#(might as well throw it under the art tag)

[sidekick-hero]

(steddie | mature | 1.5k | tags: friends with benefits, Eddie Munson is bad at feelings, but Steve makes him talk about them anyway, at least in metaphors, emotional hurt/comfort | @steddielovemonth prompt Love is letting yourself be loved by @quinns-shadowy-arts | AO3)

"Mm, where you goin'?”

Eddie winces at the sound of Steve's groggy voice calling to him from where he's still buried under sheets that smell of them. Of what they did between them just a few hours ago.

He didn't mean to fall asleep, but it was impossible not to with the comforting weight of Steve on top of him, wrapped in soft blankets and Steve's warmth and musky smell.

"Home. Go back to sleep." Eddie whispers softly, as if Steve will forget he's here if he's just quiet enough.

No such luck, for Steve Harrington is nothing if not persistent.

Strong hands that Eddie had just felt on his body earlier that night, their shape as familiar to him as his own, lift the blanket to reveal Steve's naked body. "Come back to bed, Eddie."

They don't do this.

Well, Eddie doesn't.

He's not the type to overstay his welcome, he'd rather leave by choice than be asked to.

Steve never asked him to leave, but he doesn't ask Eddie to stay either. At least not as bluntly as now. He usually approaches Eddie cautiously, like a feral dog you find chained to a fence. Feeding it scraps so it won't bite when you get close.

Steve has been feeding him scraps of warmth, of gentle touch and tenderness, of affection, for months.

And like a dog chained to a fence, Eddie is helpless but to take them. He's starving for it, deprived for so long that the mere promise makes him salivate. Willing to take whatever morsels of love and care Steve is willing to offer him, but never asking for more. Never trusting for more.

Never inviting Steve closer for fear that one day he'll bite. Not because he wants to, but because that's all he's learned.

Because it's the only way he's learned to survive.

"Steve," he begins, not knowing what to say next. Don't ask me that. Don't want me to stay. Don't want me.

Don't love me.

The room is dark because Eddie didn't turn on the light when he slid out of bed looking for his clothes. The only light is the moon shining through Steve's window, but it's enough to illuminate Steve's face.

He doesn't look dejected at Eddie's rejection, doesn't look angry or sad or irritated.

The look on his face is painfully soft, not pity, but understanding and sorrow.

Steve throws the blanket completely off his body and climbs out of bed as well, his movements slow but determined. Eddie could just turn and walk away and Steve would let him. Probably would not even mention it again.

He never does. He never asks Eddie why he always leaves right after, the sweat on their bodies still warm on their heated skin and the marks of eager hands and mouths still to be seen.

Eddie doesn't know why, but today is different. Maybe it is because they fell asleep together for the first time, Steve's face buried in his neck and his soft hair tickling Eddie's nose. Their limbs intertwined, their skin fused by sweat and cum and a magnetic pull Eddie doesn't want to name.

A warm hand reaches for his own, cold from standing naked in Steve's room in the middle of the night. Steve reaches for his other hand, too, and warms it between his, like when they were out at the quarry and Eddie forgot his jacket again.

"Why do you keep running away from me?" Steve asks, his voice as soft as his face. Eddie knows Steve isn't asking to hurt him.

It still hurts. It reminds him that he's a coward who keeps running away. Steve may have been changed by all that Upside Down crap, but not Eddie, oh no.

Eddie Munson was still a coward. Running away and hurting anyone who dared care about him, just like his father.

Searching for words, but for once at a loss for them, he looks at Steve helplessly. A pit forms in his stomach, telling him that if he doesn't get this right, he might lose Steve. At least the Steve who kisses him softly and holds him like he's precious while he falls apart in his arms, gasping and moaning and shaking because nothing can feel this good and yet it does. Every. Single. Time.

He can't even fathom the thought, the idea of a life without Steve in it.

"'m sorry," he mutters, defeated.

He's pulled in by Steve's hands until they're so close their chests almost touch, Steve's face inches from his. So close, he can see the moonlight in his eyes and the hickey Eddie carelessly left on his neck, right above his favorite twin moles.

"Don't be. Just... tell me what you're so afraid of? Because every time I think... every time I let myself think that maybe you want this, too, you pull away. Even further away than you were before. I feel like if I let you walk out that door right now, I won't see you for a week, won't be able to touch you the way I want to, need to, for a month."

It's hard to hold Steve's gaze, but Eddie thinks he wouldn't be able to look away if a portal to the Upside Down opened right next to them.

"If you don't want me, or if you," a deep breath, as if the next part is going to hurt, "if you can't love me, then that's okay. It's okay, Eddie, I promise. You can tell me."

The way Steve's voice wavers at those words tells a different story, but he holds Eddie's gaze with the same kind of stubborn bravery with which he faced down monsters.

And that's the last straw for Eddie. To know that Steve thinks he's the problem. Acting like not loving him was ever an option for Eddie.

"Ever hear of the butterfly effect?"

Steve shakes his head, his eyebrows knitted together in an adorable expression of confusion.

"It basically says that something as small as the flap of a butterfly's wings can potentially set off a chain of events that could lead to a major change in the weather and create a hurricane, for example."

When Steve still looks like he has no idea why Eddie is telling him this, Eddie takes Steve's face in his hands and with the same courage he used to face a swarm of demonic bats, Eddie tells him, "When you came into my life, that was my butterfly effect. It changed everything. For the better. You are my butterfly, Steve Harrington, the flap of your wings changed the trajectory of my life."

"But why -"

"You're my butterfly, but I'm afraid I'm your hurricane."

The words are between them now, out in the open, his mouth giving birth to his fears.

Steve keeps looking at him, though, his expression thoughtful, processing everything Eddie just said. It's fascinating to watch a myriad of emotions wash over his beautiful face until, after a long moment, it settles on a smile that looks dangerously like hope.

"Me being in your life means that much to you?" Steve asks and Eddie decides that Steve deserves to know without the slightest doubt.

"It means everything."

"But you're afraid that... if you let me in, you'll hurt me?"

"That's what I do."

Steve hums as he processes this.

"Have you ever thought that maybe the butterfly needs the hurricane to fly because it needs the wind under its wings?"

He beams at Eddie after saying this, as if he has cracked the case, and his hands settle over Eddie's, still cupping his face. Eddie wants to argue with him, but the more he thinks about it, the more he starts to think that Steve is right.

"You changed my life too. Without you, I might never have kissed a boy. Without you, I might be working meaningless jobs until I retire instead of finally doing what I wanted to do in life and applying to community college to become a teacher. Without you, I might still be living under my parents' thumb, never standing up for myself."

"They kicked you out, you had to couch hop for months," Eddie argues, but it only makes Steve smile brighter, his thumbs rubbing soothingly along the back of Eddie's hand.

"Yes, I have, but Eddie, don't you see? You help me fly! You make it easy to fly because your wind carries me."

And Eddie never looked at it that way. Maybe he has to start.

He'll have to think about it without Steve's beautiful face in front of him and his warm, tempting body inches from his own. But he already feels something loosening in his chest, his heart lighter than before.

Kissing Steve gently, as gently as a summer breeze, he links their hands and pulls Steve back to the bed. They slide under the covers, the hurricane enveloping the butterfly in it's warm embrace.

Maybe the hurricane can be loved by the butterfly, Eddie thinks as he drifts off, wrapped around Steve.

Stranger things have happened.

#steddie #steddie fanfiction #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things fanfiction #steddielovemonth #day 15 #love is letting yourself be loved #my writing

[upsidedownsmore]

ENTRIES CLOSED, reblogs turned off, thank you everyone for entering and sharing your wonderful works!!

A compilation of every entry piece can be found here!

The winner is @mugbearerscorner and the information has been confirmed in DMs!!

Roll proof:

A link to the full spreadsheet of entries can be found here!

I'm so so grateful to all the people who participated in this event!! I'm so happy with how well it turned out and I'm so so thankful to be able to host it!!! Love you all!! :) :) :)

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

GAUSS PRIME ACCESS GIVEAWAY!

* Provided by Digital Extremes! Info about the prime access here.

To enter, simply reblog with your art of ANY warframe giving a thumbs up!

Giveaway entries will close on FEBRUARY 10TH at 10:00pm CST

The post for the above drawing (with reference screenshot and wips) can be found here.

MORE INFO UNDER THE READ LINE, PLEASE READ IT IF YOU WANT TO ENTER

Notes:

This is not a contest! The winner will be decided entirely randomly, image quality will have no effect on chances of winning! Make whatever you can in any medium you want! (This can also include 3D mediums! The only thing I'm not including is unedited game screenshots/captura, though edited might be okay). Everyone can draw regardless of how good you think your own skills are!

Please submit your own drawing(s)!! Only one is necessary but you can make more if you want of course! Do not use any AI generation tools for your entry.

When reblogging it might be a good idea to enter some text either in the post or in the tags! It turns out reblogs with just an image and nothing else might not show up under the original post, which means I might miss your submission!

Only one entry per person, you will not get more entries for additional reblogs and/or drawings.

The goal of this is for the community to have a fun little gallery of warframe thumb ups in the reblogs, but again don't stress over how "good" your drawing is! As long as you have fun and submit something vaguely in line with the prompt you're good! (such as a wave instead of a thumbs up or an operator instead of a warframe, etc. Up to you how closely you want to follow the prompt!)

You DO NOT need to engage with me in any other way (likes, follows, etc.) to enter, just a reblog with a drawing loosely following the prompt!

This giveaway will only run here on Tumblr due to issues with bots and impersonation on Twitter. The issue of course is that the only way to submit images under a single post on Tumblr is through reblogs, but please know that I do not intend this to be a means of promotion. If people could submit images in the replies I would gladly take that option! If this post gets taken down I will look into other giveaway options.

As this is my first giveaway as a Warframe creator please let me know if I've made any mistakes!

Here are some example drawings that would all work, but of course whatever you want to make shouldn't be limited to this!

Inspired by @ritens, I will be assigning one unique number per individual and then throwing them into the random number generator on random.org. After the entries close and I roll the winner, I will update this post with the winner's name and a message saying that the giveaway is closed. Reblogs will also be turned off once the giveaway is closed, as I am only using reblogs as means of congregating drawing submissions under one post during the giveaway period.

Whoever's number get's chosen will be contacted via DMs here on Tumblr, so please make sure your DMs are open! I will be asking for your Warframe IGN and platform so DE can give send over your prize! If you have cross-save linked or merged then please tell me, though I will also be asking in DMs as well. If the winner doesn't respond within 48 hours or no longer wants the prime access pack, then I will roll a new winner with the same method but with the previous winner(s) number(s) taken out of the pool.

Topmost drawing without giveaway text:

Anyways good luck and most importantly have fun!!

#free wf pa #warframe #gauss prime #my art #warframe gauss prime #UpsideDownSmore's art #warframe fanart #gauss prime access #wf tag #wf #warframe gauss #can't believe i can do one of these now woah #still absolutely surreal #probably way too much effort for this lol #but it was good practice at least and i'm really happy with the result! #praying this works i've spent too long cobbling this together lol #UpsideDownSmore's free wf pa's

[shygirl4991]

Chapter 5 Grand Sleepover

Art done by @alianarepasa do not repost Summary:  After the event of Splits into Three everything felt like things were back to normal, that is until Three’s boyfriend kicks down his front door announcing he has fallen under the same spell he did. Together they will learn the secret of the cherry potion and with SMG4 splits put an end to the evil gang's plan.  Sequel to Split into Threes

Last Chapter Next Chapter

Tags: Fluff, Angst, Comedy, Romance, action and adventure, Trauma, IGBP

SMG4 sighs as he waves the crew goodbye, they all agree to come by another day to help with the personalities. Once gone he turns to see Three talking with Artist, he watches as the personality glows with excitement over whatever his boyfriend was telling him. He takes out his sketchbook and runs to the others, with a nod Three walks up to four “We need to make rooms for them to stay at right now, after all you do have an empty second floor you're still working on.” 

Four nods as he throws himself to his partner “This is going to be a long couple of days…at least the bright side of the day was the gloves and your delicious cherry coffee!” SMG3 gets tense as he gently lifts Fours head to look at him. Trying to remain calm and collected  he asked the question he feared “Did you drink a full cup of cherry coffee?” he should have known this was the reason, why didn't it hit him sooner.  Three only had a sip and his three personalities were a lot, SMG4 got six, thinking on it more he starts to remember what book told him which only got the guardian concerned for his boyfriend.  Four gives him a bright smile “Of course you make great coffee!” Artist hums doodling the rooms when he notices Delinquent removing his gloves and glaring at them, slowly he approaches “D im collecting room ideas, busy?” The personality hides the gloves and turns before writing his thoughts down. He rips the page out and hands it to Artist, taking the paper and seeing his idea Artist smiles softly “Tonight lets have some fun, you in?” Delinquent gives Artist a look before noticing a smirk looking at him then at three. He lets out a low chuckle “Ah…well if the others want to then you know i'm all for it,” for once Delinquent was excited for something other then his plans. 

With a nod, Artist keeps doodling the rooms and goes off to ask the rest. Delinquent watches as the group starts shaking the Artist to hurry and draw their room.  His eyes then landed on his original and Three, he saw Three face go pale causing him to tilt his head “Wonder what those two are doing?” Three takes Four hands and walks to the bedroom, once the door is slammed he starts looking around the room. Four stares at his partner confused “Uh Three what are you looking for?” Three sighs standing up and giving him a sheepish smile “So the cherry coffee, you were never meant to drink it.” he sighs sitting on the bed. He touches the pins “Drinking the coffee i notice the cherry flavor, then next thing i know bam i have three versions of myself. So I put the coffee in the fridge to figure shit out later! How did you even get your hands on it?” 

