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#(i do love creating stuff it’s just. hard sometimes.)
prolix-yuy · 18 hours
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Hello friends! It's been way way way way WAY too long since we chatted, and to be honest I've been taking an embarrassingly long time to write this update post because godDAMN life just gets you sometimes and you go on an impromptu hiatus that gets super messy. So let's get into what's been going on and what to look forward to!
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Pedro Tax for this long-ass post.
(We're gonna get into some personal stuff, but if you're just here for what's coming up skip down to WHAT'S NEXT for the tl;dr version)
So beyond work getting hectic from January to March, which was the catalyst for everything getting wacky, I experienced a weird emotional turn that I wasn't expecting. It made me get a little introspective, which I blame some of my productivity slump on.
As I was finishing up the Bangathon entries, I noticed a sharp decline in interaction. I'm a fairly young fic writer on Tumblr, but I was a little baffled as to why stories I'd posted only a week before got a nice bit of interaction yet the newer ones were only getting half to a quarter of what I expected. For a minute I thought I had been shadowbanned (I was not) or I hadn't tagged the posts (I had) or my taglists weren't working (they were). People were already talking about interaction being lower, so I sat back and tried to go with the flow and not let it bother me. I posted Decoherence, which has a more niche audience, but I was definitely missing and wishing for some of the comments and reblogs I thought I might get.
All this led up to one of the least favorite voices in my head saying something that stuck around:
"Well, you were right not to become a writer if your motivation is this closely tied to feedback."
If you're new here or I haven't talked about it much recently, I initially was planning to be a writer. Went to school for it and everything. While I was there I felt like I hadn't found the stories I wanted to tell yet. My colleagues were developing in their niches and writing "the great American novel" and I didn't feel like I fit in. My stories had a lukewarm reception, and I never felt like anyone was excited about anything I was trying to say. So I wrote myself into burnout by the time I graduated with not much to show for it. I ended up doing a career switch, which I love to this day, but I stopped writing for almost 10 years.
Coming to Tumblr, I felt that spark of excitement writing again, and some of that was definitely due to people commenting and being excited or interested in the stories I was sharing. That truly revived something in me I thought was long gone, and reflecting back on the last two years that I've been sharing stories with this community makes me wildly emotional. I didn't know how much I missed of the life I left behind, and how much joy it brought me to share stories again.
Which is why it was SUPREMELY FRUSTRATING to have that shitty little voice pulverize my productivity and excitement over something as silly as interaction. But I'm sure most of you know how hard it is to get that voice out of your head. I worked to write things I found fun and less stressful than the series I already felt bad for not updating. And while I still love those stories, it felt like I was pulling them from an inauthentic place and finishing them wasn't as satisfying as I'd hoped.
Thus the hiatus! I stopped writing and turned my attentions to consuming and creating in other ways. I watched some shows I'd been meaning to catch up on, started planning to buy a house, worked my butt off at the day job. And I was starting to feel like inspiration was coming back. I didn't want to spook it so I took my time and promised myself I was going to start small and not stress about getting stories out for a bit.
Top that off with some medical surprises, an upcoming surgery, and a little re-evaluation of life moving forward and things have been wild. But I've been missing the daily joy I get from being part of this fandom, and I'm getting back into being here more because I miss you guys! AND! I have stories I want to share and fun to be had. So let's shake off all the heavy shit and get to the fun stuff!
WHAT'S NEXT!
The big thing I'm getting ready to post (after teasing it for so long) is the 2024 Bangathon! This one is different from last year's because instead of requesting stories from me, the Bangathon is open to anyone who wants to participate! There will be a randomizer to play with, and some fun bonuses for those who participate. The announcement will be coming out soon, stay tuned!
As for fics, here are some updates on what's in my WIPs:
Series:
I Think of You: I spent some time rewatching Mando for the newest installment, and I've finally gotten the thread of where to go next thought out. It's been a long time coming so this one's gonna be BEEFY to make up for it.
SW!Frankie: I am crushed to realize it's been over a year since I posted any SW!Frankie! I've got a new story about him and Ms J moving in together I need to finish, then some more asks that are getting into new story arcs I'm excited to share!
Best Laid Plans: Dieter and Murch's first date is bouncing around in my head and I NEED to get it on paper. There's much fun to be had, and I've been binge listening to my playlist for them to get into the headspace.
Midnight Alley: I got all up in my own head about continuing the story with these two and lost a little steam, so I'm going to ease off my "big plans" and start smaller with some oneshots instead. I think it'll help me find out where I want this story to go.
One Shots in Progress:
Decoherence Follow-Up
Incubus!Dieter Ask
You know, laying it out like that makes it feel much more manageable than my brain was telling me! I'm also planning to prioritize more fic reading while I'm getting these updates in ship-shape. Reading your stories always helps get my creative juices flowing, and there are so many good ones lingering in my TBR list that I need to devour.
This has been a rollercoaster of emotions, so thank you for coming on the ride with me. I'm excited to bring more of myself back to Tumblr and have fun with all of you again! To many more stories!
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translaytonblr · 2 years
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my rinkydink splat drawings of Him (ft. apprentice number 1)... this shit is so hard to draw on and yet so worth it. yes i know the squid/octo eyeliner is missing i forgot okay
[Image ID 1: A black and white drawing on the splatoon 3 post feature of hershel layton with octoling features holding a finger up and smiling. The caption next to him says "Every puzzle is a fun puzzle!". /.End ID.]
[Image ID 2: A black and white drawing on the splatoon 3 post feature of Hershel Layton and Luke Triton with slight inkling features smiling at the camera. There are large jigsaw puzzle pieces and exclamation points patterned around them. /.End ID.]
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wp-blaze · 1 day
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First Lie Wins by Ashley Elston
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Evie Porter has everything a nice, Southern girl could want: a perfect, doting boyfriend, a house with a white picket fence and a garden, a fancy group of friends. The only catch: Evie Porter doesn’t exist. Evie can’t make any mistakes, because the one thing she’s worked her entire life to keep clean, the one identity she could always go back to—her real identity—just walked right into this town.
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steakout-05 · 2 months
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ok as an artist i personally find traditional painting to be. really really annoying. like. i do not have the patience for it and i just find it to be really frustrating to set up and actually do and i end up not liking the results. i find that there's little room for mistakes and trying to fix them usually ends up with me making 50 other ones, paints can be so inconsistent and having to rely on availability and certain brands to continue making the paint is really inconvenient, not to mention expensive. spending a bunch of time trying to mix the right shade of paint, only for it to go down a completely different shade of colour and not being able to do anything about it is so frustrating as someone who likes consistency and having things just, y'know, not change colour as soon as it dries. plus, they all use different chemicals and can go off really easily or change textures and i am just not ok with having all my materials having an expiration date like food. lead and graphite pencils just don't do that and they can last for years, they're more reliable. every paint is drastically different and trying to find the right one is not only time consuming but, again, expensive, and i don't even see the point in experimenting when most of my materials end up not even getting used if i don't like using them. plus, i'm just.... really impatient. waiting for paint to dry sucks and is why i much prefer digital or just drawing something because i don't need to wait for anything, it just works. and then when i do want to take my time and work slowly for a better result, it dries too fast. it's kinda hellish trying to balance that time, especially considering how inconsistent paints are.
i like to use guidelines when doing art and i find painting straight onto a canvas to be really tricky because there's a lack of direction for me to actually paint. i'm at a complete loss at what to do when i pick up a brush because i can't map it out first without risking screwing up the paint. there's just so many things to keep track of and so much wet paint to avoid and i just do not have the mind for it. putting colours on a canvas and praying that it works just isn't it for me and requires a discipline that i just don't wanna involve myself with. painting is also just like... really exhausting and kinda painful. i got some pretty bad back issues and my arms tire and get sore easily and quickly when i'm standing in front of a canvas. it's a really physical activity for me and i just don't find something to be very fun to do at all when it's physically hurting me. i know drawing on a canvas has this issue too, which is why i prefer sketchbooks. sitting down and drawing something that doesn't break my entire spine every time i do it is much more preferrable than questioning if i should go to the doctor every time i make a brushstroke, lol
that's not to say that there's nothing i like about painting though! i can paint simple little things, and i like doing that. i like mixing colours with a palette knife and i find it fun and even a little relaxing. i painted some cute little chibi cardboard cutouts of the mario brothers one time and i found that to be really fun and i think i'd like to do that again! but apart from that, i just do not have the patience for it. i love the look of traditional paintings and i find many to be really beautiful, but i could never get into actually doing it myself because i hate the process. i'm content with just sketching and doing digital stuff because that's more fun to me and less stressful of a process to do. it's fun, it allows for more mistakes, it's easier to build up layers of shading and lines, not to mention using building up a figure with guidelines is super helpful with visualising what i want it to look like, and i can just erase something if i don't want it there or want to change something. it just makes sense to me.
tl;dr i dont like painting because it's inconsistent, expensive, time-consuming, directionless, frustrating and it makes my back hurt really bad. i'll just stick to drawing stuff :)
#vent#artist vent#i hate painting#i hate it so much and i just cannot understand it nor do i have the patience for it#i seriously had a crack at it and i just find it to be so annoying#there's so much preparation and i'd much prefer just whipping out a pencil and eraser and scribbling something down#to be fair though i do enjoy other art mediums that require more preparation#i find crafts to be fun and i really like working with air dry clay#using clay is just creating a little creature and i really quite like it a lot#making little cardboard guys is fun if not a bit tricky sometimes because my hands are so big compared to the tiny bits of carboard im usin#but it's very fun and cardboard is easy to get#clay is not so easy to get but you can get a lot of it and make many things with it#the only things i really dont like about clay is fingerprints and the fear of having your art literally explode when you fire it up#but other than that? fun!#painting? not fun!#paint is so messy and i don't like having goopy stuff getting stuck on me and all over my fingers all the time funnily enough#if i bump into something (which is very likely for me because i am clumsy) then oouuguh there goes all the paint its everywhere now#oh my god you know what i hate the most. i hate oil paints. i hate them so much.#the smell gives me bad headaches and makes me feel faint and it's hard to clean and dispose of and it's just more chemicals to deal with#it's just acrylic but more annoying#i don't think it's edible either which is. frustrating#it's also harder to clean out if you get stained with it (which is very likely because paint is messy)#i just dislike oil materials in general. they smell weird and they do not wash off. i still have oil pastel stains on one of my favourite-#-shirts despite the fact that it has been washed multiple times. and it took several days and so much fucking scrubbing to get-#-it out of my nails and off my hands completely. actual hellscape.#i know graphite and lead pencils would never betray me like this#pencils are so reliable and i love them <3#pencils and drawing equipment in general are just more reliable and don't expire or develop inconsistent textures (except erasers for some-#-reason) and they don't! hurt! my! back!#like i'm over here needing to do the riker maneuver to sit down after i paint my back hurts so bad
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transphilza · 2 years
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tis missin techno hours it seems
#cw grief#vent in tags#man i started watching breakin bad for the first time recently w my gf and like great show#but boy was i not prepared for all the cancer stuff. we had to stop watching one night because of how hard it was for me to watch#its just so hard to think about him going through that. like obviously#thats why the dedication by the sfa still hurts to even think about#and thinking about it all it makes sense to me why he never told us how bad it really was#i was. already so so worried about him all the time especially those last few months#even though he never gave us any reason to believe it was getting worse or anythin like that#so i cant imagine how badly id have been worrying if id known the extent of it all back then#and im grateful in a way for it. cause it gave me the chance during that last year we had him to really just love and appreciate#i just watched and rewatched vods and videos and i was so happy and so grateful to have him around.. im still grateful. cause hes not gone#i think he wanted it to be like that? i think he didnt want anyone mourning him before he left#dunno im just missing him and thinking of him as i often do. its just one of those Its All Painfully Real Lol moments#i sometimes have legitimate fleeting thoughts where im like. so. im gonna wake up tomorrow and someones gonna have created a cure for death#and hes gonna be back right. or like. for half a second my brain goes Cool so when does he come back?#its real strange#i think about his friends and family alot i find myself wondering if it hurts so bad for me then how are they even getting by?#but grief is always grief and grieving people are grieving people so maybe we arent as different as i think#yknow#whenever theres a meetup or something like that theres always this awful ache. this ringing in my ears#and it says. like. christ this is hard to type out.#it says ‘techno never got to do this’… or ‘sbi never got to do this’…#and its not a sentiment of jealousy or anger or even envy…. just grief#it’s just pure pure grief it’s just loss and it makes the whole world feel hollow#but i suppose that’s just the world without him.? everything echoes louder than it should#it seriously makes me feel sick when i think about that. augh. last hope we all had for an sbi meetup at vidcon#and how phil said they asked but techno. said he wouldnt make it that long basically. i think about that too much#i wont ever remember that vidcon as anything but the last few days of bliss before we found out#gonna rewatch some of his videos and sleep now. hearing his voice always makes me smile ❤️ goodnight
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salsadifragola · 2 years
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theghostofashton · 2 months
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#i keep thinking about that post from yesterday abt like someone using a ratio of 1 kudos to 10 hits to decide if a fic is worth trying#the notes are full of people criticizing that method (rightfully)#but i also think there's something to be said about the critiques writers get for caring about stats#yet at the same time people admitting shit like this#like how can you scoff at writers for being upset their fics have low hits or kudos or whatever#if that is how people decide what fics are 'worthy of their time'#as someone who for a period of time had such an unhealthy relationship with stats#it really is just such a vicious cycle like you always want more and you keep increasing the number in your head#you're aiming for a certain number regularly until that number becomes consistent and then you want more#it just never stops and you find yourself focused more on that than anything else#there was a point where i was writing whatever i could rushing stuff out in like an hour because i was so desperate for comments#i'm so glad to have let that mindset go but like#if we want to let it go entirely as fic writers readers need to also not be saying shit like this#if you don't want stats to matter stop insisting that they do#there is genuinely so much that goes into why certain fics get more popular and others don't#having so much to do with what's going on in the fandom or what happened in the media or what the fic is about#it's variable and inconsistent as fuck and that's why tying your self worth to it is guaranteed to be upsetting#sometimes just the way people go in on fic writers for......daring to want people to read stuff we worked hard on is just so. beyond words#it is natural and normal to want attention on something you've created when you share it publicly. there is nothing wrong w that#idk idk what my point is here just. be kind to fic authors#read fics with 'low stats'#read things that look interesting remember every person posting fic is just someone who loves the thing they're writing about#so much that they wanted to share it with you#don't lose sight of that#neha rambles
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ecoamerica · 1 month
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Watch the 2024 American Climate Leadership Awards for High School Students now: https://youtu.be/5C-bb9PoRLc
The recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by student climate leaders! Join Aishah-Nyeta Brown & Jerome Foster II and be inspired by student climate leaders as we recognize the High School Student finalists. Watch now to find out which student received the $25,000 grand prize and top recognition!
