe you haven't even started flirting yet."

"I've been flirting with him the whole time!" Maybe not the whole time but-

"You're giving him Diet Steve. Why are you holding back?"

Steve shrugged, looking sheepish now. Now Robin was rolling her eyes.

"Steve, we're getting you a date."

"But he's-"

"A virtual one. Jesus is he an axe murderer?", Robin said as she looked to one of the texts.

"No, he just works with them. Axes! Not murderers."

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

Eddie was about to sit down to a movie when his phone buzzed.

[5:17 pm] Thinking about you.

Oh. Now that was some text to get.

(5:18 pm) Oh yeah? (5:18 pm) What about me?

Steve looked to Robin. They were sitting cross-legged next to each other on his bed.

"What do I say?"

"Be honest, duh."

"If I'm honest I'm gonna talk about his hands."

Robin shook her hands at him like she wanted to wring his neck. Steve got the idea and decided to put himself out there.

[5:21 pm] Your hands. I think about them a lot actually

Eddie had not given his own hands much thought. But knowing that Steve admired them, he gave them a second look. He thought about them gripping Steve's thighs.

(5:23) You're gonna make me blush (5:24) What would you do with my hands Stevie?

Steve panicked and looked to Robin. "Are we sexting? Is he getting me to sext?"

"That's the idea, dingus. I said I was getting you a date. Now tell him what you want him to do."

"I don't know I'd....I'd want to..." Steve trailed off, looking at his phone while the fingers of his other hand brushed against his lips.

Robin stole the phone from him again and started typing. "'First...I'd suck..on them'."

"Robin!"

"Is that not what you want?"

Steve shrugged and Robin continued. "You've got me on the clock for five more minutes before I go out. You dictate, I'll type."

Steve hated how much he liked the idea. Especially when he heard the ping of Eddie's reply. "What did he say?"

Robin cleared her throat. "'Yeah? You wanna suck on them? I bet you got a beautiful mouth.' Oh he's good."

"Yeah", Steve breathed out. "Really good." He thought about Eddie sticking his fingers in and pressing down on his tongue, his rings tasting metallic and so nice.

"'I wanna choke on them'", Robin said out loud as she typed. "Is it too soon to call him Daddy?"

"What?!" That snapped Steve out of it.

"Oh come on. Tattoos, the hair, his job. He wants to be called Daddy."

"Robin don't call him Daddy."

"Pops?"

Steve took his phone from her and looked to Eddie's reply.

(5:30 pm) I'd only choke you if you were being bad (5:30 pm) Are you gonna be bad baby?

[5:31 pm] Maybe. I can be good too. So good.

(5:32 pm) Lemme call you baby wanna hear you

Steve dialed without hesitation just as Robin was leaving. Her work was done.

"Don't get murdered while I'm out!", she shouted just as Eddie picked up.

"Hey pretty baby", Eddie said.

"Hey. You said you wanted to hear me?"

"Yeah. I wanna hear you say those things with your own voice."

"Like how I wanna choke on your fingers? Among other things?"

Steve could hear Eddie let out a breath on the other end. The power he felt right now was intoxicating.

"Bet you'd look so good on your knees."

Steve hummed while pressing his fingertips to his lips. If Eddie asked, he'd suck on them. Let the wet noises fill his ears, let Eddie know how good he could be.

"Darlin' you went quiet."

"I'm thinking", Steve said, laying down on his bed. "I wanna show you, Eddie."

Eddie swallowed. This man would be the death of him. He'd nearly jerked off to just a picture of his fully clothed lower half. If he saw more...if he saw everything-

"Eddie! We've got a Code Red!"

"Jesus! Knock!"

Steve sat up quick at the shouting coming from Eddie's end. It sounded like someone had barged in.

"Eddie?"

"Sorry. Sorry Steve. I gotta handle something. Um, call you back? Please?"

"Eddie, I want to video call you."

"V..video...?"

"Yes. I wanna see you. Please."

"Yes. Yes, a thousand times-hold your horses! Uh, tomorrow? It's Saturday, so you're free, right? Can we make it a date?"

"A date", Steve nodded. "I'll see you then. I'll be thinking of you."

"And I'll be counting the seconds. 1-one thousand, 2-one thousand, 3-one th-ouch! Okay! Damn!"

Eddie hung up and Steve still had the phone to his ear, smiling. He had a video call date. He had a date with Eddie!

Shit what should he wear?

Part 5

Tag Team (CLOSED)

@anne-bennett-cosplayer @estrellami-1 @newtstabber @omletlove @ifyoudonlysurrender @rehfan @morganski-19 @corvidcantina @dragonmama76 @just-ladyme @tinyplanet95 @goodolefashionedloverboi @idoquitelikebread @kittydeadbones @manda-panda-monium @rhapsodyinalto @paintsplatteredandimperfect @keylime-green @ihavekidneys @samsoble @honorarybrit81 @swimmingbirdrunningrock @aizawa-emma @deleataecount @thesuninyaface @fromapayphone @justmeinadaze @hbyrde36 @queenie-ofthe-void @resident-gay-bitch @bestwifehaver @dangdirtydemons @ellietheasexylibrarian @perseus-notjackson @pyrohonk @holysteddie @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @mrsjellymunson @geekymagicalpotato @notaqueenakhaleesi