Four blinks and slowly points at the spade pin “I…did the others know? I went to the fridge and got the coffee. Spade said it was okay for me to take it, are you saying you drank random cherry coffee which started all this?!” Three rolled his eyes. Getting up from the bed he glares at his boyfriend “OH YEAH I JUST DECIDED OH LOOK FREE COFFEE MIGHT AS WELL FUCKING DRINK IT!” Anger was building up in four as he stomps up to three “THEN HOW DO YOU EXPLAIN THE CHERRY IN THE COFFEE IF YOU DON'T HAVE ANY CHERRY COFFEE IN YOUR PLACE!” Three stays silent, his eyes go wide “Your right!” he walks out of the room with Four chasing him “Where are you going?!” three stops at the door and turns to four “To check my coffee machine.” He pulls at the door and stares at it confused, he pushes the door, still the door did not want to open. The personalities turn and walk up to the door, Ringmaster chuckles “Door trouble?” Prince gently pushed Three away and attempted to open the door “The door..is stuck?” 

Four walks up shaking the door, seeing the door didn't open he ran to a window and attempted to open it. He blinks realizing even the window wouldn't open “GUYS!? EVEN THE WINDOWS WON'T OPEN!” They all scattered trying to find an exit.After a while Delinquent sighs kicking the front door, to his surprise it swung open “Hey look at that i manage to fix the door,” everyone stops and turns looking at the door confused. Four look at Delinquent then the door “How the hell?” Three runs out of the castle to his cafe without a second thought, once inside he starts to investigate his machines. He opens the coffee machine and gasps seeing what's inside the machine, it was pink liquid, he knew it was risky but had to know. He reaches towards the liquid only to be stopped when he hears the cafe door open, he closes the machine and gives a small smile at Four. “Still looking, when I find out anything you will be the first one to know blue!” 

Four nods as he looks back at the castle then at Three “Hey…what happened at the castle, that was weird huh?” Three nods “Yeah, it's almost like something didn't want us to see something.” Seeing Four’s eyes flicker to a different color made Three approach Four “Hey blue, i get the anxiety but we got this!” SMG4 grabs Three’s hand “You told me a gang were after your personalities…what if thats what happened back there?” Three pulls Four closer to him. Slowly he wraps his free arm around the man, he thinks over his boyfriend's words as he stares at the castle “I don't think so, these guys have no idea about you yet. Trust me if they knew about you guys they would be at our front door.” Something did rub Three the wrong way, how did the whole castle end up locked up like that. Even more strange, why did everything open the moment Delinquent opened the door?

Before he could think more on it an explosion was heard over at the castle, they exchanged a look before running over. Artist sighs at the mess of paint all over the second floor, Ringmaster smirks, proud of the paint explosion he made. Prince grab’s Artist holding the man back “YOU DUMBASS WHAT DID YOU DO TO MY PAINT!” Ringmaster turns, giving him a smirk “Showing you what true art looks like.” Delinquent looks around at the mess “It looks more like Depresso came in here and vomited.” 

Ringmaster glares at the orange man “What? No, I painted each corner that belongs to each of us!” Artist lets out a bitter chuckle “You moron, the colors are everywhere where do any of us go when you have green mixed with White!” SMG3 and Four run up stairs to see the mess of paint everywhere. The personalities noticing them all point towards Ringmaster, he lets out a gasp at how fast the others sold him out. Three sighs walking up to Artist “Let me have the room plans, the cherry hunt can wait for now.” He hands over the plans as Three puts on a hard hat, the others walk away to stand next to four. Seeing this SMG4 turns to Ringmaster “I dont get why you have to bother Artist so much,” Ringmaster scoffs at the comment “Artist thinks he is better than me, i was here first the good days of memewarts!” Four frowns and watches Artist angrily pick up his paint cans from the floor. At that moment he felt something toward the Artist, he walked over helping with cleaning up the paint “We will get you more paint, or maybe take a break from painting…i recently picked up digital art.” Artist eye glow as he leans closer to Four “I can try digital? Hehe my power grows,” Artist laughs to himself worrying Four.

Delinquent frowns watching the interaction, Producer seeing the frown takes Delinquent's hand.  The man turns to look confused at the personality “He cares for us…i…he has to right?” Delinquent could only let out a hum as he turned his attention to SMG3. The man looks over the plans and claps his hands, a white light takes over making everyone cover their eyes. The moment the group looked again six rooms were built, they gaps as they walk up to their door. Artist giggles touching the name plate “Our Mcdreamy has some skills under his belt huh?” “Not impressed,” was all Delinquent said before going in the room and locking it, with a sigh they all thank Three and walk into their room. Three smiles and gentle pats Fours back “It is getting late, you should join them and rest. Hopefully that nightmare doesn't come back, if it does though i'm right next door.” Four nods and they both leave to rest. Artist peeks out the door watching the pair leave, the moment they are gone he begins his plan. Walking to his sewing machine, Artist starts looking over the room plans “Now, let's make some fun pajamas shall we. Wonder what everyone requested, hehe.”  

Once done, Artist visits every room handing out a package, he changes into his own colorful pj’s. He walks down stairs waiting to see everyone, his smile grows seeing each personality come out in their pj’s. Delinquent chuckles “Why are you so basic? Plaid really?” Ringmaster waves his hand “I'm not here to impress, Pajamas are for sleeping plus you're wearing a band shirt you're not that original!” Parent comes out excited over his pj’s, as he skips over to the group the rest stared in horror over his Beeg onesie. They turn to Artist who only gives them an apologetic smile.  Producer and Prince come out ready to show off their pj’s only to freeze seeing Parents onesie “I know it's just so cute right?” Prince pats Parents back “It's fantastic!” Delinquent makes a disgusted face as he keeps staring at the pj. That's when a light bulb lit up “Hey guys, in a way this is like one of those sleep overs the original always pictured. Why don't we make this night a fun one and prank SMG3,” he lets out a mischievous grin. Artist pulls Delinquent into a surprise hug “YES! LET'S DO IT!” all according to plan. 

The group plans their prank while Producer plays with the sleeves of his shirt “Guys…I don't know about this. What if we make him hate us? OH GOD WHAT IF HE GROWS TO HATE US AFTER THIS!?” Delinquent walks up to Producer, everyone relaxes hoping the man would help Producer relax “I would honestly love that.” Parent runs up to the shock Producer “uh hey kiddo i have an idea, let's play the don't listen to D game!” Parent keep distracting Producer and the rest finish up their plans. Now that the plan is done, the group sneaks over to the cafe and notices Three was awake. Artist snaps his fingers “Damn he is awake, I’m paintfully aware of my limitations so i wont know how to distract him.” they all look down lost in thought on how to distract the man.  Delinquent  sighs as he walks ahead of the group only to be stopped by Producer “I…i will do it.” The group stare at Producer in shock, with a shaky breath he walks into the cafe.

Three stares at his coffee machine nervously, he wasn't sure what would happen if he attempted to taste it. Would it bring them back? Would he risk it and anger them by bringing them back out? He hears the door open making him look away, there he sees Producer nervously messing with his sleeves again “Cute pj’s im guessing artist helped?” the personality nods as he walks closer to Three. He watches the personality, confused, he reaches out “Hey are you okay?” Producer then suddenly hugs him. Three smiles softly hugging the personality back, he then blushes “okay the hug is going on too long can we stop, not because i'm really enjoying it  or anything it’s just awkward!” Producer lets out a chuckle as he pulls away. The group watches waiting for their moment to sneak in, Delinquent  on the other hand blushes seeing the hug that happens. 

Producer shyly looks down “I uh…god please don't hate me for asking but…you're our boyfriend. You and the original kissed yeah? W-what is that like?” the group gasps at the question as their eyes move to Three to see what happens next. The heart pin glows as he gets closer to Producer “Are you asking to kiss me?” Producer’s face goes red as he starts to panic “AH THIS WAS SO STUPID I'M SORRY PLEASE DON'T HATE ME FORGET WHAT I SAID!” Three reaches out to Producer and gently caresses his face, the touch relaxes the man as he looks up confused “Then kiss me you silly, you're a part of blue. I love everything about him and that includes you.”  Delinquent bites his lip seeing the moment between them, his head started to hurt the more he watched. He takes a step back “uh guys we can sneak over here let's hurry!” The group nods slowly going through the door and sneak to the back to get into Three’s room. 

Producer was lost in Three’s eyes, he didn't notice the others running inside the cafe and starting their mission. The group take out their camera, Artist lets out an evil giggle getting Parent ready “Okay now use Beeg face to cover yours hehe we are going to make Three’s room a Beeg paradise!” Delinquent chuckles alongside artist as they take the photo and start decorating the room with it. Ringmaster chuckles as he opens the elevator “Alright guys let's go! While I won't get in trouble because I'm the star of the show, I can't lose my groupies!” Artist smacks him aside “Right like you would have anything like that.” Producer was feeling himself lose steam from all the flirting Three was doing, that was until the elevator ding caught threes attention. In a panic Producer grabs Three pulling him close, the group slowly sneak by to escape the cafe. Producer lets out a shaky breath “Please don't hate me..” before Three could ask anything Producer leans forward gently kissing Three. As the group celebrates making it out, Delinquent stares at Producer and Three kissing. A memory hit him making his face go red as he looked away, he had to remind himself of his mission as he followed the group to the castle. Producer attempts to fun off in a panic, Three then grabs him gently pulling him back “Hey PD its okay! Remember what I said, you're a part of blue, no matter what i will love all of you guys!” Producer looks down nervously thinking over his words. 

“Save him…please save D…he is fading away,” Producer closes his eyes, scared to see Three’s face. The heart pin stops glowing as Three gently lifts Producers face “What do you mean he is fading?” Producer lets out a shaky breath. He then looks into three’s eyes “You said you love all of us no matter what, save D no matter what please!” The Spade pin flickers as Three nods “I promise, when the morning gets here, i will talk to four and see why he would deny his jealous side.” Producer shakes his head “I can't say more but…D is more than just jealousy,” with a small smile he walks out of the cafe. SMG3 watches Producer leave “More…than jealousy, what else could he be?”

Producer catches up with the others as they celebrate their victory, the group get together in Artist room and watch movies. Producer looks at  Delinquent giving the man a soft smile, Delinquent nods and lets out a sigh. Over time the group falls asleep except Delinquent, he gets up and steps outside the castle to get blinded by the sun “Morning already huh?” a sharp pain hits him causing him to fall to his knees. SMG3 walks out of his cafe, he lets out an annoyed sigh at the fact his room was covered in strange beeg photos. He was impressed that producer managed to distract him for the others to pull the prank off. Delinquent notice Three and attempts to get away, he curses when he just ends up falling to the floor. The pain was becoming too much for the personality, he groaned trying to find something to help him. His eyes start to flicker as the pain gets worse, he lets out a scream catching SMG3 attention “Delinquent!” 

Three helps Delinquent up before checking on him “What happened? Are you okay?” the man's eye twitched before the pain stopped. He nods “I'm okay…” SMG3 lets out a sigh of relief, seeing how close they are he pushed Three away. That's when he realized he was alone with SMG3 “No one is around us…hehe hahaha!” Three looks at the man concerned, this wasn't how heart acted when he was fading “Hey uh everything alright?” Delinquent nods “I lost my hat, if you want to be a hero so badly want to help me find it?” he tilts his head giving chills to Three. With a nod they both walk away from the showgrounds, SMG3 didn't like the feeling he was getting from the personality in front of him. Delinquent was silent as they walked to an alleyway “I lost my hat in there,” everything about this screamed trap to Three. He nods as he pats Delinquent making the personality go first, he watches as Delinquent starts to look around. “I have something to ask, the way you fell down…are you fading away?”  Delinquent pauses. Slowly he stood up laughing, the laugh was dark, devoid of joy. He turns smiling at Three “OH! So you're going around putting things together!”

Three frowns walking closer to him “Delinquent..i want to trust and help you i'm not the bad guy.” Delinquent’s face twisted “BUT I AM!” a tentacle came from the ground swinging at Three, acting fast he jumps out of the way and glares at Delinquent. “That wasn't meme energy…that looked like…Delinquent what happened to you?” Delinquent laughs as he charges at Three. In a panic Three dodge and shoved Delinquent, the personality hits the gate door to the alleyway. The door falls off the hinge hitting a fire hydrant soaking the man.  SMG3 gasps at the sight, Delinquent slowly gets up laughing “DO YOU SEE WHAT HE MADE ME?!” The black paint was being washed off. After a few moments white hair was revealed, his orange pink eyes were now completely pink. 

“Delinquent…” distracted by the man's appearance, Three didn't notice another tentacle behind him. It swings slamming three to the ground, knocking him out cold. Delinquent walks up SMG3 moving his hair out of his face “I need you, you're the only one that knows the power and I would love to meet the real you.” He lifts up Three and walks into the shadows disappearing. 

#smg4 #smg3 #smg34 #shygirl4991 #smg4 smg3 #smg43 #smg34 fanfiction #split into threes #six splits for fours #alianarepasa

[goddessofroyalty]

Fandom: One Piece 

Pairing: Zoro/Sanji 

Tags: omegaverse, discussed-future-mpreg 

Someone shared a bit of non-omegaverse art in the ZoSan server of Zoro showering affection on Sanji’s stomach and it inspired me to write them talking about their future child in a verse where they agreed no pups until after they and Luffy achieve their dreams.

  -------------

Sanji lets out a huff as Zoro lays his head down against his stomach, one of the swordsman’s callused hands resting against what might one day become the peak of it as the other supports Sanji’s back as he enjoys his cigarette, blowing a puff of smoke out over the alpha’s head. The break in Sanji’s heat is nice even if they both know it will only last for a moment.  

“There isn’t anything in there moss,” Sanji says as Zoro’s thumb tickles against his skin. The necessary steps have been taken to ensure that for all their fucking no pup will result from this heat.  

“I know,” Zoro grunts, twisting his head and pressing a kiss against Sanji’s hip bone.  

“Once Luffy’s the Pirate King and I’m the world’s greatest swordsman and we’re living on your ocean,” Zoro continues, trailing kisses along Sanji’s hips as he recites the dreams they swore to achieve. “You’ll give me pups then right?”  