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heytheredelulu · 2 months
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Little Bookworm 18+
Bucky Barnes x Reader
Word Count: 2.3k
Content Warnings: unprotected sex (p-in-v), rough sex, dirty talk, size kink, dubcon kink (as long as Bucky can keep a straight face), tummy bulge, language, a good ole coochie slap (once), cum play, a little fluff, some aftercare
Your boyfriend can’t think of anything more adorable than watching you read. One night while you’re in the shower he picks up the book you left on the nightstand: “Haunting Adeline by H.D. Carlton” and thumbs through it, very quickly realizing just what kind of books his sweet little bookworm is really into.
Inspired by my IRL husband’s reaction to my smutty reads.
Note: I don’t own any characters or works referenced in this oneshot and shout out to H.D. Carlton for creating Zade Meadows and giving us the house of mirrors chapter that’s been living rent free in both me and @lilacka’s head for over a year.
Bucky absolutely loved to watch you read.
The subtle way your expressions changed as your eyes would glide across the pages made his heart swell with admiration.
He found himself entranced with your concentration, your eyebrows knitting together in thought, your lips quirking up into a smile and even the soft laughter that would sometimes escape you as you delved deep into the world you held in your hands.
He was always more than happy to accompany you to the bookstore, leaning against the shelves and observing you as you thumbed through new titles, stacking your choices in his strong arms before darting down the next aisle to browse further.
He looked forward to the evenings where he could lay his head comfortably in your lap, his arm draped across your thighs as you worked your fingers lazily through his hair while you read quietly above him.
Tonight he lay in bed with his hands folded behind his head, listening to the gentle sound of the shower from the bathroom as you bathed when his gaze fell on your most recent read on the nightstand. The cover was dark with a skull and roses, something about a ‘Haunting’ and an absurd amount of sticky notes jutted out from the pages. His curiosity overtook him and he sat up, picking it up and turning it over in his hands. He thumbed through it carefully before letting it fall open to one of the tagged pages, his eyes scanning the text and widening slightly at the content.
He flipped to another tab, quickly reading through the passage, his breath quickening as he took in the words.
“If I catch you, I fuck you.”
Jesus Christ.
The bathroom door creaked open and he slowly lifted his gaze up to you.
Your damp body wrapped in a towel with your wet hair against your neck and shoulders did absolutely nothing to combat the heat that was already rising within him at what he’d just read.
Your eyes connect for a beat before you glance down to notice the book in his hand, opened to one of your tagged pages.
It was hard to discern if the flush across your cheeks was remnant of the heat of the shower or from the slight embarrassment of feeling caught by your boyfriend discovering the absolute filth you’d been reading.
He raises a brow at you, lifting the book and tapping on the open passage.
“If I catch you, I fuck you?” He asks, tilting his head curiously. “Really?”
You huff and roll your eyes, stepping forward and reaching to snatch the book from his hands but he’s quicker, snapping it shut and holding it just out of your reach.
“No, no. We’re gonna talk about this, doll.” He says, his lips curling into a smirk. “This is what you’ve been reading?”
You shift from foot to foot.
“Sometimes.” You reply with a weak shrug.
He turns the book over in his hands again and idly runs his palm back and forth against all the flags poking out from between the pages. “And do you.. like this stuff?” He asks, not looking up. “Does it turn you on?”
You swallow hard and nod despite the fact he’s not looking at you.
“Sometimes.” You repeat quietly.
“Huh.”
He purses his lips and nods thoughtfully, standing up and tossing the book onto the bed. “I guess you oughta run then.”
Your eyebrows shoot up to your hair line.
Did he just?
Is he going to?
“W-what?” You stutter out, taking a small step back as he closes in on you.
He tsks and reaches out, brushing your wet hair back off your shoulder with two fingers. “You heard me, baby.”
You open your mouth to reply but the words are lost the moment he seizes the edge of your towel in his large hand.
Your eyes connect for a brief moment before he yanks the towel free of your body and discards it on the ground, leaving you exposed, confused and incredibly aroused.
His hand settles on your breast, his thumb brushing over your nipple and sending a rush of desire straight to your core. He dips his head to nuzzle his forehead against your temple, his tongue flicking against your earlobe.
“You should probably run now.” He warns in a whisper, taking a step back to give you space for a head start.
You stare wide eyed in disbelief, your head barely able to wrap around what was happening.
“Five.” He says in a threatening tone, bringing his hand down to palm his growing erection under his sweatpants.
You’re frozen to the spot.
There’s no fucking way he’s about to do this.
“Four.”
Okay, maybe he is.
You take off at a run, reaching the bedroom door and flinging it open with him hot on your tail.
Your bare feet pound against the hardwood floor and you rush down the hall towards the staircase, making it only two steps down before his strong arm catches you around the waist and picks you up effortlessly.
You wiggle against his hold, kicking your feet and thrashing.
“You’re not very fast, you know.” He teases, tightening his grip on you, his cock straining against his sweatpants and pressing into your backside.
He carries you back into the bedroom, his arm locked around you in a vice grip and tosses you onto the bed as if you were weightless. He tugs his sweatpants down and kicks them off, his cock bobbing with every step as he stalks towards you.
He braces his palms on the bed, preparing to climb up and pin you but you scramble backwards off the bed and take off again. He pauses, his brows furrowing in confusion. “Wait, what-?” he straightens up and turns, watching as you sprint across the room and he frowns, realizing you weren’t going to let him catch you that easily.
“Damnit.” He grumbles, launching himself up over the bed.
He chases you with heavy footsteps towards the bathroom and you rush to shut the door but his hand catches it and forces it open, leaving you completely cornered with nowhere else to turn. “Shit.” You breathe out, looking around for a possible way out. He laughs, a cute and genuine laugh that is just so Bucky, completely betraying the role he was attempting to play.
You cross your arms over your bare breasts and frown. “I’m sorry.” He says, shaking his head. “I- just.. why did you run into the bathroom?” He asks, gesturing around the small room with amusement. “I don’t know!” You huff, your lips pressing into a pout. “I wasn’t thinking.”
“No, you definitely weren’t.” He agrees, swinging his foot back to kick the door shut behind him. “Guess you’re trapped, huh?”
You nod, letting your arms fall away from your breasts. “I guess I am.” You breathe out, your body thrumming with a mix of excitement and desire as your eyes trail down his toned body to land on his fully erect cock. He’s on you in an instant, grabbing your wrist and tossing you to the ground.
You fall hard on your hands and knees onto the plush bath mat, barely able to steady yourself on all fours before he’s on your back, arm hooked around your waist and sinking his cock into your wet, throbbing cunt. You arch back into him, fingers digging into the bath mat and a choked gasp catches in your throat as he pulls you flush to his pelvis, burying himself to the hilt. He snakes his free hand up your abdomen towards your chest, a trail of goosebumps following in his wake, dipping his forehead down to rest against the back of your shoulder. He palms your breast roughly, rolling your peaked nipple between his thumb and forefinger.
“Bucky..” You whisper, your head falling back.
His forearm tightens around your waist and he releases your nipple with a gentle tug, sliding his hand up to curl around your throat. You moan and wiggle your hips, desperate for him to move, but he holds you still, lifting you up with him as he leans back on his heels.
“I’ll never get tired of this.” He whispers, unhooking his arm from your waist and resting his large hand over the slight bulge in your abdomen. “That’s my cock.” He murmurs, squeezing your throat gently before grasping your jaw and tilting your chin down to look at how he’s stretching you. You whimper and he moves your hand to press down on the bulge of his cock in your belly. “And this is my pussy.” He growls, delivering a slap to your aching clit before he draws his hips back and begins to thrust himself up into you at a steady pace.
A string of soft curses falls from your lips and your head drops back against the crook of his neck, your hand leaving your abdomen and reaching backwards to fist in his hair. “I didn’t realize you were such a freak, baby.” He whispers, his hand tightening around your throat. “I shoulda thumbed through one of your little books sooner.”
His free hand kneads at the flesh of your thigh and he groans, his balls slapping against your ass as he fucks up into you. “I- I-“ You stutter, unable to think straight as your head grows dizzy with pleasure. “Oh no, am I fuckin’ my baby stupid?” He asks with a grin, bringing two fingers to tease at your bottom lip. You open on instinct and he slips them into your mouth, letting out a shaky breath as you suck and swirl your tongue around the digits.
“Fuck.” He hisses, pressing his slick fingers to your clit. You gasp, your fingers curling around his wrist as he strokes your sensitive bud, pulling you closer towards your impending orgasm.
“You gonna come, little bird?” He whispers, trying to reference your book and quickening his fingers against your clit. “It’s ‘little mouse’.” You correct, your lips quirking up into a smirk at his admirable attempt. “Whatever.” He hisses, pinching your clit between his fingers and sending a jolt of white-hot pleasure through your body. You choke out a strangled cry as you come, your legs trembling and back arching against him as your cunt clenches around his cock.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” He grunts, shoving you forward to the floor and falling to his knees. You scramble forward, his cock slipping from your dripping hole as you try to steady yourself in the dizzying wake of your orgasm.
“Oh no, no you don’t.” He growls, grabbing your ankle and dragging you back towards him. You lose your balance and fall flat, your breasts smashed against the cold tile as he presses his weight down on you, running his cock back and forth along your folds before thrusting back into you. “T-too much!” You whine, squirming underneath him.
“Tell me to stop.” He grunts, knowing damn well you never would. He hooks his forearm under your waist again and angles your hips upward, taking you deeper than you even thought possible.
Choked sobs of euphoria escape your throat as your cheek rests against the floor, dragging back and forth across the tile from the force at which he’s fucking into you. Your limp body shakes uncontrollably as your pussy spasms and waves of ecstacy crash over you faster than you can count them. Your orgasms explode through you like a string of firecrackers as you curse and mumble incoherently.
He pulls out abruptly, grabbing your hips and flipping you onto your back, moving to straddle your chest while he frantically fucks his fist. He comes with a shout, gasping as he paints your face with ropes of hot, sticky cum. “Fuck.” He pants, looking down at you in admiration as he brushes his thumb along your cheek, gathering up his seed.
He pinches your flushed, sticky cheeks together with his free hand. “Open.” He says softly, slipping his thumb into your mouth when you do. You suckle his thumb, greedily cleaning it with a swirl of your tongue, looking up at him through half lidded eyes. He sighs contentedly before moving off you and rising to stand, reaching into the shower to turn on the water.
“And I had just showered.” You mumble as you take the hand he offers you and pull yourself up on wobbly knees. “Don’t you dare bitch about the water bill when it comes.” You tease.
He chuckles softly and pulls you into him, holding you against his chest with one strong arm while the other reaches out to test the temperature of the water. “I won’t.” He says, stepping in first and gently helping you in after him. He wraps his arms lovingly around you and rests his chin atop your head as the warm water cascades over you both.
“Let’s clean you up, doll. It’s late and we have plans in the morning.” He says quietly, his eyes slipping closed as his hand runs idly up and down your back. You lean back and look up at him with your brows furrowed in confusion. “We don’t have plans tomorrow.”
His eyes flutter open and he grins. “The hell we don’t.” He replies, reaching for the shampoo bottle and squeezing the contents into the palm of his hand. You open your mouth to protest when he doesn’t answer your question but he simply twirls a finger, gesturing for you to turn around.
You sigh, turning your back to him and he begins to lather the shampoo in your hair, gently massaging your scalp with his fingers. “So what’re these plans?” You ask quietly after a long moment of silently enjoying his hands tenderly working through your locks. He leans forward, his broad, wet chest pressing against your back and brings his mouth to hover beside your ear.
His breath sends a shiver down your spine as he lets out a low, breathy laugh and whispers, “I’m taking you to buy more books.”