“I didn’t realise we agreed to pups plural?” Sanji jokes, more to try and keep himself from giving into the fantasy of it.  

“You know I could never be satisfied with just one. Not when it’s with you.” Zoro says, resting his forehead directly onto Sanji’s stomach, leaving him looking almost as if he’s praying over it. “You’ll even let some get my green hair right? And they’ll all get your eyebrows.” 

Sanji doesn’t know the last time he heard Zoro that excited. It reminds him of the headstrong alpha second in command on the pirate crew he decided to throw his lot into who had matured into his steadfast mate.  

“Maybe if you’re lucky.” Sanji hopes they do inherit the alpha’s hair. Oh he’ll bitch about it when it happens. Can’t let the mosshead’s ego get too large. But he now can’t think about his future children without at least one of them having coarse green hair and a stubborn attitude.  

Zoro grins up at him.  

“You will,” Zoro says, ducking his head back down to press a kiss against Sanji’s stomach, his hands grabbing at the omega’s hips. “You’re gonna’ look so fucking hot while you’re growing them as well.”  

Sanji does laugh at that.  

“I’m going to look like a waddling land-whale.” He doesn’t have the delicate curves of a lady which are only accentuated by pregnancy. Lacks their soft plump skin that glows with the life they are carrying.  

Zoro snorts at that.  

“You will not,” he says with a nip at Sanji’s hip. “You are going to look so good. So strong. Fuck I don’t know how I’m gonna’ keep my hands off you. All full with my pup. Hell I’ll fuck another one into you before you’re even finished growing the first.”  

“That’s-“ Impossible. And the idea of having pregnancies that overlap giving his body no time without one of Zoro’s children growing in him should be almost repulsive. Sanji is going to blame his heat for the fact he finds it weirdly insanely hot.  

“You’ll be great with them,” Zoro continues, uncaring of Sanji’s broken-off attempt at interruption. One of his hands coming up to grope at Sanji’s chest. “Gonna’ be feeding them from the moment they’re born. They won’t know shit food until they move out to take the world for themselves.”  

Of course they will. No matter what they decide their dream to be their children are bound to achieve it. Will have grown up learning from the best in so many fields. Never once doubting on their parents support for them.  

“Moss-“ Sanji says, running a hand through Zoro’s hair. He can feel his heat stir back to life under his skin and he’s pretty sure it’s affecting the alpha too. 

“Shit. I’m going to fuck you so good. Fill you with knot and my pups. Our strong healthy pups,” Zoro continues to babble.  

Strong pups that will be trained by the world’s greatest swordsman and fed on the abundance of fish in the All Blue. Who will never know real hunger and know that love and care is as important as training at being your best. Will learn to cook at Sanji’s side and take afternoon naps with Zoro.  

“Fuck – I need you to shut up now,” Sanji says, his grip on Zoro’s hair tugging the alpha up off him.  

Zoro gives a questioning hum like he isn’t aware of what he’s fucking doing.  

Sanji pulls him up by the hair for a kiss before he can open his stupid mouth again.  

“You need to shut the fuck up and fuck me,” Sanji orders. Because if the bastard keeps going Sanji might not be able to stay strong on their agreement that they weren’t going to have pups until all their dreams were achieved.  

Zoro grins at him like he knows but his hands grab at Sanji’s thighs as he does as he’s commanded.  

#One Piece #ZoSan #roronoa zoro #zoro x sanji #vinsmoke sanji #blackleg sanji #omegaverse #One Piece omegaverse #mpreg #One Piece mpreg #black leg sanji #I accidenly a ficlet

[shunshunrika]

Your Midnights, My Daylight - Prologue

art: Yuta - sso_s__ (Twitter), Gojo - unknown

Chapter List

a/n: hmm so, title credits to Tay-Tay for sure. This might turn out to be angstier than expected so hold on fellas! This is just the prologue.

warnings/tags: modern au! Gojo x f! reader x Yuta, profanity, alcohol consumption, love triangle

“You’re so beautiful.” 

A pair of azure blue eyes reflected your awe-struck face as they narrowed and formed smiling crescents.

“You really are.”

You remembered the first time Satoru hinted at embers of attraction for you crackling inside him. He was subtle about it but you knew, after all, you had begun to feel something within as well. It was gut instinct. Chemistry. A union meant to be.

Laying side by side on his bed, you touched the young, ethereal man’s face, cupped his cheek and let him know that there was no one else but him for you, no one. He would smile at you, with an expression as sweet as honey and cage you in his arms, stroking your hair. His slender and careful fingers would weave through your locks and put you to sleep with ease as you drifted into dreams, your head tucked away safely under his chin. You were his. All his. That’s what he told you, didn’t he?

Then why?

Why was he dancing in the dim, ugly blue lights of this dreary party, groping her hips and stroking her hair?

You wished you could leave before you witnessed them share a kiss. You wished. Now all the alcohol swimming in your system was threatening to make a reappearance through your mouth. A mutual friend of yours and Satoru’s, Nanami steadied you with a respectful hand. 

“You okay there, Y/N? Too much to drink?” he asked, making sure you don’t stumble or throw up on his expensive clothes. 

“I-I am— uh, fine” you manage to say, throat drying up quicker than you can swallow your spit. It hurts. It burns. You can’t tell if it’s the alcohol or seeing Satoru and some bitch practically eating each other. 

“What the hell is he doing?” you turn to Nanami now. He would know, surely. They are good friends after all. But Nanami looks just as confused as you do, in fact, he looks noticeably uncomfortable. He takes a moment to phrase his answer before sighing and dropping it on you.

“I did say Gojo has tendencies. I warned you.”

Your eyes go wide and you claw at Nanami’s shirt. 

“What the hell, Nanami?” you spit out. “I-I thought. But he told me that he—”

“I am sorry Y/N.” he says, avoiding eye contact and pulling you away from his shirt. Damn his expensive shirt. You will definitely throw up on him. “It’s just how it is.” 

“What do you mean? You’ve seen him. You’ve all seen him for months! You see how he is with me!” You plead. Who are you trying to convince? Nanami? Megumi, who noticed you yell and is walking over to check? Or yourself?

Can you really trust yourself when you so easily trusted when Satoru told you, “There’s no one but you for me, Y/N.”

"He told you guys that he's dating me now right? He said he's going to make it official!" you say desperately hoping to get some sort of positive response from Nanami but he just purses his lips.

"I am so sorry, Y/N." he says. "He said he never had feelings for you."

Just like that, days would pass. Weeks. Months.

It would take endless days of crying, self-doubt, hiding from friends and peers, rejecting everyone and rejecting yourself. It would take so much more to get yourself back. To look at yourself again and smile again.

You were now over it, over the whole concept of love. Done with men. Completely. You didn't want to see any other guy and definitely not another shade of blue.

When you finally down your first drink, months after that incident, you get a good rant out of you, telling some poor man who was beside you just how filthy and blasphemous men are. You can't trust your memory influenced by alcohol but pretty sure the man had a weird name.. Okk.. Okkot.. Occult?

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #fluff #angst #smut #gojo satoru #anime #manga #fanfiction #nanami kento #yuta okkotsu #okkotsu yuuta #x reader #x female reader #x y/n #x you #headcanon #imagines #scenarios #drabbles #megumi fushiguro

[floydsteeth]

new oc!!!! Meet Odilia Elodie Lucinenne Abreo

Info on her down here (still a w.i.p will be updated as i go(im lazy ok and over excited to show her off even if shes underdeveloped))

Pairing: Leon (might change)

Age: 30

Backstory(kinda): Odilia is the youngest of 4, daughter of to earl Guillaume Abreo, having grown up in a loving household she was lucky enough to have an identical education as her brothers quickly excelling in math, science and gaining a huge fascination for astronomy, a field which was rather under developed in rhodolite. While yes her education was identical to her brothers, being a lady meant along with her tutor she had a governess teaching her of the more lady like things, the extra hours of learning were exhausting but she gained a love for the arts, and learned how to paint as well. At a young age she had managed to succour a position in an academy in the capital, her family residing closer to the border with bentonite, moving to the capital expecting only to stay for a few years, before moving back home to be married so she throw herself into her studies, she viewed these as her only years of freedome not being pressured to marry or debut in society, at the academy she started learning more literature and philosophy but her passions still lied in math and astronomy, she was surprised when she was given the opportunity to continue her studies in astronomy in rhodolites palace, she quickly accepted this opportunity thinking it would never happen again and seeing this as a way out of any possible arranged marriages. Living in the palace meant access to the library a place where she'd like to spend most of her time, but having only ever heard rumors of prince Chevalier she wasnt particularly enthusiastic to bump into him, but living in the palace makes it impossible to fully avoid the princes's. Even though she came to the palace for an education and an opportunity to start her research she quite enjoys the balls and social evwnts happening st the palace, realising that being a lady of science doesnt mean giving up being a lady of status as well, she will put her status of being a lady above her status of being a scholar, that doesnt mean she takes being a scholar any less seriously infact she takes it much more seriously for that reason, she needs to work less to be seen as a lady as she does a scholar.

Her relationship with leon: i honestly have no idea how they'd get together or why, i need to finish Leon's route :P

personality: shes a very headstrong, determind and confident woman, shes focused and goal oriented, curious and quite hardworking. she's social but not overly talkative, polite, perceptive and opinionated.

-More will be added soon-

@olivermorningstar @solacedeer @m-mmiy @keithsandwich @lorei-writes

Because i feel like you guys would wanna be tagged

#ikepri #ikemen fanart #Ikepri oc #Ikepri odilia #ikemen prince #Honestly i should of probably waited to writw more before postinf about her #I just got really really excited :P #ikemen oc #And pairing her with leon is kinda somwthing i did on a whim #I could just not pair her with someone sure #But i wanna #My oc i decide who she kisses #And like i said #Need to finish leons route before i fully decide if i want her to he with leon #Cause my perception of him is kinda flat #Uhm some people wanted to be tagged in this right? #Uhhh #Ok lemme remember who :^ #Also yes her name is a mouth full #No im not sorry #I fucking love giving ocs middle names #Middle names can be great for silly little things #Sorry its a bit short #Im bad at making character profiles #I made most of this up as i was writing

[jujutsukatsuki]

Warnings: SMUT, MINORS DNI, throatfucking, spitting, gagging, messy makeup, soft kiri <3

Smut will be under the cut!

Sometimes things don’t work out, plans fall through, people flake, or your boyfriend since freshman year of high school decides to dump you via text when you were waiting for him at the coffee shop you always met at when you and him got off work.

So here you are, sitting in this little café, crying into your ceramic cup full of espresso that has foam art of a heart. You sniffle as you sit in the booth. It didn’t help that today was already awful. You flunked a test you stayed up all night studying for cause life would be too easy to let you have one thing go right today. Your AP literacy teacher seemed to have a burning hatred for you and you had cracked your phone screen.

If you weren’t spending thousands on college and already in your last year, you might have quit today.

Your only saving grace? The cute barista who you’d come to know as Eijiro Kirishima. He had covered your drink when you realized that your wallet was at home sitting on your coffee table.

You barely touched the cup of coffee he had spent time making just for you, even adding the cute heart on top. Instead you chose to keep your head in your hands as you stared at the table blankly, tears falling from your face into the coffee, ruining the art.

Kirishima bussed a few tables before he got to you.

“Y/n?” He asked softly as he put a hand on your shoulder. You sniffled and looked up at him, a white towel was throwing over the tight black shirt he wore. A black apron covered the front of his body. You took notice of a couple pins he had on the front. A pin from a hero movie, crimson riot or something, you couldn’t remember the actual name. A pin that read He/Him, his name tag that had a pink smiley face sticker along with his title of Assistant Manager for X amount of years on it and a pin that read ‘Ask me about my favorite coffee!’

“Y/n?” He asked again as he knelt down a bit to be eye level with you.

“Sorry, yeah, what’s up Kirishima?” You wiped the black stained tears from your cheeks.

“What’s wrong? Are you alright?”

Your bottom lip quivered, fresh tears pricked your eyes, face was hot with embarrassment and sadness.

“M-my boyfriend broke up with me over text.” You covered your mouth with your hand and let out a muffled sob. Kiri’s eyes held an emotion you couldn’t pinpoint. Pity? Genuine concern? You weren’t sure.

“I’m so sorry to hear that, that’s so unmanly of him.” He wrapped you in a tight bear hug. You wrapped your arms around him tight and cried into his chest.

Eijiro ended up taking his break so he could comfort you while his co-worker, Shoto, covered. He listened to you vent about your problems and frustrations, you actually drank the new coffee that Kiri brought over for you this time, he didn’t want you to drink a coffee that was probably 85% your tears at that point.

He sat next to you and held your hand as you cried into his shoulder.

“I mean, nearly eight years.” You cried. “I thought him and I were gonna get married.” Kirishima rubbed your back slowly as he listened, he didn’t talk, just listened and god it felt nice.

“To tell you the truth, I never liked him much.” Eijiro said once you had calmed down, tears slowly falling less and less.

“Why?” You sniffled and looked up at him.

“He was super bossy and didn’t tip well.” Kiri joked to try and cheer you up. You let out a small laugh.

“He was like that wasn’t he?” You brushed some hair behind your ear and wiped your face with the sleeve of your jacket.

“I don’t want to tell you that everything is going to be okay because I don’t know if it will. But what I can tell you is that you’re such a good, kind, genuine person and anyone is lucky to have you. You’re truly a gift Y/n. And you’re really pretty.” He smiled

Your face felt warm as he said that. “Thanks Kiri. And thank you for listening, I really needed that today.”

“Anytime.” He smiled at you with a big toothy grin.

He got back to work after that, only after he gave you his number if you needed anything of course and you went home to kick your boyfriend out of the apartment.

Only you came home to him having sex with your best friend in the bed the two of you shared. Honestly, you didn’t even care at that point. You calmly gathered all your things, told him to have a nice life and that you were telling the landlord about him smoking weed in the apartment all the time.