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nereidprinc3ss · 2 months
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do you believe me now?
in which fem!reader is insecure around spencer until she finally asks him to take matters into his own hands (literally)
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18+ (smut) warnings/tags: inexperienced reader, fingering, softdom!spencer my sweet sweet beloved angel, sub reader, praise, you know he talks you through it, brief mention of drinking wine, i think that's it a/n: i hope u guys like this ! slightly different dynamic than my other stuff maybe but let me know what u think!! i love feedback and i love YOU!!!
“You’re so pretty.”
It’s the first thing Spencer has said since you two landed on his couch, exhausted from one of Rossi’s extravagant soirées. It was your first of many, if Spencer’s entire team is to be believed. More nights featuring Italian food and wine you could never afford don’t sound half bad—but for now you’re drained. You barely had the energy to kick off your heels and topple into Spencer’s lap five minutes ago. The silk dress still pools over his knees and your hair still falls in curls around your face. He brushes one aside as he continues. 
“I mean—you always look beautiful. But I’ve never seen you all done up. You’re obscenely gorgeous.”
You groan awkwardly, burying your face in Spencer’s collar as your face heats. Taking compliments has never been your strong suit, especially from someone who you perceive to be so out of your league. The relationship you have with Spencer is relatively new, and sometimes you worry delicate; like one slip-up revealing the real you and he’ll go running. So far, though, he seems hellbent on proving you wrong. 
His hand finds the bare skin of your arm, passing up and down gently. “Why don’t you believe me?”
“…I do.”
It’s unconvincing. Spencer scoffs. 
“No, you don’t. You never believe me when I compliment you.”
The cadence of his voice is light enough, but it’s evident that there’s some genuine frustration there, lurking just under the surface. 
Your head lolls over his shoulder and he angles his neck to look down at you. Hair falls over his eyes, and you’d fix it if he didn’t look so damn perfect. Everything about him looks intentional, like he was designed by someone who took great pride in their work. Not at all like you—a collage of features and spare parts you guess whatever force created you had lying around. Nothing about you feels on purpose. But that’s a hard thing to explain.
“I’m sorry. I know it’s impolite. It just feels disingenuous to accept compliments like that.”
Goosebumps arise on your arm where he touches you.
“You being polite isn’t what I’m concerned about. I just wish I could make you understand that I mean it when I compliment you. You’d know if I didn’t. I’m a terrible liar.”
That earns a giggle from you. Your boyfriend smiles, sparkling eyes darting over your face like he’s trying to bottle the sound, the memory—and you realize he probably is. What a terrifying thought. You look away, abashed once more. 
“I’m a woman, Spencer. I’m not allowed to like myself. That’s the whole thing with Eve and the snake and the apple and whatever. Eternal inescapable shame.”
“Are you trying to justify your self-loathing by making it biblical? You know I’m the last person that would work on, right? Both as an agnostic-leaning-athiest and someone who thinks you’re beautiful and wonderful.”
Another groan claws its way from your throat as you slide down in embarrassment. 
“You’re killing me here, Spencer.”
“What can I do to do to make you believe me?” he murmurs, carefully brushing tangles from your hair as you now rest practically prone across his lap. The ceiling light stretches behind him, haloing him in a soft glowing crown and making everything a bit more hazy and tolerable. 
“It’s not your fight.” It’s meant to be playfully dramatic, but it hangs from your lips with a painful amount of earnestness. 
“If it’s yours, it’s mine. That’s kind of the whole point of a relationship, right? Being a team?”
His fingers are nimble and warm between yours as you interlace them, steepling and bumping them together as you speak. 
“Well, if you know so much, why are you asking me? It sounds like you know exactly what to do to make me magically love myself.”
A dangerous twitch plays at the corner of his lips as he gazes sleepily down at you. 
“Oh, I have a few ideas. But I’m asking what you’d be comfortable with.”
“Whoa!” you blurt, giggling self-consciously, covering your face with your (and inadvertently one of his) hands. “Where did that come from?”
He smiles at your response to his mildly suggestive comment. “I lose my filter when I'm tired. I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable.” 
You sigh gustily, dragging his hand down to fall over your collarbones. His fingers twitch over the delicate skin, like he’d graze it if your hand wasn’t weighing his down. 
“No, no, you didn’t make me uncomfortable, you just… surprised me. I’m really bad at talking about this kind of thing.”
“Sex?”
You yelp, slinging your arm over your face and hiding in the crook of your elbow. “AH! Don’t say it!” 
He laughs again, a little less reserved this time. 
“What? You can’t even listen to me say the word?”
“No! Too scary!”
Eventually you peek out from under your arm to find Spencer still watching you. The humor has faded from his eyes and been replaced by a kind of serene calm. He brushes a lock of hair from your shoulder. 
“Come here,” he says—a request more than a demand. With some wriggling and a bit of help, you manage to reorient yourself into a sitting position across his lap once more. His touch is warm even through the fabric of your dress when he kisses you, hand sliding over your waist before moving to trace your jaw and ending up on the back of your neck, urging you closer ever so slightly. You kiss him back without hesitation or restraint, as you delight in doing when he gives you the opportunity. What you may lack in experience and refinement, you make up for with affection and enthusiasm. He pulls away after a minute, much to your dismay, and brushes his thumb over your lips. For the first time, you think you see a hint of worry in his eyes. Guilt claws at your heart when he quietly asks, “you’re not scared of me, are you?”
“No!” You assure quickly, looping your arms around his neck. “No, it’s not you. You’re perfect and I’m sure you really mean all of the nice things you say. But I just… sometimes I worry I’ll scare you away once you realize I’m not as pretty or… good as you thought.”
“That’s impossible.”
Once more you let your head fall onto his shoulder. “You don’t know that.” 
His hand begins running up and down your back, soothing your sympathetic nervous system in a way that all the deep breaths in the world never could. 
“I know that I really, really like you. And there’s not one part of you that I don’t find genuinely beautiful. I can’t imagine not feeling that way about you.” Your eyes flutter shut and you hum against him—a non-answer, but he doesn’t push it. Minutes go by quietly, ticking later into the night as he continues mindlessly rubbing your back and watching you breathe. “Do you want me to take you home?” He finally asks after a long while. Again, you don’t respond. He smiles. “I know you’re awake.”
The corner of your lip twitches as you attempt to suppress a grin. Spencer sighs. 
“I guess if you’re already asleep you’ll just have to stay here. But it would be convenient if you’d sleepwalk to my bed so that I don’t have to carry you.”
When you begin stirring and sitting up (one eye cracked to navigate) he laughs, hands on your waist. “Would you look at that. Who knew she would be so suggestible in non-REM?” You snort as you push yourself to a standing position using Spencer’s shoulders to support yourself, and ruining the whole act. He smiles up at you like you’re something divine and lets his hands trail over your hips. 
“I sleep with my eyes open.”
“Do you often have coherent conversations in your sleep, too?”
You shrug. “I’m full of surprises.”
“I’m sure you are,” he agrees, finally standing himself. “I’m assuming you don’t want to sleep in your dress?”
“I have shorts on underneath I can wear, but a shirt would be helpful.”
“Then we’ll get you a shirt.”
———————————————
Ten minutes later you’re in Spencer’s bathroom, wearing your shorts and one of his sweatshirts (you cannot imagine Spencer in a hoodie), and wiping black sludge from your eyes with makeup remover he claims was left by a friend after a particularly festive Halloween party. Hopefully he’s telling the truth—you can think of more dubious potential origins of the eye-makeup remover in his bathroom. No toothbrush—you use your finger and a generous amount of toothpaste until the red wine stains fade. 
Spencer is fixing the pillows when you exit the bathroom. You hold up your hands which are completely obscured and then some by the thick fabric of his sweatshirt. 
“Fits like a dream,” you say. A smile tugs at his lips as he finishes his task, before raising his eyes to you. The smile promptly fades and it’s like the sun disappearing behind an oppressive gray cloud. In an instant your stomach curdles and you feel like crawling out of your skin. 
“…what?” you mumble, absolutely terrified that the thing he’d said was impossible just minutes ago has already happened. Without makeup, without a fancy dress, you’re just you, and maybe that’s not good enough.
“Uh…” He blinks, as if he’s buffering for a moment, before snapping back into action, and notably looking away from you. “It’s—it’s nothing. Do you, um—here, I tried to make it—“
“Stop. Just tell me what that was. You got all weird.”
Another pause—he looks back up at you reluctantly with a sigh. 
“I did not get all weird.”
“Yes, you did. You’re still being weird. It’s freaking me out.”
He’s utterly unreadable, which drives you fucking insane, when he eventually says, “come here.” This time, you think with a chill as you shuffle on your knees across the bed to sit in front of him, it really sounds like a demand. Spencer grabs your face in his hands, studying you intently. “I know you think I’ve finally decided you’re hideously deformed, but it’s actually just the opposite. I’m trying to figure out how to keep things polite for you.”
Realization dawns on you and the swarm of new butterflies in your stomach. The usual molten gold of his irises has been encroached upon, masked by blown pupils. Your face gets hot and your voice caves when you speak. 
“Oh.”
“Yeah, oh,” he agrees quietly. “Do you believe me now?”
And to his credit, you really do. The hot skin, the vibrating cells in every fiber of your being, the racing heart—your body knows he means it. Part of you, the more confident, more desirous part, drags you closer to him, ghosts your lips over his. He chuckles. 
“Now you’re getting brave?”
“Am I not allowed to kiss you?” you whisper, draping your arms over his shoulders. 
“You’re allowed to do whatever you want.”
The words make you shiver—the lowered, gravelly tone of his voice you’ve never heard before snaps your resolve and you lean into him, connecting your lips with a deep urgency. Spencer inhales sharply, hands wandering to your waist and bearing down firmly as you press against him. When you lean back, he follows you, insists without saying a word that you don’t stop kissing him. It sends a thrill down your spine and between your legs, which both gives you pause and eggs you on. In the end, after a very brief internal struggle, curiosity and desire win. You drop to the bed and drag him down with you—he, your willing follower, blindly searches for purchase on the plush comforter. Now he’s on top of you, legs slotted together so that his thigh is temptingly close to your core. Too shy to actually do what you want to do, you clamp your thighs around his and tilt your hips, desperate for friction. He exhales heavily, slowly pulling his lips from yours like it’s the last thing he wants to do. Fingers dig into the flesh of your hip, not enough to ache but enough to draw your attention to your movements. 
“What are you doing?” he asks, firmly, but not like you’re in trouble—it’s a probing question. He’s trying to figure out if you’re aware of the way you’re nearly riding his leg. 
“I don’t know,” you admit breathlessly. 
“You just told me you couldn’t even listen to me say the word sex,” Spencer reminds you. “You said it was too scary.”
A frustrated whine seems to catch him by surprise, and he laughs. 
“That was a long time ago. I’ve matured since then.”
“Is that what happened?” he teases. 
“Honestly, I’m just really turned on right now, please—" you cut yourself off, crashing your lips into his once more. And he almost relents. 
Almost. 
“Slow down.”
He ceases kissing you for a second time and you’re starting to really get annoyed. 
“What?” you groan. “I thought you wanted this.”
His thumbs brush over the apples of your cheeks, demanding your attention. 
“I want you. In every sense of the word. If you make a bad choice tonight and it means you don’t like me anymore tomorrow, that is the opposite of what I want. I’m not saying no. I’m just asking you to think about it for a second.”
You take a deep breath, closing your eyes and attempting to steady your mind and see beyond the thick fog of lust. What you find is a (mildly surprising) complete lack of fear. You’re not scared, like you thought you’d be; you feel utterly safe underneath him, with his hands on you and his heartbeat against your chest. This is a kind of intimacy you want to have with him. 
Your eyes open to reveal his, close enough you can see the tiny flecks of green. And so much warmth. Everything about him is warm. 
“This is what I want,” you assert. “I promise.”
His gaze flits between yours for a moment, pulling the truth from your soul like he might be able to find an imperfection there. But you mean it—and he seems satisfied. He trusts you, like you trust him. 
“Okay.”
A sigh of relief never quite finds completion before he’s kissing you again. Immediately the fire is stoked once more, the heat between your legs getting warmer when he experimentally pushes his thigh against you. You breathe into the kiss, pressing down on him and surrendering to the unconscious rhythm of your hips. He lets that go on for a minute or two until you’re so distracted that you can’t kiss him back. 
Unexpectedly he pulls away, disentangling himself from your legs. You stammer in frustration until his fingers hook under the soft material of your shorts. “Hips up.”
Wordlessly you comply, succumbing to his gentle words and touch. He bows to kiss you as he slides the fabric down unhurriedly. Once the shorts are gone, he sits up, and carefully lifts one of your legs over his lap, gaze unabashedly glued between them. 
“Eyes up here,” you try to joke, but it’s steeped in self-consciousness and your heart is pounding. He manages, stroking the inside of your knee with a thumb as he leans down again. 
“But you’re so pretty,” he murmurs, before he’s kissing you again. “Just like I knew you would be.”
You whimper when his hand skates over your stomach, lower, and lower, and—
“Tell me one more time, sweetheart.”
Your plead is just as hungry and yearning. “Please, Spencer?”
It works for him. 
When his knuckles brush over your clit, you forget to breathe. When they barely skim your entrance, collecting arousal to drag back upward, your brain malfunctions. It is not enough, maddeningly so, but when he finds a careful, introductory rhythm, it’s immediately bordering on too much, too good. 