With no where to go and a car full of stuff, your brain went on auto pilot. You ended up in front of the coffee shop. It was now pouring rain outside, thunder and lightening were brewing in the sky.

Your eyes held a blank gaze as you stared straight ahead. A soft knock came from your passenger window, it made you jump as you unlocked the door after seeing a familiar red head.

“Y/n? Are you okay?” Kiri asked as he climbed into the passenger seat, he was no longer wearing his apron and the tight black shirt he wore clung even tighter to his body thanks to the rain. His normal spikes of hair were now hanging down in his face.

You sat and told Kiri about what happened once you had got home. His jaw dropped as he heard about what you walked into you. He invited you to stay with him for the night.

Little did you know that one night was gonna change everything.

That was all a year ago. You’ve been living in Kirishima’s guest room ever since.

Currently you were making dinner, Kirishima was gonna be home soon from work and you decided to make his favorite meal that you knew how to cook. Homemade chicken Alfredo.

The front door’s lock jiggled as he unlocked the door and walked in.

“Y/n, I’m home.” He hummed as he dropped his work backpack next to the house and took his shoes off.

“In the kitchen Eiji!” You called out as you were mixing the noodles and sauce.

“Hey.” He smiled as he kissed the back of your head before he grabbed a soda from the fridge.

“Did you have a good day at work?” You asked as you put the noodles to simmer on a low heat.

“It was alright, had a few Karens. What about your day?”

You smiled softly as you looked at him. A black bandana was holding his hair back from his face, he had a smile that reached his eyes as he inquired about your day.

Suddenly it dawned on you how domestic you and him were. How he’d come home and kiss your head, how you’d snuggle into his side as you watch a tv show together, how he’d carry you to your bed and kiss your forehead as he tucked you in. How he’d come up behind you when you were with his friends and wrap his arms around your waist, head on your shoulder.

You were in love with your roommate and best friend.

As you two sat in the couch eating dinner, your legs were over his lap, head resting against his thick biceps. Your thoughts were full of details about Kirishima that you could get rid of. The small scar above his eye he got from jumping through a window when he was a kid, the tattoos that decorated his inner arms, a few comic book heroes and anime characters he loved, the way he instantly relaxed under your touch. You noticed how much Kiri loved touching you. He was always the first one to hold you close to him or kiss your head.

You kept staring at him from the corner of your eye, enough that he caught your gaze.

“You okay, sweet girl?” He asked as he reached out and gently wiped a bit of sauce from the corner of your lips with his thumb. Your face was suddenly very hot as you slowly nodded, he wiped his thumb on a napkin.

“You seem quieter tonight are you sure you’re alright?”

“Kiri, do you…” You stopped to think about your phrasing before you decided to come out and say it.

“Do you like me?”

He cocked his head to the side like a confused puppy.

“Yeah of course, you’re like my best friend.” He smiled a bit

“No I mean like… romantically.”

Kiri’s cheeks went bright red as he stuttered out a answered.

“Is- uh.. Is it okay if I say yes?” He nervously cleared his throat as he chewed on his bottom lip, adam’s apple bobbing up and down as he gulped.

“Yeah of course! I just, I realized that.. maybe I’ve always known and I was just scared but I don’t want to ruin anything and you’re just so sweet and I’m worried that I’m not good enough for you but I like you like that an-“

He cupped your cheek with his huge hand and kissed you. It was such a polite way to shut you up. You kissed back, hands finding the shirt he wore and clutching it in your hands. His lips were soft against yours, his actions were gentle as his other hand held the back of your neck.

The kiss was broken when you both needed air. Lips were swollen and red, faces were warm and the only noise was that of soft panting.

“I’ve been waiting to do that for a while.” He smiled as his thumb stroked your cheek.

“How long?” You questioned

“Since the very first day you walked into the coffee shop and ordered a hot chocolate and a croissant.“ Your face seemed to get even warmer.

“You remembered what I ordered?”

Kirishima chuckled as he nodded.

“Yeah, you asked for four pumps of extra chocolate in the drink because sometimes it wasn’t a strong enough taste for you. Plus you gave me like a 15 dollar tip.”

You laughed and Kirishima fell deeper in love with you at the sound you made. His smile grew as he watched you.

That night you laid in your bed, tossing and turning as you thought of the revelations from tonight. You loved him and he loved you. Now what the fuck do you do?

You shoved the blankets off you and got up, slipping on the bunny slippers that Kiri got for you last Christmas. You opened your door only to come face to face with him. His red hair was down in his face as he looked like he hadn’t slept yet.

“What are we?” The two of you said in sync. Both of you couldn’t help but laugh a little.

“What do you want?” Kiri asked as he placed a hand on your upper arm before it slid down to grab your hand.

“You.” You whispered softly as you gently squeezed his hand.

“I want you too.” He smiled tiredly

“So.. does that mean we’re dating?” You asked for confirmation.

“I guess it does.” He kissed your forehead and squeezed your hand.

“Let me take you on a date tomorrow- er, later tonight?” He chuckled

“Oh yeah? Where are we gonna go?”

“Not sure yet but I’ll pick you up at seven?” He grinned

“I’ll make sure I’m ready by then.” You moved to wrap your arms around his neck.

“If I’m a few minutes late it’s cause my super cute roommate takes forever to get ready.” He teased

“I do not!” You laugh, Kiri reached down and picked you up by your thighs. You gasped, your slippers falling off in the process

“Eiji!”

“What?” He hummed as he stole you away to his room.

“I can walk you know.” You yawn softly, sleep already starting to pull you under.

“I know.” He yawned after you did. He laid down in his bed and laid you next to him. You could see in Kiri’s eyes that he was seconds from sleep. By the time you pulled the blanket over you two, he was out. You snuggled into his chest, it was a perfect fit like you two were made for each other.

One of his hands rested on your thigh, the warm feeling made butterflies in your stomach as sleep became an anchor chained to your ankle yanking you down through the waves of tranquility.

It was your first big date with Eijiro, you put on a nice black dress that hugged your figure in a way that made you feel confident with a deep v neck line that showed off your cleavage and a pair of red heels. Thankfully the dress stopped about mid knee level so it showed off the heels.

You weren’t sure where you and him were going, only that he told you to dress fancy. He looked very handsome in a black suit with a red tie. He grinned like a mad man when he saw you. His large hands found your waist as you snaked your arms around his neck, fingers grazing the hair of his undercut.

“Baby, you look-” He cuts himself off as he moves you to do a little twirl for him. Kiri’s eyes rake over your figure before his eyes meet yours as you twirl back to face him. The smile on his face reaches his eyes, he's looking at you like you’re the love of his life, like you’re a gift to this world.

To him, you are all of those.

Dinner goes well, Eijiro tells you stories that have happened at work recently, you tell him about what you’re learning at college. The entire time he looks at you as if you put the stars in the sky.

He’s so in love with you, it hurts.

🛑 Smut under cut 🛑

After dinner was the fun part. It wasn’t the first time you two did it. But this would be the first time that the two of you were going to have needy, messy sex. Your hands were all over each other, grasping at clothing and skin until your clothes were in balls on the floor.

“Fuck baby, you’re so pretty on your knees.” Kiri panted softly as he looked at you. His lips were swollen with light stains of the lipstick you had worn, his pupils were huge, lust blown. His hand cups your cheek as he stands in front of you, one hand gripping the base of his cock. The tip is red and leaky with dribbles of pre cum.

“Thank you daddy.” You smile and stick out your tongue, his cock is huge. Youre not sure how youre gonna fit the monster in your mouth, the only hope you had was how well he fit in your cunt. Eijiro grins as he smacks the tip of his cock against your tongue.

“Such a messy girl.” He whispers as he licks his lips in anticipation. You slowly take every inch of his cock down your throat, you get about half way before your mouth feels extremely full.

Eijiro lets out a soft groan as his hands tangle in your hair. He bucks his hips into your mouth. Needy. Wanting. He’s doing everything he can to chase his high. You pull back for a moment to talk to him, saliva drips down your chin.

“You can fuck my throat Daddy.”

His brain malfunctions over your words, with one hand he puts his cock back into your mouth as the other has your hair gripped tightly. You let your jaw remain slack as he started to thrust into your mouth.

The feel of your throat gripping his cock is the most euphoric. Drool drips down your chin to between your breasts. The feeling of your gagging satisfies him, the way you clench around his cock. Between your legs is slick, your thighs stick together as you rub them together for friction. You let out a whine as you make eye contact with him, he thrusts harder down your throat, causing you to gag again. This time he holds your head down, nose buried in his neatly trimmed happy trail.

The gagging is what’s pushing him over the edge, he reaches down and wraps his hand around your throat. He can feel himself buried inside. Your head feels light, but it feels too good to tap him on the thigh and make him stop. Without warning, his cum floods down your throat, making you instantly start swallowing.

His breathing is harsh as he pulls out, muscles in his thighs are lightly jerking and a few spurts of cum find their way on your lips and chest.

“Fuck.” He curses as he looks at you, makeup smeared around your face, lips red and puffy, cum dripping down your skin. He can’t help but add to the mix with his spit before he smears the mixture all over your cheeks and mouth.

“So fucking pretty. Gonna make such a mess of you.” He smirks as he lifts you up and lays you on the bed. You have a feeling that the neighbors are gonna have a noise complaint to give your landlord, but in that moment, you couldn’t give a fuck. You were about to be obliterated by your boyfriend's huge cock, and that’s all that mattered to you.

#Eijiro Kirishima #Kirishima Eijiro #Eijiro #Kirishima #My Hero Academia #boku no hero academia #Eijiro Kirishima x reader #kirishima eijiro x reader #eijiro x reader #Kirishima x reader #my hero academia x reader #boku no hero academia x reader #eijiro kirishima x reader smut #Kirishima eijiro x reader smut #eijiro x reader smut #Kirishima x reader smut #my hero academia x reader smut #boku no hero academia x reader smut #mha x reader #mha x reader smut #bnha x reader #bnha x reader smut #Kirishima smut #eijiro Kirishima smut #bnha #mha #My hero academia smut #boku no hero academia smut #eijiro smut #red riot

[axcel-lucci]

Counterparts.

Human! Trafalgar Law x fem!reader x demon! Trafalgar Law.

<== parts ==>

A/n: I had too much fun. There might be art 3? I'm not sure. Also to the anon and cutie star that req, I can't tag ya cause I can't find ya, sorry 🥲

Tags: @supercutiestar (I tried)

My masterlist

Law had to go to an important meeting where he had to fly out for a few days. It was some sort of meeting with the board...

He didn't want to leave (y/n) alone with the demon that stays around even after the sex the other day.

"Don't worry Law, I'll be fine" she kissed him as she held his hand.

"Oi. You" Law frowned at Trafalgar who was silently eating pistachios in the background, "you know our agreement."

"Don't worry." The demon swore

"What agreement?" (Y/n) asked

"That I'd only fuck your ass so that I wouldn't get you pregnant." The demon answered slightly before walking off to grab some soda.

"Don't worry, I'll be back in three days." Law smiled and kissed her forehead, "I love you"

"I love you too sweetie" she smiled and waved to him as he got in his taxi and drove off.

That night, as she was washing the dishes, Trafalgar walked up to her and hugged her from behind, "heeyyyyy do you still have some pistachios??"

"You ate them all" she laughed

"What! I did??" The demon muttered as she rolled her eyes

"Yes you did." She smiled

"Hmm..." he huffed and crossed his arms, "can I eat you instead?" He casually said making her cough in shock

"What are you talking about?" She laughed

"I mean... I won't fuck your pussy raw, but I will fuck your ass so hard I can fit my hand inside" Trafalgar shrugged before pulling out some anal beads that looked too big to even fit, "well?"

"No" she huffed a bit.

"Pretty please?" The demon whined before pulling on her pajama shorts

"No. End of discussion"

"Hmm..." the demon huffed before pushing his hand inside her shorts and suddenly plunged them inside her unready backside

"Trafalgar!" She moaned slightly as he continued to finger her ass so good she didn't even feel him remove her shorts and panties and throw them somewhere

His other hand parted her ass cheeks to see how four of his fingers could already fit inside.

He pulled his fingers out real quick to apply some lube and shove it back in making her moan once more and drip her wetness all over the floor under her.

"Relax..." he smirked before starting to push his whole hand inside her ass making her gasp at the movement until his whole fist was inside, "see... that wasn't that bad"

"H-how is that- ah...! Possible...?" She moaned as he started to push the rest of his arm in until it can no longer go in, so he just started pushing his fist in and out of her ass.

He could feel how her wall clenched and twitched, the sound of her wetness dripping sounded so good to him as he basically have her leaned against the sink, moaning for more.

She finally came and was tired beyond compare.

He pulled his arm out and saw the big hole he left.

He carried her over to their bedroom and had her lay on the bed with her chest against the mattress and her ass up in the air.

"Good thing I convinced that husband of yours to buy me some things..." he smirked

He started off by pushing in one by one what seemed to be rubber balls and making her push them out, then using the beads from earlier to slowly push them in and suddenly pulling out at once and doing it again.

Until he reached what he wanted to play with. A big dildo that even his fingers can't touch each other when he held it.

"Get ready..." he smirked before pushing the toy inside.

She moaned loudly as she felt the toy plunge her insides slowly, she swore she could feel a bulge in her stomach at how big it was.

"Mmh..." she hummed as she arched her back.

The demon pumped it in and out for a bit before leaving it inside her, "you can handle that on your own" the demon smirked when she looked at him with a shocked expression.

"W-what?"

"You heard me. Now if you need me, I'll be downstairs. And you better have that thing inside. Or else..." he smirked before leaving with a loud laugh

"Hey...!"

...

(Y/n) came down the stairs, legs shaking and clearly dazed.

She wore her husband's oversized shirt. With the thing still inside her, only being held up by her hand that was behind her as she walked slowly with trembling legs, she could feel it rubbing her insides as she moved.

There was indeed a bulge in her stomach everytime the thing moved.