Your stomach tenses and you are surprised by your own sighs and hesitant gasps as you try to adjust to the feeling of someone else’s hand between your legs. 
“Does that feel good?” he murmurs against your lips. 
“Mhm,” you chirp. Slow but insistent circles elicit a cry that gets caught in your throat, melting into a hum. Your eyes are closed, but you can hear the smile in Spencer’s voice. 
“You’re sensitive, huh?”
“S—sometimes.”
 He hums contemplatively. 
“Sometimes? Can you tell me about that?”
You can’t hardly think around those gentle movements of his hand, let alone speak. He touches you like you’re something delicate. It’s torturous and perfect. But you try to answer anyway, managing to keep the stammering to a minimum. 
“About what?” 
“I want to know what you think about when you touch yourself.” The smooth words in tandem with an incremental increase in pressure earn you first real moan. Timid and unpracticed, but very genuine. 
The answer comes immediately afterward; thoughtlessly and on a shuddering exhalation.
“You.”
“Yeah?” he smiles. “Good answer.”
Your eyes open fractionally to study his expression. You’d felt so much shame every time you’d imagined him in your bed late at night.
“Really?” 
“Really. And now look at you. Letting me do it for you.” As if to remind you, he speeds up the motion of his hand. On instinct you bring your fingers to your lips as you moan through a closed throat, partly to stifle the noise and partly because you don’t know what to do with the hand that’s not gripping the duvet. “Do you only touch here?” His fingers slide down to your slick entrance and your hips buck, mourning the loss of stimulation. “Or do you touch here, too?” 
You shake your head, breathing hard as he teases a finger around the soft place you’ve never really bothered to explore. “Never feels good when I try.”
“We’re gonna make it feel good, okay?”
You nod hesitantly, leaning back into the pillows when he kisses you again. 
His lips are so distracting, so intoxicating you almost forget what he’s doing until he does it. It’s a foreign sensation—not entirely pleasant or unpleasant. For a moment or two your brows furrow as you focus on the feeling, worried that maybe you’re broken just as you thought—until you feel a slight stretch and you realize he’s pushing a second finger into you now. A kiss lands on your cheek when you grab his arm with a choked gasp, and he mutters, “deep breaths,” into your ear. “I know it’s new, honey, just breathe.”
“Fuck,” you whimper as you look down, and you didn’t realize you were going to say it until it’s already passed between your lips. Pressure begins melding with the promise of pleasure, and something about watching his hand move between your legs—the tendons flexing and wrist bending as he eases into what is clearly a perfected motion—arouses you so much you moan at the sight alone. Flipping pages is all you thought that hand was meant for. It’s like a secret revealed as you watch it do something so salacious, and to you. 
A hot spark of pleasure flares deeper in you than you’ve ever felt. It catches and grows faster than you’d of thought—suddenly you can feel everything and it all feels better than you thought possible. Your jaw drops and a surprised huff of air blows a strand of your hair away. 
“Oh my god,” comes your breathy little whisper, unprepared for and intimidated by how good he’s making you feel. Filthy noises come from between your legs and you clench around his fingers. You had no idea you could make those noises. You had no idea you could get so wet. 
“Yeah, there we go.” His voice sounds a little further away now. You manage to tear your eyes away from all the action to his face. Much like you, he’s transfixed by the sight, brow furrowed and pretty lips parted in what could be concentration, or some sort of empathetic pleasure. His face has more color to it than usual and his breaths come heavier—it’s a very pleasant sight. Suddenly his fingers brush against a spot deep within you and your hips cant upward, a mewl pulled from the depths of your throat that has more control over you than you do it. Spencer’s eyes flash back to you, a grin playing at his lips. He does it again, looking right into your eyes, and you whine so pitifully your face flushes. 
“Too much?” he asks. You shake your head firmly, arching your back when he unconsciously slows down. At your response his fingers begin rutting into you again, committing to that spot inside you that makes you see stars. “Of course not. You’re gonna take whatever I give you, huh?”
“Uh-huh,” you nod. You’d do just about anything for him right at this second. Spencer holds an immense amount of power over you in this moment, and potentially in all future moments moving forward. But you trust him with it. 
“You don’t have anything to prove to me. I just want you to feel good. You’ll tell me if it’s too much, right?”
But it’s really not too much. It’s exactly right. Your verbal capacity is acutely limited right now, so you can’t exactly say it, but you lock eyes with him and whine shamelessly, hips twisting against his hand. You think he gets the message. 
Hair falls over his face and he doesn’t fix it, opting instead to alternate his gaze between your cunt and face, cursing to himself lowly. You wouldn’t want him to stop and fix his hair—what you want is this, for him to keep pushing you toward that elusive edge and to keep looking at you like you put all the stars in the sky. 
“Look at you, my pretty girl. I’m so proud of you. I know this isn’t easy. I know you were scared. Thank you for letting me do this, honey.”
It’s the unexpected tenderness of the words, perfectly misplaced in the context of the moment. It’s the devotion, the honesty in his eyes, shining through the haze of lust, which makes your stomach drop and all your muscles tense. A million thoughts jumble in your head, dizzying and thrilling and confusing, but mostly all you can think is Spencer, Spencer, Spencer. Is this how it always is? Your hands tangle in the sheets—and then all the thoughts vanish. Everything is warm and fuzzy and sparkling clean, no worries, no lingering thoughts, no self-awareness at all. It’s nirvana. It’s revelatory. It’s ridiculous that he did this all in under five minutes and you haven’t been able to do it once even with very concerted effort. 
Slowly you float back into your body, breathing hard and watching through half-lidded eyes as Spencer gently pulls his hand away. Without him you feel weirdly empty and cold, like he should have been there all along. But his touch isn’t absent for long—he runs his hand over the bridge between your hips, little finger dipping into the crease of your thigh. 
“That’s never… I’ve never done that before,” you admit, slurring your words only slightly. 
His perfect features contort into a half-frown, half-smile. 
“You’ve never had an orgasm?” You nod. His head tilts. “Really? You didn’t tell me that.”
“When would I have told you?” you laugh, finding his waist with your hand and encouraging him to settle his weight on you. He does, burying his face in your neck and exhaling heavily. 
“Well?” you ask shyly, skating your fingers over his back. “Did I do it right?”
Spencer snorts, but presses a sickeningly sweet kiss to the curve of your neck. 
“Did you like it?”
“Yes,” you admit, voice smaller than you’d have liked. He pushes himself up onto his forearms and kisses you softly. 
“Then we both did it right.”
“But…” you stare up into his warm honey eyes, searching for any bits of hidden truth you can find. He brushes a strand of hair away from your face, utterly unconcerned. “You know what I mean.” 
“I do,” he agrees, “and I’ll say this because I know otherwise you’re going to worry about it forever.” He studies your face reverently for a moment, before parting his lips to speak. The words are slow to come, like he’s trying to figure the sentence out as he goes along. “You… are going to be, problematic, for me.”
Your whisper is almost as small as you feel under his heavy gaze. “What d’you mean?” 
“I mean,” Spencer begins, voice low, “I think I liked that too much. Do you see why that’s troubling?”
The flame you thought had been quenched flickers back to life like a pilot light. Your thighs press together to alleviate a growing ache in a still sensitive area and you answer, “no,” with a small shake of your head. His thumb tenderly traces your jaw, ever-patient despite the fact that you’re obviously playing coy. 
“Because I can’t have you all the time.”
“Yes you can,” you say without hesitation, though your eyes are fluttering. “You can have me whenever you want. Right now.”
He hums, pressing a kiss to your cheek. 
“Not tonight. You’ve had enough. You’re tired.”
“I’m wide awake,” you slur, tangling a hand in his hair even as you lose the battle against your eyelids. 
He sighs good-naturedly, gently wrapping his fingers around your wrist and brushing his lips over the delicate skin. 
“You’re shockingly precocious.”
You hum. 
“You just unleashed the beast. You’re like Doctor Frankenstein.”
He chuckles, sitting up and finding your shorts. You manage to be semi-helpful, lifting your legs at appropriate junctures as he tugs your clothing back on. “And you’re a nerd.”
“I don’t need to take that from you of all people.”
“I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that,” Spencer says, and the smile in his voice makes you smile, a quarter asleep as he leans over to turn off the lamp on your side of the bed before tugging the covers over both of you. 
He pulls you close in the dark, releasing a deep sigh as you curl into him. His heartbeat is steady against your ear, his arms warm around you. You can imagine making a home for yourself here. And you don’t know if he’s thinking it, but you hope he is, as you are silently repeating to yourself with every beat of his heart;
I love you
I love you
I love you. 
-
part two
5K notes · View notes
anyroads · 2 years
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OK you know what, if we're gonna talk about Bake Off then fuck it, let's do this.
It used to be this wholesome, lovely show! We used to watch it for the bakers! And the learning! And the light banter and occasional bit of coy innuendo! What happened?
Channel 4 happened. When they bought the show they made a number of changes, most of them Not Good™️. Not just in the sense of them resulting in a lot of 😬 and 🫠 moments, but in the sense of how they changed the show's purpose, atmosphere, and brand.
Look, I know most people are just like, "whatever, it's just a baking show," and yeah, sure. But it's one of the UK's most successful TV exports, and where it once shifted the tone of reality competition to being wholesome and supportive of contestants, it's since moved towards creating tension at the contestants' cost. So aside from the fact that most people watching it signed up to watch a nice show, it has also shifted the goalposts of what that even means. And that, lovelies and gentlefolk, is some bullshit.
I decided to break my rant analysis into four main parts: theme weeks, the hosts, the judges, and the bakers. Let's get to it!
Theme Weeks:
If you watch Bake Off, you know the show's always had a specific theme for each week. The staples that come up in most seasons are:
cake
biscuit
bread
pudding/dessert
pastry
patisserie
Less common but consistent are things like caramel and chocolate week.
Then there are the fun episodes! When GBBO was on the BBC, this started out with things tea week, tarts, pies, tray bakes, basically little tangents still focused on emphasizing specific baking skills. In Series 6 (still on the BBC) they had their first nation-focused theme week with French week -- fairly innocuous given that a lot of patisserie is French, France and England share much more culture than either cares to admit [Norman Flag dot gif], and it was a nice change from watching Paul make the bakers do recipes that involved boiling things while talking about how wonderful boiled doughs are (are they, Paul? Are they?).
The show kept mixing it up with innocuous themes like advanced dough and alternative ingredients weeks, European cakes, Victorian week, batter week, and botanical week. And while it was frustrating to watch Paul Hollywood mispronounce things like the Hungarian Dobos Torta and lecture bakers on babka when he clearly knew nothing about it (or about Jewish baking in general, go off Past Me), the show's general attitude was that the judges had their own opinions, which were separate from the immutable facts around the chemistry of baking (more on this later) and shouldn't affect how bakers are judged.
After the show moved to Channel 4, the number of themed weeks increased and more of them focused on specific countries. In 6 seasons on the BBC, there were only two country-focused theme weeks, and in 5 seasons on Channel 4 there have been five. And while they've also had themes like vegan baking, roaring 20s, the 1980s, spice week, etc. the show has really started to go hard on exoticizing other cultures in outright disrespectful and racist ways. There's been Italian and Danish week, German, Japanese (it wasn't, it was East Asian week), and now Mexican week (which doesn't touch on interspersed Jewish bakes that didn't get a theme week, like versions of bagels and babka set as technical challenges that were borderline hate crimes and mansplained by a guy who has no idea how to make either and once wrote in a cookbook that challah was traditionally eaten during Passover). Each time the hosts played up the theme with racist bits and jokes that can be used as evidence in court if your case is "why should shows with scripted content have a professional writing staff."
Which touches on other issues the show has now...
The Hosts:
When GBBO was on the BBC, the show was hosted by ✨Mel Giedroyc✨ and ✨Sue Perkins✨. They encouraged the bakers! They'd hold stuff for them sometimes! They were interested in them! If a baker had a breakdown, they would start singing copyrighted material to render the footage unusable! When the show moved to Channel 4, they left, though I'm not unconvinced that Channel 4 offered them impossible to accept contracts to force them out so they could rebrand the show. They replaced them with Sandy Toksvig and Noel Fielding. Sandy was a lovely host in the vein of Mel and Sue, and she and Noel had a relatively sweet rapport, but she left a few seasons ago and was replaced by Matt Lucas.
Noel Fielding is mostly known for his quirky brand of comedy, a sort of British Zooey Deschanel who's goth from the neck up, an upperclass British gay divorcee from the neck down, and basically an early 60s Beatle re: trousers. Matt Lucas has almost definitely never watched a single episode of GBBO and his most redeeming quality is his thinly veiled contempt for Paul Hollywood.
The two treat the baking tent as their personal playground. Far from the supportive attitude of Mel and Sue, they tend to get in the bakers' way during the most stressful moments, especially when they try to do hilarious "comedy" bits (I can't not put that in quotes) like Noel's talking wooden spoon thing, or Matt talking over Noel to do time calls. During theme weeks like Japanese and Mexican week, they do culture-specific bits that are both racist ("just Juan joke" and "is Mexico a real place?") and unsurprising, given that both Matt and Noel did blackface on their respective sketch shows and absolutely could and should have known better because it was already the current fucking century.
All this to say, there's now a separation between the bakers and the hosts, as if they're on different shows. The hosts are doing their own thing and the bakers are doing GBBO. The show has gotten meaner to the bakers, and the hosts aren't there to support them anymore, they're just there to be comic relief. Because when you refocus your show on stressing the bakers the fuck out, you need a forced laugh I guess ¯\_(ツ)_/¯.
The Judges:
First of all, a sincere congratulations to Paul Hollywood who managed to squeeze I jUsT cAmE bAcK fRoM mExIcO aNd YeT sTiLL pRoNoUnCe PiCo De GaLLo As 'PiKa De KaLLa' and I aM aN eXpErT oN s'MoReS wHiCh aRe MaDe WiTh DiGeStiVe BiScUiTs AcCoRdiNg tO mE, aN eXpErT oN s'MoReS, just two in a giant pile of astoundingly wrong hot takes, into a short enough time span that they all aired within Liz Truss's term as Prime Minister. A true man of accomplishments.
In the interest of fairness, I need to preface this with a disclaimer that, due to the fact that I've been watching Bake Off for most of its run, I'm biased. Specifically, I can't stand Paul Hollywood's smarmy, classist, egomaniac ass because he's proven time and again he's more interested in looking smart than actually knowing what he's talking about. Since the show moved to Channel 4, they've changed the occasional handshake Paul would give bakers to the HoLlYwOoD hAnDsHaKe™️. It's gone from being an emphasis of someone's skill to a goal, a reward, and one that emphasizes the judges' place above the bakers.
The judges used to function as teachers, imparting their skills and insights to the bakers. When the show was on the BBC, the voiceover leading to a judging would focus on the bakers' work being finished, saying how it will now be evaluated based on their skill and how well they met the brief. The voiceovers now, on Channel 4, focus on the judging (literally saying something along the lines of, "the bakers will now be judged by Prue and Paul"). There is a clear distinction Channel 4's producers have made, to mark that the show is now about whether or not the judges approve, not whether the brief was understood and executed well. On the BBC, it was irrelevant whether the judges liked a particular flavor, as long as the bake was well-made. Now, the bakers are expected to know the judges tastes and cater to them, which is frankly bullshit. A judge doesn't have to like a flavor to know whether or not it was executed well, ie. is it carrying a bake and was it meant to etc.
The judges have been turned into a brand. Cynically, Channel 4 knows that by building them up and focusing the show more on them, they can exploit their image more for profit. In the process, they've become much more biased and their own biases have come out as well. Most recently in the flaming dumpster fire that was Mexican Week, Paul Hollywood tried to intimidate a baker by telling them he had just gotten back from Mexico (which must have been a fruitful learning trip if he couldn't even learn how to pronounce pico de gallo correctly). Where do I even start with this? Here's an amateur baker from England (the show specifically casts middle and lower middle class bakers for the most part??) who likely can't afford trips to Mexico, who lives in a country with incredibly limited access to Mexican cuisine, who is expected not only to understand the cooking and baking traditions of a completely different culture but to do so well enough to play with it and do something creative with it. On top of which, one of the judges is now using his privilege of traveling halfway around the world as some kind of leverage, as if this were a bar that any amateur British baker could clear.
Prue, meanwhile, has openly asserted her biases against cultural flavors and textures, prioritizing her own personal preferences over them, as if they were in any way relevant to the skills and knowledge necessary to execute the tasks she sets to the bakers. She has also been consistently elitist, criticizing bakers for choices they made that were clearly informed by their experiences within income brackets that are too low and foreign for Prue to comprehend. She once had a go at a baker on a Christmas special because his Christmas dinner themed bake didn't have a turkey, even though it was clear from the stories he shared of his own Christmases that his family likely couldn't afford one. "It's not really Christmas dinner without a turkey," Prue said into the camera angrily while sitting on a chair made of live orphans and telling the ghost of Christmas Future to come back when he had another museum gift shop necklace for her to round out her collection.
The show is no longer about which baker has the best skills. It's become about which mortal can appease the gods of Mount Olympus, ie. the judges.
The Bakers:
Remember when the show was about them? Channel 4 doesn't! Because this is a reality competition show, the bakers are chosen both based on their skills, as well as cast-ability. They're cast as characters, distinct from each other, from different areas, age groups, ethnicities. All of them are amateurs. All of them are middle or lower middle class. They've ranged from college students to supermarket cashiers to prison wardens to scientists.
Something I noticed when the show moved to Channel 4 is that the baker who goes home in the first week is always wildly behind the rest in skills. I have no proof of this other than my eyeballs and deductive reasoning skills, but I think that Channel 4 deliberately casts a ringer each season who they think will be an easy send-off in the first week, just to get the audience's feet wet.
Anyway, like I said, this show used to be about the bakers - about them building skills and learning, and having walked into the tent with a self-taught foundation and understanding of the processes and chemical reactions involved in baking. When the show was on the BBC, the end of each round had some (often brief) moments of tension - will they finish in time? Will they get their bakes on the plate before time is up? Did they forget to add sugar to their batter and only remember at the last minute? In the end, they usually managed to finish and we'd all breathe a sigh of relief and think, yeah! You go, Bakers Who I'm Rooting For!
Now, on Channel 4, the end of round drama has been stretched to be so much longer that they've composed extra music for it. The bakers often seem out of their depth, whether because the instructions for the technical challenge are too vague (bake a lemon meringue pie??? As if anyone in the UK under the age of 60 has had one in the last decade???), or because they were expected to bake something that required a more than a basic foundation they weren't told of. Often it seems like they just aren't given enough time, a tactic used by reality competition shows to manipulate contestants into giving the cameras more dramatic content. On top of all this, the hosts get in their way, instead of helping them plate their bakes. As has been pointed out before, when everyone fails the challenge, the real failure lies with whoever set it.
In conclusion:
The show no longer exists to teach the bakers - and the audience - skills or knowledge. It now manipulates contestants for dramatic effect and prioritizes showing conflict over wholesome content. Channel 4 sees the bakers as social media content they can churn out season after season, and don't care about them because in a few months there'll be a new batch to exploit. Meanwhile, the judges are also out of their depth, co-opting recipes from other cultures and butchering them horrendously, while the camera gives them nothing but status as they hold bakers to the expectation that they learn how to make things very much the wrong way. If you saw any of the tweets about Mexican or Japanese week, or read my post on how Paul Hollywood isn't allowed to go near babka ever again, you'll understand.
So what would fix all this? Scrap the current judges and the hosts altogether. Bring back Mel and Sue, and replace the judges with expert bakers who have a love of their craft and want to share it with others. The draw of GBBO used to be its warmth and comfort - if Channel 4 isn't going to start its own version of Master Chef For Bakers, then it needs to stop trying to find a balance of how it can insert that vibe into GBBO. It can't. That's not a thing. Stop trying.
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keypaa · 1 month
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Astrology Observations No.6
with lovely @sc0rpi0suntaurusm00n
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Saggittarius suns, moons and mercurys don't have a social filter, they say what everybody is afraid to say blunt af. Jupiter the optimist makes them confident to say what they mean, feel or think (Sun,Moon,Mercury)
If you have venus in tense aspects with neptune you need to do a reality check of your relationships now and then, because sometimes you will put the people around you on a pedestal and other times you will dislike people because they don't fit into your picture perfect fantasy anymore. Just needs some work.(Neptune is like a siren that wants to sell you a fantasy that isn't there, and when you follow her whistles she gets you. Venus energy wants to receive, get loved and share love. So combining these two energies in a tense aspect like a square or opposition gets messy)
Saturn square north node + the south node are generational breakers. Their upbringing was hard and truly intense
Scorpio mercurys don't mind sounding too direct they will ask you anything if they want to know the answer. Oh I saw that you talked about me on a tuesday girls night with ... around midnight, why did you do this...¿😆
Capricorn suns please let us know how to help you. You go through traumatic sh*t, and after all that you stay humble and act like nothing happened
Jupiter aspecting neptune in a positive way love to create art (all forms of art), it makes them genuinely happy ^^ Neptune has to do with artsy stuff, singing, imagination jupiter expends this energy
Mars in leo want to achieve something (whatever it is) The ego is also ruled by leo, so leo placements feel worthy if they achieve something for themselfes
Pure devine love is something that pisces venuses and moons are capable of giving to human 🫘 But they will also text or call you multiple times if you don't answer (Especially Pisces suns with a pisces venus)
You just want to listen to people who have scorpio mercurys, they always have something interesting to say...They know the secret spots, newest updates overall everything that is hidden honestly
Taurus moons have the ability to become real successful and are some of the warmest people if they let you in :) They like to be confortable and also give this energy out to their beloved ones
Mars in aquarius are known to behave different than the rest of their peers. Nothing that is bad, we need more people who think outside the box and follow different life tracks
If you have your moon (square,opposition) your venus list of your emotional needs and your definition of love and find a solution to combine both, if you not want to hurt the people around you regarding showing them your feelings. Due to this conflict of wanting to show love and not being able to express your feelings as you would like to this technique could possibly help you (:
Taurus venus attract love easily (best example: Ariana Grande MASTER MANIFASTOR)
Leo moons love receiving princess treatment and they know how to get it aswell ;)👑 They are LOUD with their wants and needs
Gemini moons get borderline crazy in their love reationships. One day they LOVE the other they despise you and the cycle begins again (also if you have a gemini venus)
Leo placements are either one of the most timid people you will ever meet or they
want all attention on them
Why did I meet a whole lot of taurus sun boys that struggle with finding real genuine love
Mars in sagittarius are se*ually free people. They like going after their needs and what they feel free to do
Sun (trine,conjunct,sextile) jupiter are confident at their core or they come off as such. It gives the personality an optimistic vibe
Venus in virgo are the most devoted lovers on the world, they will not forget your anniversary (and get real mad if you do), take care of you, pay attention to your dislikes & likes
If you have sun in scorpio degrees your real personality is so hidden from the public. Everybody is going to want to figure out who you are only to discover a new personality trait of yours every now and then
Virgo man get the ick real quick. Why do they hate on women without a reason, boy get that frustration out in a healthy way
Aquarius placements may feel excluded from groups a whole lot but later in their life they find their people and have a good amount of friends around them. Also people who start trends and influence a whole generation (XxxTentacion, Paris Hilton,...)
@sc0rpi0suntaurusm00n part:
Pisces moon - these are the folks who you see drawing in a corner or reading an interesting book, whether it is mixed with fire or air there will always be an ethereal Aura or a mystery to these natives 🫶
Cancer moon - shy individuals quite often. Not ones to initiate contact but definitely enjoys some attention to their needs. Cares about their mother or maternal figure quite deeply. Often times these individuals have a significant relationship with the mother which is part of who they are, single mother raised is quite common and adoption is likely as well from what I have seen. There may also be a misogynistic type in lower vibration natives from what i have seen
Capricorn moon - they may seem like the mysterious yet charismatic type but deep down there is a lot under the surface. These natives being cardinal signs, they can relax into something and then when you least expect it their passion and drive is unstoppable. You never know when they're tumultuous emotional life might break through the surface and send them blazing toward a new goal.
Taurus moon - (I am biased as a Taurus moon myself lol🫣)they may have a soft spot for comfort and stability, and typically the pinnacle of finance, care, and stability (although when mixed with sag it may be expressed quite unconventionally) Taurus moon natives are the least likely to make plans and change them due to "not feeling like it" if they are going to do it, they will. Taurus moons are always sharing their food OR they will never let you touch it - no in- between lol😭
Aquarius sun - Aquarius is very different, what I notice in common is the respect for difference. Often these signs are good with computers lol (maybe just because I have 3rd house aqua). The Aquarius man can be so caring or they can be cold, but they have a soft spot always -whether it is a quirky girl or a Quirky interest. These are often the people who want to be first to do something- the trendsetters... Although some can just be quite on top of trends-i have never seen an Aquarius who wasn't ahead of their pears in something whether fashion electronics or anything new.
Scorpio moon - one of my personal favorites💕, but I'm so biased lol(Scorpio stellium🤫) although these natives are known for having rough lives which is true, these peeps are totally down for a trauma dump sesh, or just a really good rant when you are their close friend. The female Scorpio moons are often friends with more females- might be gay even but too stubborn to act on it. There is always something interesting going on in their emotional world. Either the purest virgin or somewhere between that and a man eater... Scorpio moons do not play around, they are often no bs types whether mixed with air or fire -except for Libra placements sometimes if undeveloped.
Aries moons - omg 🤍 y'all are so passionate with your emotions, like if you are mad you can have a hard time hiding it, but yall are just made to be a ball of passion. There is nothing you do that you do not put your whole heart into, if you don't have your heart in it you won't do it. You can set boundaries a little too rough sometimes for us water signs, but it's okay because you are baddies and need that extra space for chasing passions. PLuS You are always loyal anyways so we don't mind. Aries moon has a really hard time holding a grudge against people, because y'all just want to live and let live. Amazing peoples! especially the girlies whom I have met. The lower vibrations can be super flirty and super flighty tho🫠
Pisces and Aries are actually a really great duo, despite what the horoscope things so often say - pisces and Aries are the most common duo i see i believe this is due to the fact that pisces is at the end of the zodiac and Aries is new to the cycle. Its like opposites but they are also alike which is perfect for a friendship.