"H-hey..." she weakly called to the demon that was watching some old times horror movie.

"Hm? Oh. And here I wonder if you went to sleep." He chuckled, knowing she wouldn't go to sleep in that case.

She slowly walked over to him and sat beside him with a gasp because the thing moved even deeper.

"You know what? I'm not letting you suffer anymore" he smirked and pushed her to the side just to reveal the big toy still shoved up inside her.

She panted heavily as he started messing with the toy.

"Alright. I'm kinda tired" he chuckled and grabbed the thing before starting to thrust it in and out rather harshly making her gasp and moan loudly until she was squirting all over the couch before eventually cumming really hard.

Trafalgar placed a cup under her dripping hole to catch the orgasm still leaking out of her.

"There we go... fresh milk"

"Why do you have to make things so weird??" She muttered as he hummed with a shrug

"I dunno. Just felt like it." He answered with a grin and drinking from the cup, "but I must admit. That was enjoyable."

"Oh fuck off..." she grumbled making him laugh and cuddle up to her.

"... you know, in hell, things like affection and respect doesn't exist... so... this is quite nice" he muttered as he buried his face in her neck while taking a whiff of her scent

"Careful. Your horns..." she mumbled

"Ah. My bad."

...

(Y/n) was long asleep and Trafalgar brought her to their room.

As he was tucking her in, the sudden urge to mark was unbearable.

Demons mark what is theirs, be it a thing or living being.

And if it's a person, a bite mark would've been alright.

But too deep might hurt (y/n) as she is human, not a demon. The bite itself would fade away but the traces of it would remain to any demon.

"Just a light one..." he muttered before lifting her shirt up and slowly biting the position above her belly.

"Shit--" he gasped and immediately stopped what he was doing but it was too late.

A bite on a human means the demon can possess said human. And Trafalgar knew his husband would've been so damn mad...

"I'll have to explain myself... Huh?" He mumbled before laying on the bed beside her and basically using her as his big teddy bear, "oh well..."

#random #night thoughts #trafalgar law #law x reader #trafalgar law x reader #law x y/n #one piece #trafalgar d law x reader #trafalgar d water law #trafalgar law x y/n #one piece trafalgar law #trafalgar d law #trafalgar one piece #trafalgar law smut #trafalgar law x reader smut #trafalgardwaterlaw #one piece law #law smut #law x reader smut #law x you #op.law #op law #op #one piece trafalgar d water law

[cantwritethetword]

Shut up, Merlin!

Fic Descript: Arthur learns the hard way that Merlin is very talented in the art of revenge after the king gets stuck wrapped in the drapes of his bed.

~A/N  - HEY ANON I TOLD YOU I HAD A MERLIN FIC IN THE WORKS !!!

I thought of this concept like AAAAAAGES ago and thought it was super funny and perfect for our little dynamic duo.

I have been absolutely vibing while on medication for my ADHD it's so nice to just be able to ✨start things✨ ?? and then, leave those things and ✨return later ✨?? and not have to drag myself to the finish line ?? crazy

- Enoy! ~

Tag List:

Masterpost Link 

Merlin and Arthur would die for each other.

There was no question about it. And they had come pretty close to it on multiple occasions. Whether it be facing trolls, witches, wildren, or mortal humans, both would take a sword to the heart for the other if the need arose.

If no danger was in sight, however, they would gladly throw each other under (the medieval equivalent of) the bus.

The pair had been out hunting, and a rather unsuccessful hunt at that. Arthur was in piss-poor form, which meant Merlin took every opportunity to run his mouth (and annoy the king further). They were making their way back to the castle, Arthur leading the way and Merlin trotting along behind.

"-do you remember when you missed that deer that was riiight in front of you?" Merlin asked, his face would suggest innocence but his tone proved he was trying to piss Arthur off.

"Shut up Merlin." Arthur replied flatly.

"And what about that time you were aiming for that huge bird?" Merlin continued. "But it flew off before you even had the chance to line up your bow?"

Arthur glared directly forwards, to no-one in particular. "Shut up, Merlin."

The men turned their horses off the beaten path and onto a lesser known shortcut through the thick forest back to Camelot.

Partially to clear the path, and partially to vent his frustration, Arthur swung his sword in front of him to clear some of the vines blocking their way. Perhaps the thickness of the foliage would deter Merlin from any more snide comments, and make him focus more on directing his horse through the areas too thick for Arthur to break.

Surprise surprise, Merlin continued as before. "And the rabbit- oh the knights are never going to let you forget that you lost a sword fight to an unarmed bunny-".

"Shut up Merlin!" Arthur groaned, wiping his face with his hands to try and wipe Merlin's voice from his brain.

"But we haven't even got to the-"

Merlin's taunt was interrupted by a sudden quiet, one that Arthur whispered silent praise to. "Have you finally taken my advice?"

When his servant didn't reply, Arthur slowed his horse. The now unnerving silence made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end, and at the faint rustle of vegetation Arthur whipped his head round and drew his sword - prepared to leap from his horse and engage with whatever potential threat may have overpowered his friend.

But the moment his eyes caught sight of what made the rustle, Arthur burst into laughter.

Merlin hung a few metres behind his dismounted horse, completely tangled in the green ropes. The tautness of the plant rendered him almost immobile, a fact that was well demonstrated by his fruitless wriggling.

"Now," Arthur said with a grin, his previous sour mood turned completely upside down. "What was that you were saying about the knights not letting us forget things? Because I think they'd love to hear about this."

Merlin's glare shot daggers in Arthur's direction. "Hah hah." He said sarcastically. "Now help me down you ass."

Climbing off his horse, Arthur threw his sword into the dirt and sat on a nearby fallen tree. His grin eating more shit than a dung beetle.

Merlin scoffed. "Really? You're just going to sit there."

Arthur shrugged. "I've worked hard enough on this hunt, I think I deserve to have a bit of entertainment."

Merlin rolled his eyes and writhed further, pulling at the greenery with all his might before giving up and letting his body go limp.

"You're really not going to get me out of this?" He asked sincerely, a hint of annoyance still hiding at the back of his throat.

"You're a big boy Merlin." Arthur grinned cockily, stifling a chuckle. "You can do it."

With another roll of his eyes, Merlin continued to wrestle against the vines. But it seemed no matter which way he pulled, somehow he kept tightening the bounds that kept him suspended a few metres above the floor. He couldn't even use his magic with Arthur watching him this closely.

"You know Merlin, I think if you'd just relax you would have been free by now." Arthur continued.

Merlin made a few disgruntled noises before continuing to wriggle in the plants.

After a few minutes, Arthur stretched his arms dramatically. "I could take a nap by the time you've finished."

"Do it then." Merlin muttered under his breath. "Lazy ass."

Ignoring Merlin's comment, Arthur folded his arms behind his head and closed his eyes.

The warlock scoffed, before taking his opportunity to mutter a quick spell and free himself from the godforsaken foliage.

Unfortunately, he freed himself a little too eagerly, and left his body weight with nothing to support it. He toppled from the web of vines directly into a substantially deep patch of mud underneath him.

Arthur cackled at the sight, clapping his hands once before standing up and mounting his horse again. "Come on then."

Merlin grunted, dragging his feet through the ankle-deep sludge to where his horse was patiently waiting.

"I feel sorry for your saddle." Arthur grinned behind him. "Having all that dirt smeared over it."

Merlin shot him a glare. "And I feel sorry for yours, having your arse squashing it."

Rolling his eyes, Arthur quipped back a retort. "At least I'm not the one who has to clean it."

"I doubt you'd know where to start."

Early the next morning, before even the sun was up, Merlin snuck into the royal chambers. Not an unfamiliar process by this point, though usually it had far less exciting intent. This was not about cleaning, or polishing, or even returning stolen goods.

This was about revenge.

Focusing his attention on the sleeping king, Merlin swiped his eyes to the drapes of the bed at the top two corners, chanting an incantation. The fabric wound and tied itself around Arthur's wrists - perfectly balanced between holding firm without cutting off his blood flow. Then came the bedsheets themselves, winding around the bottom bedposts and around Arthur's legs with a similar spell.

Smirking to himself, Merlin slinked away to the furthest point of the room. Giving himself a mindless task of busywork to wait for Arthur to waken.

After what felt like hours, there was movement. At first, the sounds of a half-sleeping grunt and a rough attempt at turning himself over came from Arthur's bed. Then, a slightly bewildered collection of mumbles and tugs to the material. Before finally,

"WHAT THE-?" Arthur bellowed, thrashing in the binds. "MERLIN!"

Deciding to take this moment to make himself known, Merlin popped his head from around the corner. "Morning sunshine."

"Merlin." Arthur breathed an exasperated sigh of relief, before continuing his brash tone. "Get me out of here!"

Merlin smirked at his friend. "Oh but I've got a long day of work ahead, I feel I deserve some entertainment."

Arthur glared at him. "Merlin. Get. Me. Out."

Just to rub the situation in, Merlin sat on the lower half of the bed (where Arthur couldn't reach) with his legs crossed, letting his chin fall on his hands - eager to watch the show.

Realising his manservant was going to be absolutely no help, Arthur began thrashing again, tugging at the drapes of his bedframe with little success.

"You know," Merlin suggested. "If you'd just relax, maybe you'd get out."

"I can't relax!" Arthur cried indignantly. "I am stuck, and hungry - I haven't even had breakfast! I'm wasting away-"

"Oh you're fine." Merlin laughed, poking Arthur's exposed side.

Arthur shrieked and recoiled (as best as the bedding would allow), internally cursing his decision to sleep without a shirt on. He locked eyes with his manservant, watching the cogs tick momentarily in Merlin's brain.

"Oh~?" Merlin grinned. "What's this?"

"Merlin I swear to you..." Arthur threatened, trying his best to keep his composure. "I will throw you in the stocks if you come any closer."

Merlin shrugged. "You've done worse." And crawled closer.

"I'll have you executed!" Arthur's voice was beginning to break with nerves.

Merlin laughed briefly. "You wouldn't survive without me."

Pulling himself together, Arthur called upon his most serious, kingly, threatening tone. "I'll ban you from the tavern!"

Merlin rolled his eyes, before clambering behind his friend - reveling in the freedom he had to really draw out the anticipation.

"Guahards!" Arthur shrieked, a bark of laughter breaking up his command as he twisted as far away from Merlin as he could. "Help!"

"Oh they can't hear you." Merlin grinned, noting the way Arthur almost seemed to relax at that statement. Perhaps the king needed this more than he did.

Either way, Arthur was royally screwed.

Merlin's spindly fingers began climbing up Arthur's sides, making the king jolt and yelp with every touch. Even when all he could see was Arthur's reddening ears, Merlin knew Arthur's face was scrunched as tightly as possible - avoiding even the smallest semblance of a smile.

Surprisingly, as Merlin's hands climbed higher, Arthur's breathing relaxed. The tension in his muscles remained, not allowing himself the risk of letting out so much as a snicker, but clearly his ribs and armpits weren't where Merlin should be focusing.

Following the cues of his victim friend, Merlin let his hands drag down over the curves of Arthur's love handles. Instantly, the king's breathing hitched - bingo.

Continuing the previously-built anticipation, Merlin slowly scraped his blunt fingernails against Arthur's skin, pulling his digits from splayed out to centered on the king's sides. Arthur was practically vibrating at this point with the pure effort of keeping his reactions at bay. Desperately gripping at the tough-guy facade with a pained grimace on his face, he pulled at the drapes his limbs were caught in at violent, random intervals.

"You're allowed to smile, you know." Merlin teased right in his friend's ear, adding a little more pressure to transition into light poking.

Arthur yelped in reaction, before grunting - as if to remind Merlin that Arthur was the King of Camelot, far too tough for something as childish as being ticklish.

Unfortunately, he had a little shit of a man-servant. And someone who knew exactly what to do to get him to crack a smile.

"Huh, maybe His Majesty the King isn't ticklish after all..." Merlin proclaimed, watching Arthur's cheek twitch into a stifled (but amused) grin, before clawing his hands against Arthur's sides.

Arthur's body seized, pulling against the fabric holding him in place so tightly Merlin thought the bedframe might snap, before slumping into Merlin's tickly grasp.

And the sweetest, most childish giggles Merlin had ever heard bubbled out of Arthur's mouth.

"Meh-meh-meherlihin!" Arthur gasped between bouts of soft laughter. "Wahahait!"

"Oh?" Merlin raised an eyebrow (not that Arthur could see). "Are you ticklish, Arthur?"

Arthur ducked his head to his shoulder. "Shuhuhut up Meherlin!"

It was at this moment, Merlin realised that while Arthur was occasionally pulling on the binds, it didn't seem intentional. Arthur only seemed to really pull with one hand, and not even to protect himself.

It seemed he was only focused on covering his (now bright red) face... Interesting.

"What's the matter?" Merlin beamed, peeking his head around next to Arthur's. "It can't tickle that badly."

"Meherlin!" Arthur's eyes widened with a flustered laugh, before flicking his head in the other direction. "Shuhuht uhuhup!"

Merlin laughed. "You're one to talk about shutting up Mr Giggles."

Arthur's cheeks burned even brighter - the poor guy looked more flustered than Merlin had ever seen him before. At this point Merlin was having more fun teasing the king than actually tickling him.

Though by this point, Arthur was almost getting used to the clawing at his love handles, so Merlin decided to swap techniques and start squeezing at Arthur's hip bones.

Turns out, Arthur has the perfect layering of fat and muscle for Merlin to drill his fingers all the way into the king's hips without pain - just a hell of a lot of tickling.

Arthur screeched, and though his breathing became more frantic and his struggling became more erratic, the bubbly giggles from before sounded just as carefree (just a little less gentle).

"Meher- nohohoho- meherlin wahahait!" Arthur cackled, his face in a permanent beam.

"Well isn't this just adorable." Merlin teased, pitter-pattering his fingers over Arthur's stomach before returning to the king's hips. "You know, I don't think I've ever seen you this happy."