Unlike me, a scorpio, since i don't often have libra best friends although libras fall into my 11th house - might be due to my lilith placement being in libra as well...😭
Virgo mercury can be so intentional with their words, and this mixed with virgo mars can make for a really sharp mind but also sharp words in an argument.
- That is part of what makes cancer (sun/moon) and virgo moon a good pair in a relationship, because cancer (sun/moon) is very emotionally intelligent and virgo moon is often good at compartmentalizing emotions and rationally dealing with emotions, and often times cancer (sun/moon) need to learn to balance emotions with reason
Moon quincunx to Mars or mars square moon aspects may cause anger issues in men, specifically cancer moon Sagittarius Mars or Aries Mars. As well as Aquarius moon with Virgo mars.
Pisces placements remind me of the most beautiful expression of emotions. The positive expression of pisces placements can be expressing deep and dark emotions through arts, music, love, and things that are beautiful expressions of feelings. Some pisces placements are old souls having to go through rough experiences in childhood, like experiencing many be lifetimes in one life, it reminds me of what I believe mMitski said best 'I was so young when I behaved 25'
April Mercury Rx in Aries!? Was I the only one or no? - there were so many fights and arguments...as well as exes coming back 🫣 like as a scorpio mercury rx it wasn't that crazy for me but my friends had their exes come back into their lives and there was even a small fight which is very mars..
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If you would like you can join my spiritual family glad to have you here, and never back down never WhAaAT! Keep your hopes in life up always¡ :)
Luvv muah
555
7:25 PM
© 2024 the content is subject to the copyright and responsibility of the author
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Dear Good Omens fandom friends,
can we please agree to keep our sand in our sandbox?
We have a great sandbox. It's big and full of people building castles and villages and roads and stuff. Some of that is big and complicated and detail-oriented, some of it is strange and weird and funny, some if it is off-the-rails in any and all senses of the word. All of it is lovely. Some of it tries to rebuild Neil Gaiman's sandcastle as faithful as possible, either to build onto it or to try and find out where the secret rooms might be hidden. Some of it looks a lot like his but has its own little turrets and courtyards and gardens added everywhere. Some of it looks completely different and doesn't try to hide it. Some of it isn't even meant to be taken seriously and just exists to make people laugh. But there is so much of it that everybody can find something for themselves; and if we don't we just find a free space and start shifting sand ourselves.
Neil Gaiman has his own sandbox. He has built something brilliant and beautiful in it, and he is currently busy building another storey onto it. He doesn't want anybody to see the new part before it is finished, and I know that sometimes the excitement of finally wanting to see it is hard to bear.
But that is why we have our sandbox. To make our own stuff until he reveals the rest of that sandcastle we all love so much. To pass the time, to have fun with it, to meet new people and find more brilliant little sandcastles. Never again will there be as much creativity, as much activity, as many people around in this sandbox than there is now, in the time before the last bit of his castle is revealed. I am sure most of us will be delighted and surprised at what he will have created. Some will be disappointed because they were expecting his sandcastle to look different, some will be disappointed because they saw a castle in our sandbox they liked much more, but most will be delighted because after all we came up with he will still have managed to surprise us.
Our sandbox. His sandbox.
The two are separated for a reason.
Because if you keep throwing sand into his box to get his attention, or keep trying to get a good look at what he is doing over there, or keep yelling at him to look over to ours and tell you which one looks like the one he is trying to make, or which one is the best, or how stupid one of the others looks (last one would also make you a dick), you are quite simply risking the new part of his sandcastle to collapse. Or for him to have to remake it in a way he didn't plan to, or simply dislikes, or that we will all dislike.
And just because he is glad we are enjoying ourselves and proud that his work inspired us to create all these things, doesn't mean he wants to see (all of) it. Some things he definitely wouldn't want to see; other things the creators definitely don't want him to see.
I'm proud of our sandbox. It's huge. It's brilliant. It's creative. It's collaborative. And it's ours.
Have fun in it. But keep it apart from his. Keep out of his. And keep him out of ours. Stop trying to drag him over. He has stuff to do. Important stuff. Stuff I, for one, am waiting very impatiently for.
And he will never show us the parts of the castle that aren't finished yet, no matter how often you ask. And just because he is making an effort to be funny about it doesn't mean we aren't annoying him when we keep asking.
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arminsumi · 7 months
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Hi! I hope ur having a good time. Sorry, for the phrasing, English is not my first language hehe (。>\\<) btw i really like ur writing! u keep them in character and also ur amazing at writing fluff ♡(੭´͈ ᐜ `͈)੭ can I please ask for a gojo fluff where he realizes reader always wanted to have a small boyfriend to like call him baby boy to sit on her lap and spoil him and stuff and then gojo goes apeshit like trying to sit on her with his long ass limbs trying to be a babyboy idk hehehe anyways tysm
"I'm your baby boy, right?"
GOJO さとる + fem!reader
Satoru thinks he's smaller than he actually is, and tries curl up on you like a cat.
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Note : hey hey! srry i took so long to write this omggg it got lost in my drafts. but!! it's such a sweet idea thank u for sending it in!! big beefy satoru trying to make himself ur small boy is a thought that gave me life 💗😖 and thank u so much for ur kind words it means a lot!!
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Satoru tries to curl up on you as if he's a little cat.
But he's not.
Ah, but he really thinks he is sometimes.
And he wants to be a little cat to you, not a big burly man or a strong intimidating menace but just a small, soft, delicate thing to be held and touched and pampered with love and care.
It makes you laugh, as you listen to him grunting and struggling to position himself on your lap and get those long limbs in order — it's one of the funniest sights; a big boy trying to box himself up like he's not 6'3 with broad-shoulders 'n thick arms 'n long spider-like legs.
"Do you think you're a cat or something?"
"Yes." he grins dumbly, balancing precariously on you as you sit. Then he sees your smile and slips off. "—oopsfuck!" he falls, gets up, acts it off, then tries again.
In bed, he wiggles down the sheets so his head is level with your chest. He wraps his arms around your middle, arches his back, and encases you between his legs. He clings to your body on his side like that, and snuggles his cheek on your chest as if it's his rightful pillow, the place where he belongs.
"Play with my hair, please?" he mumbles with pouty lips.
He smiles to himself when you fulfil his request.
Feeling both your warmth and your fingers stroking lovingly through his hair makes him drowsy. And when he's drowsy, he mumbles mental notes like "we need to buy orange juice tomorrow..." as he falls asleep.
His grip slackens as he falls asleep. In the middle of the night, he'll wake up and look at you with that puffy pouty sleepy face of his and stare for a moment, appreciating you, before tightening his embrace on your body and returning to slumber.
When he wakes up the next morning with you, he makes the same request; "Play with my hair." but with a raspy voice.
While you do so, he groaningly complains about having had nightmares all night.
"I keep dreamin' about saving the world 'n failing... but it's fine. I wake up and you're right here. So nothin' to worry about. Doesn't matter if I fail if I still have you."
He's so happy to be getting spoiled and pampered by you while curling his body up as small as possible. Happy that he has someone he doesn't have to be big and strong around. Someone who he can be a baby boy around.
Sometimes he's resting on your chest in the mornings in silence, when suddenly he rears his head up and asks "I'm your baby boy, right? Say it, please."
"Mhm. You're my baby boy, Satoru. Don't worry."
"Mm yay." he smiles to himself and resumes resting on you, his white hair tickling under your chin. "Say it again, please. Just keep saying it."
So you do, you say it repeatedly and it sounds like a soft lullaby to him. He falls back asleep with his ear pressed to your heartbeat, and feels a safe warmness in his chest.
"Oh." he startles out of his shallow sleep, "We need to buy orange juice, don't we?"
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© arminsumi
I do not permit the copying/reposting/translation/plagiarism of my works. Do not steal what I've worked hard to create.
This is fictional work.
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palskippah · 18 days
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Hi! I give you this Stobotnik fankid I made a while ago :'y
She's Sofia --or Ivania or some other name ending in 'ia'-- Robotnik (coolest last name)
It's a compilation and also there's some Stone for practice bc I have no idea how to draw him pipipi Eggman is easier bc it's just his Sonic Boom design (I love it)
Some stuff about this universe under the cut!
(Btw if there's incongruencies is bc I can't make up my mind about the facts whwhw)
-Robotnik and Stone are married, very much married. Cartoon villains in love, I love that for them.
-["MARTHA I'M COMING HOME SWEETIE-"] Mixing up the movie things and the whatever's going on in the Sonic Boom, so Robotnik was gone for eight months and when he's back she's already born.
>Also the drawing is a reference to Icarly's "Whatcha got there?" "A smoothie" but she was clearly asking about the ostrich Spencer brought with him.
>Alternatively, Eggman's there and they go through the journey together yippiee. Choosing names, making evil parenting plans and whatever, being their idiot selves.
(After celebrating because they're good news actually) "I want a boy or a girl-" (Eggman) "Yeah me too." (Stone) "-and we should name them a single, worth of remembering name! Like... Eggette for a girl and Eggson for a boy." "I'm not letting you name them any of that, doctor..." "Okay, then how about Beyonce for a girl and-"
>They wouldn't have kids (?? maybe? I don't really know, I only know sonic boom and the movie :'U)- but she was probably the 1% the birth control warns you about. Also, Stobotnik got a very active seggsual life, and I'm imagining she came to be from a quickie over the desk, why not.
>Helpful diagram of Eggman + Stone kissing and then = baby. They were in work hours.
-In the one where he comes back and the baby's already there, Eggman does a terrible job as a father the few first months, but then he gets the hang of it and it's not so bad.
>He gets projectile vomited on and he's immediately asking to get an abortion (the baby's already born) (he didn't give birth to her), Stone says no anyways.
>"Surprisingly, I'm a good father" he thinks one day and it's because he's still very much an orphan here with no frame of comparation or example aside from researching the matter.
-In the one where they wait for her together, he does all the research necessary in all those months, absolutely refusing in doing an average job in that matter, he's the great Ivo Robotnik c'mon. He excels at anything and he'll be a great father (jk he's terrified of fucking up).
-The Stobotnik family is an evil but loving family, like the bears in Puss in Boots whwh criminal family✨
-For the funny of it, Sonic and Eggman got a sort of relationship like in Sonic Boom, so sometime maybe our favorite boy, Tails and Knuckles had to look after their child.
-Also since Knuckles broke Stone's and Robotnik's hands with their handshake, let's have him handle the baby with the most careful grip ever, just to demonstrate that he didn't have to grab their hands that hard aksdjask
-She's a big fan of Sonic and friends (Sonic the Hedgehog, not Sonic Wachowski, the second guy hadn't done even half the things she admires him for, but no one has the heart to tell her when she's a kid). Has a bunch of merch and all the comics of Sonic the Hedgehog.
>When she's a teenager she proudly uses her Sonic backpack in the same way Deadpool uses his Hello Kitty backpack.
-BTW Sonic, Knuckles and Tails are all brothers and Maddie and Tom's kids bc that's the best idea ever made.
-ALSO I'm definitely gonna draw that scene where Knuckles was about to put the baby in the blender and Sonic shouts THE CHILI DOG NOT THE BABY. Some day, you'll see pipipi.
-SAGE was created for various reasons, to be her sister (since she wouldn't stop asking for one but neither Stone nor Robotnik were willing in raising another human kid, thanks very much), to protect her, and also to answer the tedious "why?" questions that neither father had the patience for (A+ parenting right there). Maybe she was used for the original purpose too idk (I don't know that sonic game where she debuts).
>The child's delighted about having a sister, then she grows up and SAGE doesn't, so she has a little sister.
>METAL SONIC TOO MAYBE? Perfect lil american family, the two happily married parents and their three kids (one human girl, an IA and a robot clone of their alien enemy).
-On her early months she was called Pebble, because she really was a mini Stone, Robotnik went along with it (bc he also looked at her and only saw his husband whw) until she was a little older and they started calling her by her name.
>Alternatively, since Eggman was gone, Stone waited for him to return in hopes of choosing together a name for their child, and Pebble worked as a placeholder since she was just a bebi.
>Alternatively alternatively, Eggman came up with the nickname. ROCK-ONNAISSANCE 🗣️ also yeah I know he was going crazy from the mushroom stuff, but he's not above making silly puns, he's a dad now and also he's naturally silly.
(NGL I really gotta make up my mind about how it all happened ajsdkad)
-She's a spoiled kid and also a little menace, unintentionally evil, she can't help it.
>Good-hearted too sometimes, she loves Sage and does her best to protect her back (it's not necessary but it's appreciated anyways).
-Robotnik calls himself 'daddy' way too much in the live-action movies to ignore it, so he's daddy and Stone's dad (dada when she was younger).
>"These are my daddies!" (points to what's clearly two villains -but also good fathers-)
-She has Robotnik's eyes but as big as Stone's. They're the lethal-est sad puppy eyes ever (they work wonders on both parents and other people) (both men got beautiful dark brown eyes with visible eyelashes fight me).
>Look at Eggman's silly eyelashes:
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>Also, you know that picture of Lee Majdoub with the beautiful everything? I think he was wearing eyeliner so my Stone wears eyeliner too in contrast to Eggman's dark circles under his eyes JDJS😭
-She's the five-year-old that made Sonic fear them because 'they can be so cruel when they sense weakness' (she was brutally honest as any young kid is).
-Stone and Robotnik got Gomez and Morticia Addams kinda parenting. They see their child beating up someone and they're like:
"What did we do wrong?" (Stone while shaking his head in disappointment) "I know... she lacks resourcefulness." (Eggman) "Exactly, there's her baseball bat right there, why doesn't she use it?"
-Remember that Shadow said in a game that he wouldn't mind taking a candy from a baby? (fandub I think but still) This comes in handy when neither Tails, Sonic or Knuckles want to upset the kid (so Shadow does it instead).
-She plays sports too because she got too much energy. In each of them she loses her patience. She grabs the football and hauls it at the nearest team member, she throws her baseball bat to the ground and starts beating up whoever threw the ball that she missed, she stomps in frustration if she loses, she's great at dodgeball (sends her classmates to the infirmary).
-Throws tantrums and stuff and overall's an annoying kid if she's upset. Eggman's like UGH WHY'S SHE LIKE THIS?? and Stone's like Because of you, doctor (terrible temperament runs in the family and also Robotnik just spoiled her too much).
-I'm kinda dressing her up in the clothes that existed in my mind that supposedly Eggman wore (the weird dress-like jacket with the big zipper in the middle). Under her jacket there's a dress in the same pattern as the original Eggman's clothes, also she wears a baby onesie like that too.
-When she's older she's definitely proud of her fathers, but she doesn't appreciate the rumors that she's prone to go power-crazy like Robotnik did. Especially because it may be true, but what do they know.
-For the irony, she can't stand drinking coffee, but loves the smell of it because it reminds her of home (omg).
-THEY HAVE A PET CAT like I read in some fics and her name is Robot and she's a lil shit and also grumpy like Robotnik.
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>Maybe she brings her alive mice to experiment on all sort of stuff (like Pávlov and his dogs and the guy Skinner with his mice and cats (??))
-She gets to hang out with Sonic and friends under the condition of annoying him as much as possible. So, she complies. (She loves Sonic the Hedgehog, but she loves making her fathers happy more).
-Very smart kid but not to the level of Tails or Robotnik at that age, she's just got very good memory and learning skills and knows a lot of stuff ever since she was a little kid. More like a Matilda-kinda intelligence.
-She's a scientist when she grows up too but the kind that makes evil potions and serums and stuff aksjdk probably (chemistry things? biochem idk). She can make silly little robots for the fun of it but it's not her passion, unlike Robotnik and Stone's. PROBABLY. I'm still deciding.
-BTW LOOK (it says 'carefully crafted ploy to distract space porcupines')
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>While Eggman's there with the baby and Sonic in front of him going AWWW BABY BOO and making her laugh, Stone is sneaking up on him holding a chair above his head to knock him out.
THAT'S IT THANKS FOR READING ✨✨
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ohnoitstbskyen · 2 months
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I know it would probably bring a lot of hate comments but I am begging you to roast the hazbin character designs because I'd love to have someone properly articulate why they don't work so I could send it to people who won't believe me when I tell them. 🫠 Understandable if you don't want to get into it though.
I don't think there's that much there to roast, honestly?
Those designs are clearly an extremely specific stylistic choice, and because that style is consistent throughout the show, it ultimately feels coherent with itself.
There are trade-offs being made. Because Hazbin's design style is SO stylized and so heavy on decoration and detailing, because it puts a lot of emphasis on costuming, it isn't as good at communicating specific character storytelling as a more grounded style could be (it's kind of the same tradeoff that stuff like Genshin Impact makes).
Like, why does Sir Pentious' hat have an eye and a mouth on it that makes its own expressions? Apparently not for very much reason at all, except that Pentious has a bit of an eyes-motif going on in his design and it was one more place to put an extra eye. And that's a valid criticism of his design, but also the entire show is designed like that, so frankly it would be weirder and more out of place if his design alone didn't have that kind of overelaborate decoration going on.
It does create a situation where I have a hard time "reading" the character designs sometimes. For example, Vox, Alastor and Pentious all wear a similar style of suit with upwards-turned shoulders, butterflies and pinstripes. Now, am I meant to read that as Vox imitating Alastor due to his crippling need to replace and outdo him, and Pentious imitating the style of powerful Overlords because he thinks that possessing their level of power will finally give him relief from his paranoia and self-loathing?
Or is it just a design fixation of the creator who keeps putting their characters in suits because that's just what they like? I can't really be sure, because sometimes design elements are used to intentionally tell stories about how characters relate to themselves, their world and one another, but plenty of other times designs look the way they do Because Of Vibes.
But again, that lack of clarity is clearly an intentional trade-off - and the benefit of that trade-off is a design style that is extremely varied, wild, expressive and memorable. Hazbin Hotel seems like a very easy show to draw fanart of, and a very fun show to draw fanart of. Those designs (especially the hyper-expressive faces) are begging to be the subjects of traumatic headcanons, unbearably cotton-candy soft fluff fantasies and weird, taboo, homoerotic power dynamics. Slaps roof of character design, this bad boy can express so much vicarious emotional intensity.
It's very exuberant, very excited about itself and very self-indulgent, it's a style that prioritizes visual impact and visual interest over readability (something which the animators of the show navigate with real skill, props to them) and individual aesthetics over worldbuilding.
And I don't blame anyone for being turned off by that (I certainly was the first time I started seeing those designs going around), but I would struggle to call the show's designs "bad" when they are clearly achieving exactly what they want to achieve.
I have some criticisms, especially re: how the show treats skinny bodies as an unquestioned, desirable default, and employs fatness as a means of alienating and abjecting the audience. That sucks very badly, and is a serious disappointment, and one of the few places where the show feels like it is being cowardly in its design philosophy. But I don't have it in me to do some kind of Hazbin Hotel Sucks And Here's Why takedown, its problems are not unique or extreme enough to warrant it, at least not as I currently understand them.
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washeduphazbin · 2 months
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I binged through your amazing writing and would love to request something, if you don't mind? Adam x girlfriend how he would react to getting his wings caressed for the first time? Maybe getting inspired to do some more spicy caressing of his own?👀
First of all thank you so much! I’m so happy you like my stuff and YES I CAN ABSOLUTELY DO THIS. I hope you like this it might be a little different than what you had in mind! ;)
CONTENT WARNINGS: MINORS DNI. ADAM BEING ADAM, NSFW CONCEPTS, MASTURBATION ON ADAMS.
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Soulmates were a weird concept, especially for Angels. Theoretically Adam knew he had one, thought it was Lilith, WRONG, thought maybe God made Eve for him next, ALSO WRONG! So Adam just stuck to sucking face and fucking the tightest pussy of the hottest winners in heaven and that was fine…until you came into the picture. You weren’t a normal Winner, in fact you weren’t a winner at all but one of the Seraphim training under Sera. At first he was going to dump as soon as he got what he wanted; even if that meant facing the wrath of Sera…but for some reason you were different.
You weren’t as charmed as many of the others when he pulled out his first man and first dick status, in fact you seemed almost indifferent to it.
Unfortunately for the both of you Adam loved to hate a challenge.
Before the Angel knew what had hit him you had claimed the title of his girlfriend before he even fully understood what he was asking.
But fuck he understood the Soulmate Concept now. For someone one who was created with pure goodness in your soul, to judge right from wrong, you were one cold, calculated bitch when it came to the idea of exterminating Sinners. He thought you’d fight with him on the concept but instead you were in agreement, heaven was for Winners only, and that was that. Plus who cared if a few Sinners died, they were overpopulated anyway.
It also helped that you had the tightest pussy he’s ever stuck his massive dick into and the best mouth to suck him off. He’d reciprocate…sometimes…only if you begged.
“Sugartits?”
“Hm?” You stretched your arms above your head, you were wearing one of his shirts, it was way too big on you hanging off your shoulders. He grinned lazily his hand sliding up your thigh, “Adam.” You warned,
“What?” He laughed, “you can’t just sit there looking all sexy and expect me not to try to fuck ya.”
“I can expect that because I just sucked you off like three times.” You raised a brow, “and you came in my mouth. Three times. Which shouldn’t be possible anatomically and not to mention I swallowed.”
“Dickmaster baby.” He pointed to his crotch with a sly grin, “gotta live up to my namesake.”
“Well, live up to it another time. My pussy is off limits for now.” Adam groaned, “not my fault you went too hard yesterday dickmaster and I’m not in the mood today. Now Roll over.”
“Hey we’ve talked about this you’re not putting anything in my butt.” He bristled, his wings puffing out behind him, you huffed.
“I’m not asking to peg you dumbass I’m asking you to turn around so I can groom your wings.”
“…groom my wings?” Adam blinked a few times giving you an odd look. “The fuck you on about?”
“Have you never groomed yourself?”
“No…” he watched your nose scrunch up,
“Yeah. I can tell. You’re lucky I love you,” he watched you lean forward and peck his lips Adam chuckled brushing his stubble against your cheek. “Adam!”
“Love ya’ too.” He grinned reaching out and squeezing your ass before turning around, spreading his wings wide, “be gentle with me.”
“Whatever you say, you delicate flower.” You grumbled as he snickered, drumming his fingers on his thigh. Before you began grooming him, he felt you reach around the pudge of his stomach, kissing the side of his neck adoringly. Adam swallowed and felt a chill of pleasure run down his spine. " I love you.” You said more earnestly than before, eyes softening “Just try to relax and enjoy this.”
“I love you too…” he grumbled softly, his eyes fluttering as your fingers ran through the feathers at the base of his back. Adam instantly felt his body drop as your hands pulled at the mussed feathers. "Fuck doll, whatever you're fucking doing, keep doing it." Adam panted,
"I'm preening you." You mused, "First time?"
"Apparently. Shit, this is totally turning me on; you should do this tits out. While we face a mirror-" He tried to turn to look at you but you forced his head back to its original position. Adam let out an annoyed sound,
"Gross. Only you'd find basic hygiene a turn-on." You teased, pulling out a few loose feathers as he groaned at the feeling, you hummed placing one of his golden feathers behind your ear. You leaned forward to pepper his face in feather light kisses, he grunted but pressed his back against your body, his own way of asking for more attention. With nimble fingers you continued to preen and clean his feathers, his nails dug into the tops of his thighs.
A part of him wanted to flip you over and pound your body into the mattress until you’re crying, but another part of him didn’t want you to stop touching him. He wanted you to continue preen him, making him look pretty, but as you continued Adam felt his body burn with need as his dick strained against his boxers.
He couldn’t even fuckin’ ask you to suck him off without you scolding him.
“Anddddd done!” You hummed brushing your fingers through his wings one last time before hopping off the bed. Adam let out a sharp breath through his nose spreading out his wings, they already felt a million times lighter than they had in eons. You stood in front of him, looking all cute and sexy in his oversized shirt hiding your thighs and panties from view. With a crooked grin he grabbed you by the waist with his giant hands and pulled you into his lap, you giggled slotting your arms around his neck. “Hi baby,” you cooed tilting your head innocently to the side like you couldn’t feel his raging boner against your thigh. He clicked his tongue in annoyance flicking the golden feather tucked behind your ear,
“You gonna fuckin’ keep that thing behind your ear all day?”
You pouted, adorably, and brushed your finger against the feather in his hair. Adam shivered and swore he could still feel your phantom hands against his sensitive wings. “I was planning on keeping it there forever I’ll have you know.” You crossed your arms over your chest, “that way everyone knows who. I. Belong. Too.” You poked his stomach for emphasize and he let out a low, possessive growl. His nails digging into your hips underneath the shirt you wore,
“Fuck doll face. That’s so fuckin’ sexy. You’re turning me on SO much right now.” He grinned all teeth and blown pupils. Another giggle from your lips as your white wings brushed against his cheeks in a soothing manner.
“I can tell dickmaster extraordinaire.” You drew your finger down across his lips, his smile turned into a frown he knew that look in your eyes all too well.
“Don’t you fuckin’ dare.”
“Unfortunately I have a very important, cannot reschedule meeting with Sera.” You mused squishing his cheeks between the palms of your hands as he growled. “Love you don’t wait up!” You slipped out of his arms before Adam could snatch you back up and tell Sera to go fuck herself.
Not really he was too intimidated by the Seraphim to try disobeying her to her face.
The absolute struggle of dating an actual angel and who wasn’t just a Winner. He grumbled as you snapped your fingers changing back into your normal attire. His shirt was folded nicely on the bed next to him, he snatched it up, blatantly sniffing it. It smelled like you, him and sex the man could get off on just that smell alone.
“Be good and I might let you fuck me later.”
“If I even want to fuck your sorry ass later.” Adam grunted indignantly leaning back on the bed.
“The day you don’t you wanna fuck something with a pulse I’ll personally call God down here because that’s a goddamn miracle.” You argue blowing him a kiss, to which he rolled his eyes dramatically.
“Maybe I just won’t wanna fuck you specifically what about that. Your pussy’s not that good.” Adam flipped you off as you raised an eyebrow, an arm resting on your hips.
“Oh yeah? That a challenge?”
An internal war raged in Adam’s head. On one hand go all in, don’t let the sexy broad in front of him win. Don’t admit her pussy squeezes him like a vice and is better than all of his previous wives pussy’s before her. Don’t admit that he’d probably let himself fall just for a chance to be with her again if it came to that. The thought alone made him want to gag; on the other hand admit she’s right and no one will ever compare to her and she’s ruined all other woman for him forever.
“Fuck you.” He settled on.