"Shuhuhut uhup meheherlin!"

Merlin grinned at his friend, finally deciding to show mercy. Poor Arthur was nearing exhaustion, and he still had a full day of training with the knights ahead of him.

With a swift, inconspicuous mutter, Merlin loosened the drapes holding Arthur hostage. It took the king a few moments to finally realised he could free himself, and he escaped with a little less hurry than Merlin expected.

But even after Arthur's breathing returned to normal, and the flush had almost faded from his face, Arthur still had a massive grin splitting his cheeks and his arms folded over his eyes.

Merlin stood off the bed and let his friend lie there for a few moments, waiting for the usual threat or sarcastic quip that followed their usual banter sessions.

"Will that be all, my lord?" Merlin grinned, moving towards the door (and hoping to provoke some sign of life out of the guy.)

Arthur just giggled again. "Shuhut up Merlin."

#crow's tickle fic #merlin tickle fic #lmao I wrote half of this in the ER on a monday night #life be crazy but tkls persist #also I'm trialing out adding descriptions to fics so let me know what you think!

[sungbeam]

𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐤

motorcycle racer!ji changmin x gn!reader

1.4k words, flirting, changmin is wearing a leather jacket and aviators and dog tags (swoons), he calls u sweetheart ofc

a/n: at this point, i might as well just keep on going — btw, i recommend reading "rush" before this so the plot is put into context, but if u don't that's cool too

You had never seen Ji Changmin in the daylight before. 

You had been summoned down to the front of your apartment complex by his text message, informing you that your car was waiting outside. Instead of seeing only your beloved, hand-me-down sedan, you found yourself gazing upon the very thing mentioned beforehand: Ji Changmin, in all his glory. 

He was leaning up against the side of your car with his hands tucked into the pockets of his leather jacket, a garment riddled with pretty patches of art and emblems you'd like to take a closer look at. His dark hair was swept back slightly, just enough to be out of his face. He wore a pair of dark aviators over his eyes, and your keen eyes caught the dog tags hanging from the chain around his neck. 

He grinned at the sight of you, his tongue caught between his teeth. The dimples were throwing you off immensely. 

"Well?" He said in greeting, throwing his arms out open wide in a vague gesture. "Told you, you could trust me."

You made your way down the stairs toward him and your sandaled feet slapped against the concrete. You laughed under your breath, a little disbelieving. "I have to admit: I didn't think you could drive cars, Ji."

Changmin's mouth pressed into a smile then, taking a step toward you until the two of you stood face to face on the sidewalk. "Just one of my many charms, sweetheart."

You braided your arms over your chest. "Well, uh, for what it's worth—thanks for bringing my car back safe and sound." You made a show of peering around him at the vehicle. "At least, I hope it's all sound."

He snorted. "You're talking to the city's resident mechanic, Yn. It's as sound as sound can be."

"Ah, so you're a mechanic now?"

"I always have been." He leaned forward slightly, and you saw his eyes over the rim of his glasses, just as his tongue swiped over his bottom lip. "If you want, we can take it out for a spin and maybe you can learn a few more of my many talents."

You tilted your head to the side. Your thundering heart was making it difficult to think, or maybe that was just Changmin. This man was definitely keeping you on your toes. "I think some things are better left to the imagination."

Even with the aviators, you saw surprise flash over his features, and satisfaction purred in your chest. It felt good to elicit that kind of reaction from him. 

You shifted your gaze to movement in your periphery to watch as one of your neighbors pulled into the lot down the block. The thought suddenly occurred to you that if Changmin had your car dropped off here, he might not actually have a way back to wherever his residence was, unless the walk wasn't far. 

Maybe you were about to take your car out for a spin after all. 

You sighed, facing Changmin again. He was still waiting for you. "Let me grab my wallet," you exhaled, already turning on your heel to head into the complex. 

His laugh followed you all the way in. 

You had to adjust the driver's seat when you got into your car. Changmin was already settled in the passenger side, seat belt strapped over his chest and aviators propped up on his head. The keys were left dangling in the ignition for you, and he had even gone so far as to roll down his window and let the radio start playing. 

"You've made yourself at home," you noted as you sat up straight and quickly checked your mirrors. 

You stole a glance over at him at the same time as he did for you. 

He looked like he had too much room over there with his legs spread like that. "It's not every day that I get chauffeured. Usually it's the other way 'round. Pull out onto the main street and make a left," he instructed. 

"Yes, sir," you muttered under your breath as you followed his words, glancing over your shoulder as you turned out of the neighborhood and onto the bustling main intersection. 

Changmin tongued his cheek to keep from smiling. 

As you sped along the main road with the rest of traffic, you said, "For some reason, you feel very nocturnal to me."

He chuckled. "Why? Because races are at night?"

You lifted a shoulder half-heartedly. "I mean, yeah. I haven't seen you or associated you in any other context besides that. And maybe as Chanhee's weird friend—"

Changmin shot you a look. "I'm the weird one? Have you seen that man play Cool Math Games when he's bored?"

You guffawed aloud, and Changmin's mouth widened into a grin at the sound. "Do I keep going straight, or where do I turn?"

"Oh, keep going for two more intersections and then make a right into the first alleyway." He peered out his window for a second to watch the pedestrians and other cars on his side. "Again, not really sure what gave you the impression that I'm the weird one."

The smile on your face just wouldn't go away. But this time, you didn't have Changmin's helmet to hide it. 

You heeded Changmin's instructions and followed the road past two more intersections, then signaled to turn into the first alleyway. The alley led you into the back parking lot of what you assumed connected to the street of shops facing the main road. Changmin pointed toward an opened garage door like the yawning jaws of a cavern just down the block, and you carefully swung your car into park along the curb across from it. 

Changmin unbuckled his seatbelt and popped his door open. "My bike's inside," he said, as if interpreting your silent gaze toward the open garage door as a question. You could see all the equipment inside, as well as his motorcycle amongst the chaos. It seemed that he wasn't kidding about being a mechanic.

Your eyes darted upward at the second level above the garage. "Do you live here?" You blurted. "Sorry that was nosy—"

He shook his head, his hand propped on top of the car door where he stood just outside the car. "It's all good. Yeah, I live up there. It was just convenient and I couldn't exactly pass up the chance for a two-in-one rent," he chuckled. 

You nodded. There were thoughts running through your head, and yet, none of the words felt right on your tongue. 

Changmin pursed his lips into a dimpled smile, saluting you again. "Thanks for the ride back, Yn."

"Thanks for getting my car back," you replied. 

The car door slammed shut, and you slumped in your seat, waiting for him to round your car and head into his residence. 

Except, he rounded the car, then knocked on your window instead. 

You furrowed your brows, jamming your thumb on the button to lower the window all the way down. "Something up?"

He broke into an impish smile. "I forgot to give you this." He shouldered off the leather jacket on his shoulders, exposing the muscular build of his upper arms constrained in the navy blue T-shirt he wore. Your eyes widened as he folded the jacket in half, rolled it in a neat bundle, then passed it to you through the open window. You stared down at it like he had just placed a bomb in your lap. 

He snickered at your reaction, leaning his forearms above his head on the top of the car as he ducked his head in your window. "They see that, they'll let you in for free," he said, nodding to the jacket. 

You raised your head to meet his eyes. "They know it's yours?"

Changmin hummed, teeth capturing his bottom lip. "Mhm."

Oh. "They're gonna assume things."

"Like what?"

You deadpanned at him, and swore your heart tripped at the boyish smile on his face. He knew exactly what you were trying to get at. "They're gonna assume that we're an item."

Changmin shrugged his shoulders. "So? What does it matter what they think or assume? We know the truth."

"The truth?" You echoed. "You can't just tell them to let me in when I show my ID or something?"

Instead of addressing your logical suggestion, he simply said, "It's none of their business who you are to me." 

You blinked; his expression was unfaltering. You didn't know what game he was playing, but you had to remind yourself that you were only in this city for a short time, not a long one. (Then again, maybe that was more reason to live your life out like you had never gotten to before.) "And who am I to you?"

Changmin straightened, pushing off the car. He began walking backward toward his garage, putting distance between himself and his jacket. There was that cocky, smug smile again. "Whoever you wanna be, sweetheart."

a/n: i *really* need to make up for the lack of jacob fics now :/ (sorry cobie close ur eyes !! u don't see ANYTHING)

tbz m.list

permanent taglist: @tayunji @im-a-big-mess @honeyhuii @y3jiishot @crazywittysassy @seomisaho @stopeatread @enhacolor @rnjfy @jaehunnyy @kpopjackie @spiderrenjunfics @soobin-chois @mingiholic @ja4hyvn @ethereal-engene @justalildumpling @vatterie @yogurteume

#the boyz x reader #ji changmin x reader #changmin x reader #q x reader #the boyz drabble #the boyz oneshot #the boyz imagines #the boyz scenarios #changmin imagines #changmin oneshot #changmin drabble #changmin scenarios #the boyz fanfic

[chaotic-iguana]

bruh.

what. what the fuck.

writing started off as an exploration; a hobby that i was just trying out. something new, to pass the time. but i feel like it has now evolved into an extension of my art. over time, my stories starting having more and more elements of the poetry-inspired commentary i like to have in the forefront of my paintings, or very simply the imagery i used to include in my poems themselves.

but that isn’t even the best part.

i’ve been writing for around a month, and i absolutely adore literally every single mutual i have on here. @breakfastatjoels, @mandoisapunk, @josephquinnswhore, @bastardmandennis, @nostalxgic, @pedrosaidsheispunk, @theywhowriteandknowthings @millerscoffee

you’re all such inspirations im so glad to know u all thank u all for existing i gen would not have kept writing/still be on this site without yall and i promise im wrapping up i just think its a little fucked that im…gaining traction? how? and the crazy thing?? that list of ppl tagged up there are like just the ones i could remember off the top of my head!! there’s so many more! @imherefordeanandbones, was my first follower and the first on my taglist, and one of the first people to make me think my writing was actually not that bad for a beginner!!

anyways while i literally question everything and melt in gratitude, i hope you all have great days. thank you very much. let’s hope we see many more!!

enough sappy shit.

as a celebration, im gonna write fics, blurbs or hcs (saw/nsfw) based on the following prompts:

this is from @havenoffandoms 800 follower celebration! just send me your character pairing and prompt. list below the cut

“I’m in love with you. Please, don’t leave me.”

“Shut up and kiss me.”

“It’s really not that complicated.”

“You’re in love with them, aren’t you?”

“We could get arrested for this.”

“I thought you were dead.” 

“You’re never going to let that go, are you?”

“Love is overrated.”

“If you think I’m going to talk to you while you’re dressed like that, you’re wrong!”

“Do you ever actually use your cellphone?”

“You don’t need to protect me.”

“You fainted… right into my waiting arms. You know, if you wanted my attention you didn’t have to go to such extremes.”

“You have to make a choice.”

“You have to remember.”

“You heard me. Take. It. Off.”

“You know, it’s okay to cry.”

“You lied to me!”

“You make me feel like I’m not good enough.”

“You need to wake up cause I can’t do this without you.”

“You’ll be the death of me.”

“The only thing hotter than seeing your orgasm is seeing your smile.”

“Where do you think you’re going dressed like that? Your body is for my eyes only.”

“From the minute I met them, there was no choice. They’re smart. They’re strong. They resent their parents enough to go for a person like me. Also they’re crazy hot.”

“What do you mean, I’m not scary? I literally nearly scared the life out of a man?” “You literally scared a little saliva and a little urine out of him.”

“When someone your age dies, you instinctively want to hear it was of something that could never happen to you. Well, it’s the same with divorce.”

“I get to stay home and plan the death of Dora the Explorer. Fill her backpack with bricks and throw her into the Candy Cane River.”

“You don’t ‘take a run’ at a person. You woo them. You make them feel special.” “Hey honey, look at this. It’s a picture of my butt.”

“I don’t like you.” “I’ll get over it.”

“You’re one of the most beautiful person I know, and you don’t even know it.” “No, I know it.”

“Why do you always have to throw wet blankets on my dreams?” “I do not.” “Yes you do. And you know what I end up with? Wet dreams.”

“So you’re gonna throw me under the bus?” “Oh, I’m gonna throw you so hard I might even win a stuffed animal.”

“Who wouldn’t be angry if you ate all the cereal and faked your death for three years?”

“Quick, catch the cat it stole my coin pouch!”

“I feel like I was just hit by a car… wait, I did? And it was YOUR car?”

“I can’t believe I’m sitting in a dungeon with you of all people.”

“So why do I have to punch that guy?”

“I may have accidentally sort of adopted five goats.”

“I hope you know that my name is actually _____”

“Please stop petting the prisoners.”

“Please put me down, it’s just a sprained ankle.”

“So what if I broke my arm, I’m still doing it.”

“Why exactly do you need chloroform at 2am?”

“I’m like 75% sure this won’t explode in our faces.”

“You know how my people are, we would destroy ourselves just for spite.”

“Wait, is that what you were trying to do? I’m sorry, I would’ve taken you much more seriously if I knew.”

“Let’s not blow the extortion charge out of proportion. My boss was just a sore loser.”

“Of all things, you would have thought that the rain was innocuous enough. Turns out, nothing is innocuous in this Gods forsaken place!”

“It’s illegal to make unauthorized species. But it’s also illegal to kill endangered species. Thankfully, I only did one of each.”

“The secret ingredient isn’t human flesh, that’s all I can say.”

“Where’s the king?” “He’s being chased by a wyvern. It’s an old tradition, you see.”

“If I serenade for you, will you strip for me?”

“This is new.”

“Make me.”

“Shh. Stop fussing. I’m just braiding your hair.”

“If you steal the blankets, I’m going to put my cold feet on you.”

“Don’t be stubborn. Try it.”

“You are very endearing when you are half-asleep.”

“I heard you talking in your sleep.”

“The thought of losing you scares me.”

“Don’t smile at me like that. You know it drives me crazy.”

thank you. love you all.