“Later if you behave.” You promised spreading your wings with a coy grin before sliding out of the room. Adam fell back against the bed with a loud groan, life’s a fuckin’ bitch.
Baby cakes: It’s running later than I thought. I’ll make it up to you I promise, there’s some things I need to work out.
Original Dick: You’ve gotta be kidding me Ive been waiting all day for you
Baby Cakes: I know :( I’m sorry. Can you entertain yourself until I get back?
Original Dick: I don’t wanna jerk off. I wanna be in your pusy
Original Dick:*pussy
Baby Cakes: I know and I’m SORRY. When I get back promise you can do whatever you want.
Original Dick: anything?
Baby Cakes: …yes. Don’t make me regret it Adam.
Original Dick: at least gimmie some good jack off material. A nude? Titty pic? Anything?
Baby Cakes: You’re such a pain in my ass. Give me twenty.
With the deal struck Adam figured it wouldn’t be such a pain to relieve himself before you came back from your meeting. After all who knew how long you’d be held up, and he didn’t need much for what planned to do with you.
That however was for another time and place. He settled on the bed with a loud sigh stretching his arms up into the sky, and spreading his large wings across the bed. Adam waved his hand summoning the shirt you wore earlier and brought it up to his nose, it still smelled and he groaned into the fabric. He was tempted to never wash it again, his wings fluttered almost like they were demanding your fingers caress them like you did earlier. Adam grunted staring down at his large digits knowing almost immediately he wouldn’t derive the same pleasure as before, but touched his own wings nonetheless. He shivered at the sensation and it wasn’t quite as unpleasant as he suspected but nothing like earlier.
Still there were hints of arousal as he preened himself; massaging the base of his wings moving upwards towards the tips. His other hand lowering down into his boxers, he wasn’t quite hard yet but he was certainly getting there.
His phone buzzed, Adam had half a mind to turn it off but seeing it was from you had his dick pulsing. He snatched his phone unlocking it quickly only to be met with a picture of you, face flushed in an empty conference room. Your shirt was pulled all the way up exposing your white lace bra and the swell of your perfect fuckable tits. Adam grinned feeling his dick grow in his hand, now that’s what he liked to see, he pumped himself a few times hissing at the sensation. His finger swirled around the head smearing pre all over himself, “come on baby. Show daddy some more, can’t get off to just your bra pic, that’s weak sauce.”
Like you read his mind another buzz, followed by another picture, this time your bra was completely off showing off your boobs, his feather clutched between your two fingers as your tongue licked up the plumes. Your other two fingers seemed to be buried in your pants, clearly teasing your clit.
Baby Cakes: Don’t wanna wait till later big daddy. Want you now :( stupid meeting. Just wanna be your cock slut.
Fuckkkkkkkkk. Adam groaned releasing his phone momentarily so he could moan into the palm for his hand. His cock throbbed as he reread the words over and over again, he could almost hear you saying them as you rode his thick dick whimpering so nicely with your wings spread behind you. Adam began pumping his dick faster, thrusting into the palm of his hand, squeezing it trying to mimic the feel of your tight, hot cunt.
It wasn’t working.
He cursed again, bucking his hips desperately trying to chase the release he’s wanted all fucking day.
Another buzz. This time a voice memo, shit how were you finding time to send him all this and not enough time to call off the meeting and come home.
Adam chose to ignore the fact lunch and dinner beaks existed.
He hit play already thrusting into his hand and choked back a sound as your high pitched whine played loudly through the speaker of his phone. You WERE playing with yourself, you fuckin’ brat, you were soooo getting punished.
You were moaning softly trying to be as quiet as possible, he could hear the squelch of your fingers dipping in and out of your wet pussy, he new you were dripping, clenching around fingers much too small to satisfy yourself at this point. Almost like he was willing you to hear him Adam began to speed up to match your pace, heavy breathing mixed with your own as he heard your breathing hitch before letting out a shuddering moan. He wasn’t long after, spilling all over his hand and boxers, “she’s so fuckin’ dead.” He said with a grin spreading across his face whipping his cum soaked hand on the bedspread next to him.
It was your bedspread after all.
I hope this lived up to some of your expectations my dear. I throughly enjoyed writing it, next out will be Lucifer x reader x Lilith poly relationship and I am very excited! If you wanna be tagged in that just let me know! <3
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coefore · 3 months
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I did it! This is an IDW AU born while watching The Green Knight (2021), specifically from one movie shot that I'd like to redraw. I was torn on whether or not to draw them all as robots or humans, so I started making designs for their human counterparts first - mostly because it is more fun to come up with clothes and accessories. I will eventually tackle a robot version. This is a long post, btw!
Indeed, this is a completely separate version from the Lion King AU I had come up with a couple of years ago, I just borrowed the crowns because I really liked those designs lol.
But let's set the stage under the cut. You can listen to the playlist on spotify dedicated to it: I've placed the songs in sequence so that they can create a certain vibe for the scenes I had in mind. You can read the plot part while listening.
Some character traits
This royalty au supposes a parliamentary monarchy (like the UK, Spain or Japan). This work is an in-between of later Roman/early Medieval aesthetics and some Futuristic Stuff. The Autobot brand is the royal family crest, while the Decepticon brand can be used to signal the Protector and their entourage, but only in formal settings outside the nation. Usually, the Protector can show elements of the Decepticon colours (red) in their attires.
Optimus Prime
Optimus is prideful and domineering: he knows he has the power to do real damage to people. After all, he was born into royalty and has known no other life. He has anger outbursts, but that's a side effect of his paranoia. At the start of the story, he is not the prime yet. He's around 23-24, already suffering from a mental affliction much like schizophrenia, but, just as in ye old days, the court and his father (Zeta) are not really concerned about his odd behaviours. "He is just volatile", you know. He is also dramatic, making big scenes when his emotions are too cooped up. Optimus, though, is not intentionally cruel - this isn't a Shattered Glass au where he wants some kind of bloodlust sated. He has a deep inner mind, feeling much more like a philosopher and a writer than a brute. This makes him a little naive, too, having people in court (like Prowl) taking advantage of him - and sometimes even Megatron uses his influence on Optimus to stir him where he wants to. He reads a lot, is curious, and is deeply in love with Megatron - sometimes becoming a little cringy about it. He can be a bit of a goofball, telling jokes and being rather affectionate with his family. Sadly, he's a Pisces.
Megatron
Megatron is a diligent engineer who just so happens to pick the Prime's son's interest at some point while assisting his father (Terminus, a strict, distant man) in a job at court. Optimus and Megatron are the same age. He is aloof, quiet and a very good listener. That means he often allows people to speak over him or for him - that doesn't mean, however, that he isn't going to correct them or speak his mind. He is just a careful man. Coming from a rather cold family environment, he has a hard time expressing his emotions, both verbally and physically: he kisses and hugs, sure, but that doesn't come naturally to him. After becoming protector, he has a hard time getting used to the court lifestyle since he is quite bothered by the intricacies of royal "rituals", may they be clothing, hairstyles or make-up choices. Or Starscream fussing over him about that all day. He also often stands up against abuse of power, especially from Optimus. They fight quite a lot. He enjoys drawing (buildings, like architecture) and reading novels, but he's not particularly cultured. He is also, sadly, an Aquarius. (And transgender, but this has no political or social bearing in the story besides being Rodimus' biological carrier).
Prowl
Prowl is about fifteen years older than Optimus, becoming his advisor once Zeta Prime passes in "a tragic accident". He is ambitious, cunning and... Deceptive. His ultimate goal is to push Optimus to insanity, convince the parliament he is unfit to rule and become reagent in his stead. This would allow him to create an oligarchy with other senators. His words always support Optimus' delusions, abusing the Prime's naivety for his scheming. Prowl thinks of Optimus as an idiot lucky enough to be born in a high position in the social pyramid. He has attempted various times to "warn" Megatron, one of the few people who is extremely suspicious of Prowl. And by warn, I mean having him pushed down the stairs, giving him a nice broken leg. He also acts suspiciously around Rodimus.
Zeta Prime
Zeta Prime was a balanced, careful ruler. He held concerns about his son's future, as he thought Optimus wasn't fit for a leading role. He was a stern man and often frustrated by Optimus' antics. However, their relationship was on good terms. He was "found" dead by Prowl during a political meeting abroad, as he was standing in for Alpha Trion (Zeta's advisor), prompting Optimus' coronation. Zeta wasn't sick, but all primes in this AU suffer from haemophilia (a hereditary illness that makes it harder for the body to stop bleeding).
Rodimus
Rodimus was born three years into Optimus' primacy. He was brought up in a restrictive environment, as Megatron grew more suspicious of Prowl, fearing for Rodimus' safety. That translated into Rodimus feeling anxious when Megatron's not around (for too long, at least) and becoming a little jealous of him, even if it's Optimus taking Megatron's attention. Rodimus uses "dad" for Megatron and "Father" for Optimus. He doesn't like Optimus too much, usually bearing his presence and ignoring him whenever he can, but deep down he worries about his father, too. He is a very knowledgeable child with a vast vocabulary, as he enjoys books of every kind and, just like his dad, he is a good listener, learning a lot from the "adult conversations" around him. Rodimus is often seen together with Starscream (his nanny, in a way lol), who he is fond of but has difficulties showing it. He becomes Prime-to-be at the age of 16, like all Primes.
Starscream
Starscream was the royal alchemist, an inspired researcher and a man of science. He is loyal and has strong opinions on many subjects, especially on morals and ethics. That is also why, during Zeta's late reign, he was demoted to servant with the accusation of insubordination. He is still a high-grade servant, usually dealing with bureaucracy... Until a new Protector shows up, that is. As soon as Megatron becomes a Protector-to-be, he is assigned the role of first maid in assisting him, a task he takes very seriously. Although Megatron's distance and lack of interactions with him drive him quite mad at first, he slowly realises they're quite compatible. Their relationship evolves into confidants and then friends, as Megatron often takes Starscream's side. Also, Starscream has been suspicious of Prowl since day one. He enjoys Rodimus until he starts being a little opinionated pest-- but he's fond of the child, even as he grows older and more anxious. His hobby is sneaking into the court laboratories and fixing whatever annotations made by other alchemists he deems wrong.
Skywarp & Thundercracker
They are part of the Protector's entourage (and Starscream's brothers). Skywarp is a little airheaded, a bit clumsy, and usually focuses on entertainment, mostly writing poems and songs. He is the only one who knows all the intricate inner passages of the court's buildings by heart, meaning he never gets lost. Thundercracker, on the other hand, is a bit more cocky. He is built like a brick, so he helps with manual tasks and is a decent leader, usually picking up the ranks when Starscream is busy. Both of them were not demoted like their brother, they just started working at the court as high-grade servants. They are very loyal to Megatron, although they treat him more like a royal than a friend.
The Plot (generally speaking)
Optimus is interested in this one engineer working at the court he has seen a couple of times in the last few months. He is gorgeous, and it sounds like a fun time to fill in his afternoons, maybe even getting some sex out of it. That's a thing he hasn't lacked in his life, like most royals he was used to having sex workers available at whim. However, Megatron doesn't seem too affected by the Prime-to-be's attention. He is very deadpan and interested in him as a person; he finds Optimus interesting and funny, so, in a matter of weeks, they kind of hit it off, Optimus falling madly in love with this man, spending most of the time daydreaming and absolutely useless at his duties, much to Zeta's dismay.
As this love story progresses over the next couple of years, Prowl's machination starts rolling out: being a young overachiever, he patiently waits for the chance to get rid of Zeta in a way that doesn't point directly to him. After all, Prowl is trusted and seen as loyal and caring for the Primes he serves; he is an incredibly talented actor, having the support of a few Autobot senators, too. On an out-of-country political trip, he lets Zeta bleed to death, coming back home in a hurry to announce the Prime's death and rushing Optimus' coronation. At this point, Optimus is not mentally ready to hold that position; he is quickly pushed to marry Megatron, making him his Protector. In a matter of a year and a half, Optimus' mental state quickly deteriorates, allowing Prowl to take hold of the neo-Prime's decisions.
Optimus' mental illness worsens, which stresses Megatron into stirring his husband away from Prowl. Rodimus is born in that worried, paranoid environment. Although mostly wanted by Optimus as one of his fixations (and also discouraged by Prowl himself), Rodimus brings more stability to the court. Megatron finally takes hold of Optimus' volatile behaviour as Rodimus grows older, making the Prime doubt his advisor's suggestions more than once. Prowl, thus, "warns" Megatron to lay low, having him pushed down the stairs. The goal wasn't to kill Megatron but to show him Prowl could. As Rodimus turns seven, Megatron becomes more anxious and paranoid, rubbing that over to his son. Optimus doesn't allow them to go around the court or outside without being accompanied.
Prowl's hold on Optimus slowly slips away. At the time of Rodimus' coronation as a Prime-to-be, during a medical examination for his haemophilia, the court physician (Ratchet) tells him he needs to be careful, as that illness was Zeta's cause of death. That was a known thing, of course, but it made Optimus think over the mechanics of his father's death in a way only an obsession-driven man can. He confides with Megatron over his suspicion of Prowl killing his father, and finally, they seem to be on the same page on this...
This is somehow the story up to now. I don't know if I'll update it further. I just enjoy the idea of whatever can happen in this setting. I hope you enjoyed reading this wall of text.
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