#follower celebration #400 followers #thank you #love you all literally so much

[crowleyholmes]

Flaming Sword Foreshadowing

Last night I was peacefully editing my video just vibing having a good time when I skipped over a scene that had confused me for a while and it struck me like lightning that it HAS to be foreshadowing because WHY ELSE would they have shot it that way????

And I have to add I'm relatively new to the fandom so I'm sure this has come up many many MANY times but to be fair I've spent the last few weeks basically living in the tags and the meta and I while I've seen the theory once in a piece of fanart, I haven't seen connections to this scene so I figured I might as well share my thoughts in case there are any other new fans like me out there who will appreciate (aka absolutely hate) it!

So one of my absolutely favorite theories is that Crowley used to be Lucifer, yes? I have many reasons why I believe this, maybe I'll make another post all about that, but for now let's just roll with it.

Okay so Aziraphale has a flaming sword. Which (I think, don't quote me on this, I'm not religious and don't know much about it at all, most of what I know comes from art and/or just general knowledge) in the Bible, is used by Michael (who is the supreme Archangel), who stabs Lucifer with it as they throw him from Heaven down to Hell, right?

And at first I wasn't too worried about that because like. Aziraphale isn't Michael. Michael, in Good Omens, neither has a flaming sword nor is the supreme archangel.

BUT NOW. At the end of season 2, who is about to become supreme archangel, taking the position that Michael has in the Bible, and owns the weapon that Michael has in the Bible?? Yeah.

So even upon this realization I was like nahhh idk it's. A fun theory but there's SO many other ways things could happen I'm overthinking this for sure.

But then I noticed this scene again with this theory in mind and WHY DID THEY SHOOT IT LIKE THIS here look I made some gifs to illustrate:

Aziraphale is standing over Crowley, sword raised as if he's going to attack him, and Crowley looks up at him TERRIFIED.

Now, I realize there are explanations for all of this, but let me elaborate on my thoughts one by one.

WHY did they make Aziraphale pick up the sword in the first place? There is NO reason for him to hold it, I mean I GUESS he's afraid of Satan, who is about to pop up for a visit, but - what's Aziraphale going to do about it, right? He's just one small low/ish-ranking angel, and the way Satan is portrayed in this show, I doubt the sword would make much of a dent in him. So, okay, perhaps Aziraphale picked it up simply to have Something, Some kind of weapon ready to feel a Little bit safer, but STILL - why pick it up one second before he turns to Crowley, why not sooner, then? And why raise it AT CROWLEY in the way that he does, when what he says to him has nothing to do with the sword at all? He would NEVER want to actually hurt Crowley. And the way this shot is framed, the way the sword is so prominent and threatening, I just don't think they did this only for comedic value (in juxtaposing the threat of the sword with "I'll never speak to you again"). He also briefly looks at the sword right after "I'll -", almost as if he's actually considering it. (OR as if he's thinking "why the hell am I holding this and why am I holding it like this, Crowley's going to think I'm going to stab him?!" which was what I WAS THINKING.) But, again, Aziraphale would NEVER point a weapon at Crowley or threaten him in any serious way - centuries ago/millenia ago, maybe, but not for a long time now, under no circumstances, not the way they are now.

Another question I have is WHY did they make Crowley fall to his knees? Sure, the earth is shaking, everybody is quite wobbly, but Crowley is so sure-footed usually, I find it hard to believe that he would fall when even Newt manages to stay on his feet (no offense Newt, I love you). But okay, I guess, maybe they wanted to show how desperate Crowley was? Visualize him giving up? I can't really argue with that one, but in combination with Everything Else, it just seems like they put them in these exact positions WAY too intentionally.

I just know that this scene is going to come back to haunt us, it will happen again but with a very different, very serious threat from (a possibly/probably memory-wiped) Aziraphale, an actually FLAMING flaming sword, and an even more desperate and terrified Crowley.

Bonus:

#good omens #good omens 2 #good omens spoilers #good omens meta #good omens theory #crowley #aziraphale #aziracrow #ineffable partners #mine #gomens #gomens2

[astudyincontrasts]

The Baron’s Daughter Ch2

Regency!Silco x Fem!Reader NSFW

Second part of @thesaltybuns birthday gift 🖤 Just a little three part regency AU fic to celebrate her sweetness and all her beautiful art. Dropping a chapter a day, final chapter tomorrow! Cameo appearance by Sevika this time around and Singed next, as well as some familiar henchmen too.

Tags: No Y/N, regency themes, arranged marriage, canon typical violence, blood, illness, hurt/comfort, virgin reader, longing, slight angst, smutty funtimes on the way soooon

Part 1/Part 2/Part 3

Addendum 1

“Play billiards with me tonight.”

Mr. Silco had surprised you the next evening after dinner, a further form of contrition you supposed, after an uncomfortably silent meal, your sullenness at the previous evening’s mistreatment still fresh. You had excused yourself from a dessert you did not want, and he’d caught your hand as you rose from the table, grip a gentle bracelet that you did not wish to admit had once more stopped your heart for a beat or two.

It froze you to the spot, staring down at him as he kept his own eyes upon the grasp of fingers round your hand, thumb again picking up an absent little stroke against the delicate skin just under your knuckles. You thought for a moment he might find something new to scold you over, or have something else cruel to say, but instead he turned those mismatched eyes upward and asked - if you could call something a question, that sounded so close to a demand - if you would join him in a game again tonight.

It had you rooted to the spot in as much surprise as his touch alone had done, gaze ticking back and forth between ocean eye and the hot ember of its brother. He had not worn the eyepatch since you’d caught him without it last night, and you’d found yourself wondering over the soup of the first course if perhaps it was because he felt more at ease now that you’d shown no fear of his malady, or if instead it was because he’d simply stopped pretending to care what did or did not make you comfortable.

Play with him again tonight? Memories of his sneering pleasure at throwing your situation in your face flooded back afresh and you fought down a little wave of bitterness as you pulled your hand from his grasp.

“No thank you.” Pausing, you mustered whatever shreds of politeness you had left to try to clothe your contempt, and failed miserably, tongue sharper than you’d let it be in a long time, “I’m afraid I can’t afford the wager.”

You took your leave without offering him a moment to reply, and it only struck you much later as you lay alone in the dark silence of your room that not only had you rejected his touch, you’d also slapped away the first and only time he’d begged the pleasure of your company.

Rising from your bed and lighting a few more candles, you sank down at your writing desk and pulled a sheet of paper to you. Sat writing and writing, composing him a letter, an apology, an explanation for your bad behavior, pleading with him to offer you another chance or opportunity to return the meager affection and more. Like you had to get it out, pour it out of your heart or else you’d go mad with it all welling up inside fit to drown you, lungs swimming in the ache and regret.

At the end of it all you sat staring at the pages of the letter. It was too much, too frivolous and honest and unguarded. Sure to embarrass Mr. Silco as much as yourself if you were to give it to him. Instead you rose and crossed to the fireplace and fed the little flames the papers one by one before blowing out all the candles and crawling back into bed. Resolved to do better, be better to him. Actions, not words.

The following day you met Sevika.

You’d caught glimpses of her previously, coming or going, enough to know she was one of the manor house’s most frequent visitors. This time you caught her on the stairs, her ascending to Silco’s office no doubt, whilst you were on your way down to the drawing room with your embroidery. The pair of you met on the landing, and as you came toe to toe you were stunned at the way she loomed over you; as uncommonly tall as she was broodingly beautiful with her rich, dark skin and pitiless grey eyes. She seemed to have no use for her own beauty though, held it in as much contempt as she did all things that surrounded her, mouth set in a hard, tight shape or else a curling sneer, no softness to her in the least and proud of it. This close, you could see the lightning streak of a scar that coursed up one side of her face, from jaw to cheek, a subtle marring of that deep complexion that spoke of past violence visited upon her.

You both paused before each other, her gazing down at you like some little terrier in her path rather than the lady of the house, and you up at her with an awestruck silence you hoped hadn’t left you staring rudely. You dropped a little curtsey first as the silence strained, though by rights she ought to have given you the honor, and she deigned to dip her head a touch.

When you lifted your gaze again you found those cool grey eyes of hers ticking you over as if she were taking calculations, only to fall upon the embroidery hoop in your hand. For some reason she seemed to find that quite amusing, if the way her smirk stretched lopsided were any indication. You had no idea why so commonplace a thing should spark such distainful joy.

You’d scarce had an opportunity to open your mouth before she’d side stepped you, that ever present shawl she wore so oddly tied and draped long over one shoulder brushing you as she went by. It felt a rudeness hardly to be borne, but it also felt far wiser to hold your tongue on the matter and head downstairs on your way, though you couldn’t stop yourself glancing back up the stairs after her departure as you descended.

Since she hadn’t deigned to offer you her name, let alone one word, you had to yet again corner the footman who brought your tea later and press him for information.

Sevika. You turned her name over and over again in your mouth as you sat whiling away the afternoon with needlework. Why should she be here, day after day? So at ease in the house as if she owned it, and saw herself straight up to the office all but scheduled business associates were forbade from. Why he should entertain her, and so often, nagged at you, gnawed away at you, and eventually began to whisper the most hideous things.

Your patience wore out by the third course of dinner the following night.

“I met Miss Sevika yesterday.”

Your declaration was met with little more than a disinterested hum from Silco as he pushed at a spear of asparagus on his plate. No wonder the man was lean and corded as a whip, he ate like a finicky bird. You watched him, offering him time in which to formulate a response or excuse, and when none was forthcoming, felt your irritation begin to rise.

No matter. You’d not let temper get the better of you this time. Spearing a bite of pheasant and excising it from the bone with one sure stroke of your knife, you kept attention fixed indifferently upon your plate and decided to go straight for the kill. Kept your tone as coolly disaffected as you were capable of to deliver the question.

“Is she your lover?”

The tines of his fork scratched against the porcelain of the plate, followed by a grim little laugh that had you lifting eyes from your food to chance a peek in his direction, only to find him smirking at you in undisguised amusement. Silco let his fork clatter to the plate as he scooped up his wine glass and sat back, swinging one leg across the other as he switched focus from you to the claret in his glass, swirling it in little back and forth waves before indulging in a deep, slow sip, gaze trained back upon you over the rim of his cup.

“Certainly not… though I’ll have to let her know that’s what you think of her. That she’s what? My hired company, perhaps?”

“No, I -”

“No? Then what? A lover jilted by our arrangement but still true? How tragically romantic of you.”

“That’s not -”

“Tell me, dove. Do you think so little of me that I’d break my marriage vows over and over again and under the same roof I share with you? That I’d not only do such a thing but be so callous as to flaunt it before your very face?”

“Silco, I -”

He drained his glass and set it down, leaning forward once more with sharp elbows upon the table, lacing long fingers like conniving spider’s legs as he refused to release you from the web of your own galled embarrassment.

“What have I done to deserve such poor standing in your eyes?” His tone was so darkly amused, dripping tender condescension, no different than one might speak to a simpleton child.

It had color rising in your cheeks, burning across your chest and up your throat.

“I simply could not fathom why a man might entertain such a lady so regularly and privately.” You finally managed to get a full sentence out in defense of yourself, very aware that it was only because he had allowed it, that he was madly enjoying toying with you, and wanted to see you dig yourself deeper into the hole you’d already so foolishly created.

“You’re terribly uncharitable to your own sex.” He observed, one hand unlacing itself to rest upon the silver knife set beside his plate, plucking and smoothing at its handle absently. “To think that they could serve such purpose and nothing more. Sevika is a business associate of mine, and an invaluable one at that.”

When no servant was forthcoming to clear the plates or serve the next course in a timely manner, likely because none dared enter the room while the master of the house was in the throes of dark delight at dressing down his obstinate wife, Silco rose himself and fetched the decanter of claret from the sideboard. You felt the weight of his hand rest upon the back of your chair as he stood over you to fill your glass first, unhurried in his pour, obviously savoring the discomfort radiating off you at his looming, the air between the pair of you a soft, dangerous crackle of static and tension.

“She saved my life once, I’ll have you know.” That rich velvet voice of his with its rough torn edges so terribly close to your ear as he filled your glass that it raised goosebumps across the bared span of shoulders the wide neckline of your dress revealed.

“At great personal cost to herself.” He mercifully stepped away, refilled his own glass and resumed his seat, leaving the decanter on the table at his elbow.

You sat there, mulling that little tidbit over, the first small, private aspect of his life he deigned to volunteer, and felt very foolish indeed. Still, the lingering jealousy over this other woman’s monopolization of his time and attention carved deep wounds, still seeping bitterness through your remorse.

You lifted the glass he’d filled for you and took a long sip in place of speaking too soon, ready to own your wrongs by the time you’d set it down again, and placed your napkin upon the table as you rose. No appetite left for the remainder of the meal to come.

“If I offended you, I am sorry.”

He made you feel so small, over and over again. And all you could do was bear up under it. Another little failure in the ledger between you both.

“Were you jealous?” He asked quietly as you made to push your seat back in and take your leave.

It had you lifting eyes again to find him once more regarding the wine in his hand, as if he were addressing it instead of you. You could not find the words to answer him, did not trust the ones that rushed from your chest to lodge in your throat, and instead left him in a hurried silence.

Another evening of filling page after page of a new letter to him, another missive fed into the fire instead of pushed under his door.

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ⚜ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

Perhaps it was the lingering frustration with him and yourself that caused you to quarrel with the servant the next evening.

You had caught the maid in the hallway and instructed her that you wished to have a bath ready after supper, and she’d looked exhausted and irritated at the prospect of the work of it, before trying to convince you to put the ablutions off until tomorrow.

Your insistence on that evening and her truculence had escalated into rebuke and then outright argument, voices raised enough they must have carried down the hall to Silco’s office.

Stood there, glaring down the unhappy woman, waiting her next insubordinate reply, you were surprised to watch a change come suddenly over her face; cold disrespect thawing to a dawning fear and quickly covered by her downcast gaze and clumsy little bobble of a curtsey - a nicety never paid to you by any of the household.

“If your mistress wants a bath tonight you will indulge her.”

Silco’s voice from directly behind your shoulder had you nearly leap straight out of your skin. He moved so quietly when he wished to that you’d dearly like to tie a bell on the man as if he were a cat to stop him sneaking up.

“Yessir.” The maid rushed to reassure him, dipped another little curtsey and fled, leaving you to turn and face him alone.

He looked boredly amused as the soft ocean and hot coal of eyes flicked from the maid’s departing back to your expression. A scant inch behind you, he stood with hands laced behind his back, chin lifting as you turned round to him.

“Kindly don’t bully the staff, darling. It is hard enough keeping any of them around for very long.”

Heat flooded your face as you struggled for words, unreasonably embarrassed to be rebuked, albeit gently, for exerting your own place in the house.

“I need a ladies maid!” It came out sounding like a childish demand, like you might stamp your foot a pitch a wobbly little fit if you were not coddled. Damn it, damn him for always making you so off-center.

Silco arched his unruined brow, the slice of his smile tugging a touch at one corner.

“As I said, it's difficult enough keeping a regular staff…”

“Your regular staff seem like ruffians rounded off the streets. I wonder that the lot of them haven’t just emptied your silver cabinet and made off already.” It could not be helped, your retreat into mouthy insolence, ire already raised by the previous argument with the maid. Not that you didn’t regret each word immediately, just that your regret, as with your embarrassment, kept feeding that monster within that you could not shove back in its box.

Silco’s smile altered, stiffened, and spread darkly. It deepened all those furrowed scars cutting jagged across the sharp and hollow of his left side.

“Do you really?” He asked, dangerously low.

No. No, you did not have to wonder that not even the lowliest dogsbody in the house would think twice before crossing him. You caught yourself shaking your head mutely, refuting your earlier aspersions as to the loyalty of his staff as quickly as you possibly could.

One hand unfolded from behind him to graze the back of a curled forefinger under your chin. The soft electricity of the slight contact stole your breath and sent a surreptitious little thrill coursing down your spine.

“Work around these parts is hard to come by. I wonder if you’ve any idea what some of our household have had to do for a meal or dry bed. This is not the glittering upper echelons of the city you were brought to season in. This is where I was raised, and I am determined to improve it by my own hand. Why do you need a ladies maid so badly? You aren’t uncomfortable here, are you? Or neglected?” He asked quietly.

Truth be told you were many levels of uncomfortable and felt deeply neglected indeed, but none of those things were problems a ladies maid could possibly solve for you. His rebuke of your entitled treatment of the staff had you even more discomfited than his treatment of you did, however. Eyes dropped to the carpet at his boots as you shook your head silently once more.

“No, it's just… I want someone to care for my own needs. This staff is yours.” You muttered, that film of petulance still clinging on in spite of your quiet misery.

Again the crook of his finger caressed beneath your chin, this time catching, lifting until you were forced to drag eyes upward along with the rise of it.

“I thought I was your servant.”

The words, and the wicked little slice of his smile that accompanied them had you exhale so hard you felt your head would spin. His effect seemed to please him greatly, though he managed to mask it well behind the facade of that scarred, handsome face. You found yourself wondering if you’d cut the apple of your cheek on that sharp nose of his if you were to suddenly pitch forward and rob him of a kiss. Boldness failed you though, kept in its place by that irreproachable stern air he wrapped himself in like armor.

“I’ll see what I can do.” He murmured, returning to your demands of a personal maid, “But no promises.”

That finger of his turned and the touch of its knuckle whispered along the shape of your jaw. Your eyes refused to obey the direction to stay locked on him, lashes too heavy with want to stay lifted, fighting your attempts to remain unmoved with a fluttered lowering you swore you heard him hum at.

“In the meantime, if you would kindly confine your louder arguments to the rooms downstairs or your own bedroom? I’m afraid things are a bit delicate at the moment, and I’d like the only yelling I hear in the near future to be from the men who’ve crossed me in their shipping negotiations.”

Again, the only response you were capable of offering was a motion of your head, a feeble little nod this time that he hardly took note of as he folded his hand back behind him and turned to stalk back to his office to complete his business day in peace.

It was a very long letter indeed that you burnt that evening, after your bath.

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ⚜ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

Early the following week he caught you enjoying the last of the late afternoon sun on a chaise in the drawing room, wrapped up in the book he’d given you. It was very good reading indeed, and you were eager to finish it in order to finally be able to enjoy discussions on it over dinner.

His shadow was instantly recognizable as it slid over you and the open book, had you glancing up over one shoulder to find him leaning upon the back of the chaise. You offered him the sweetness of a fleeting smile before closing the book to lay it in your lap.

“Enjoying the novel?” He asked, pleasure at catching you reading his recommendation overcoming his natural aversion to small talk.

“Very much, thank you.” Pulling knees toward yourself a bit in your comfortable recline, you adjusted skirts to clear a space for him to sit with you should he wish. “I’ll read aloud if you’d like to join me?”

“Mmn, thank you but no. I just wished to let you know I would not be joining you for dinner for a night or two, I have some business to attend to that will keep me away for a few days.”

It was difficult to hide your disappointment at being left in the large house alone, and so you simply turned your face back to the book in your lap with a little nod of acknowledgement. He lingered in silence, and left you wondering what else he had that he wished to say, but would not.

“I won’t be away longer than necessary.”

It was a rough grit, quiet reassurance, but kind of him to offer; he so rarely stood on needless politeness or bothered himself with your feelings that the simple phrase nearly felt as nice as receiving the gift of a posey of flowers.

Before you could stop yourself you’d reached up, across yourself, to take hold of the wrist of his hand braced upon the chaise behind your opposite shoulder. You could feel him tense under the touch, yet he still allowed you to pull his hand down across yourself, to hold his fingers in the gentle grasp of your own before you. Elegant, long fingers were cool in your sun-warmed ones, and emboldened, you turned your face to nestle your cheek lightly against his clothed forearm and wrist in gentle, tentative affection.

His silence was fraught, heavy. Yet he did not jerk his hand from you or rebuke your boldness. Instead his thumb brushed the outside edge of the hand that held his own, and you released the grip of him slowly, sure he’d withdraw wordlessly and leave the small tenderness you offered one sided.

Instead, as your fingers released, his came to lay upon the bare skin the deeply scooped neckline of your gown revealed. You’d stopped over-lacing your corsets, but the softly rounded display of cleavage still lay inviting over the empire waisted gown you wore, with its generously scooped low neckline and close fitted little bodice.

The cool of his fingertips lay for a moment against the soft of your skin before he stirred from stillness, and blood froze in your brain as his touch stroked low, traced a gently ticklish line along the shape of the edge of your gown, featherlight stroke leaving skin singing in its wake.

As he drew touch up over the swell of one breast and then down and over the other to pause, you thought for a heady, spinning moment that perhaps his fingers might slide beneath the thin, sheer ribbon scalloped at your neckline, might dip deeper. It had your head rocking back against the softly turned cushion of the backrest, eyes drifting closed as breath shallowed; all silent and still invitation to the sweet softness of his touch. Skin under your dress burned, the peak of nipples stiffening under boned corset in aching anticipation.

When his hand moved again, however, it was not to slide beneath the confines of your gown, but rather upward, across the open expanse of gently flushing skin to caress the dip of your collarbone and slide up the column of your throat along one side. Want lay heavy in your mouth as a plum stone, sweet and thick as honey at the back of your tongue.

No sooner had that tender caress drifted up behind the hook of your jaw then it was gone, and when you opened eyes, he too had vanished, the quiet sound of footsteps already headed out of the drawing room and down the hall in a sharp stride.

When at last you managed to gather yourself enough to reopen the book, you read the same line thirty times and still had no idea what it said when you finally shut the pages again. Left to stare out the window at the ruddy light of the setting sun as it set the town outside ablaze in soft fire. Tips of your own fingers pressed to the shape of your mouth as you relived that soft touch over and over again until an exasperated footman came to fetch you to a supper you barely touched.

There was no letter for the fire that night, unable to wade through thoughts well enough to put a single word to paper, his cool fingertips haunting each sensation and creeping into every dream long after you’d crawled into bed.

It was deep into the night, well past midnight when the commotion woke you.

#silcoxreader #silco #arcane #regency silco #regency au #silco x f!reader #arcane silco x reader #silco fic #arcane fic #arcane au #silco x reader

[new-revenant]

Mirror World of Mine AU art hoopla! It’s the Lunch Lady scene but it’s uh different. Danny’s basically saying that only he has the capability to defeat the Lunch Lady. I have a story bit under the cut. This is making me want to write a whole fic for this AU. Anyways, if you don’t know anything about this AU, just look at my previous posts about it under the MWofM AU tag. This is a magic AU. Neil is this AU Danny. Regular Danny also exists in this AU. Possession ieskai. You read that right.

After Neil had darted to the bathroom after the “garbage fight” he managed to start, Sam and Tucker barely had a moment to settle down before the temperature in the cafeteria started to plummet.

“Brr, since when did it get so cold?” Sam asked, shivering. Tucker shrugged, shivering as well.

“Maybe some garbage got in the AC?” Tucker suggested.

“It’s not garbage-“ Sam started before being abruptly cut off by a screech coming from the kitchen. Everyone in the cafeteria started looking over toward the noise, and promptly started panicking. Did they even notice the wind that came from nowhere? And that it started to swirl over to the kitchen? Sam and Tucker noticed.

“Sam, I think we might have a,” -Tucker leaned closer to Sam to whisper- “we might have a ghost problem.”

“Hopefully the ghost doesn’t show up psychically,” Sam whispered back.

Then the ghost appeared. A sweet looking lunch lady, clad with pink clothes and a white apron, seeming rather confused.

“Hello dearies, I’ve noticed that there isn’t any meatloaf, even though it was supposed to be served today, according to the menu,” the Lunch Lady asked quite calmly.

“Well it was going to be served until someone changed the menu,” Tucker glared at Sam, who responded with a huff.

Then the ghost’s appearance shifted. She got bigger, and her white hair outside of her cap burst into flames.

Green flames surrounded her body as she yelled, “WHO CHANGED THE MENU?!”

“You just had to tell her didn’t you?” Sam hissed through gritted teeth.

“What was I supposed to say?” Tucker asked.

“Nothing! Say nothing!”

“THE MENU HAS BEEN THE SAME FOR 50 YEARS!” The Lunch Lady continued. She growled as a green vortex appeared above her.

“We’re done for!” Someone yelled. Sam and Tucker could only agree with that sentiment-they had no idea how to deal with a ghost. Maybe if Sam actually bothered to learn more about her psychic powers, and if Tucker knew anything about supernatural creatures that aren’t vampires or werebeasts, maybe, just maybe they could’ve done something. And it looked like Sam was going to be the Lunch Lady’s first target, as the ghost pointed a fist of green at her.

“WERE YOU THE ONE TO CHANGE THE MENU?!” The Lunch Lady questioned.

“Um, maybe?” Sam smiled nervously. That was apparently a good enough answer for the Lunch Lady to lift one of nearby tables to throw at her.

A haunting laughter sounded out from every corner of the room. The Lunch Lady paused, lowering the table. The air seemed to still for a moment, returning to the same calm of before. Sam gave a sigh of relief before remembering the laughter.

A figure phased up through the middle of the floor. Another ghost, a boy that looked around her age. His lower face was covered by a white cloak that enveloped his entire body, only the toes of his white boots poking out from under it.

“It isn’t very professional to attack students lady,” the new ghost told the Lunch Lady with much more confidence in his voice then anyone else would have in this situation.

“Well someone changed the menu,” the Lunch Lady responded.

“The same menu that was in place for 50 years? How awful.” The new ghost seemed to know about the menu then. Or he was just listening in.

“Yes! You understand me then!”

“Oh I understand. I understand that you’re putting your anger onto innocent students!”

The oppressive air returned with the Lunch Lady’s anger, “LUNCH IS SACRED, LUNCH HAS RULES, HOW DARE YOU DEFILE IT’S IMPORTANCE!”

The new ghost just laughed. He clasped his hands together, and shaped a giant, odd looking scythe out of ice in mear seconds.

“I don’t think I’m defiling lunch’s importance, I’m just standing up for these kids.” The new ghost said. He stuck the end of his scythe into the floor and floated to stand on top of tip of it. He looked over to Sam and Tucker specifically, looking between the two before his bright green eyes settled on Sam. Sam looked back, but couldn’t bare to look him in the eyes. She focused on his white hair, which had a golden sheen on the tips of it.

“I think we’re all aware that without me, Danny Phantom,“ -the ghost-Danny Phantom-threw his hands out flamboyantly, unveiling the green coloring of the inside of the cloak- “You wouldn’t have a GHOST of a chance~“ He cackled after saying that, whether it because of his pun of for some other reason.

“Now let’s get this haunt on the road!” Danny pulled out the ice scythe from the floor and launched himself at the Lunch Lady, and the fight began.

Both Sam and Tucker wished they went to bathroom like Neil did.

#danny phantom #danny fenton #dp fanart #dp au #danny phantom fanart #danny phantom au #niel fenton #magic au #dp art #MirrorWorldOfMine AU #MWofM AU #revenant makes art

[commiegoth]

Interview with nonbinary trans author Kate Bornstein, promoting her book Gender Outlaw (Mondo 2000 #13, 1995)

Full text under cut

I‘m walking down 16th Street minding my own business. This good looking woman is coming toward me. She's got on baggy unbuttoned overalls and an orange tank top. Her arms look good, her shoulders look good, and what I can see of her stomach looks good. Two guys are standing on the sidewalk. As she passes them, one says to the other, “I'd like to take that one home.” The other guy agrees. The woman keeps walking. Now it's my turn to pass 'em. “I'd like to take that one home and knock A her around a little bit,” the first guy says. I keep walking. The other guy answers. “That's a her?”

But enough about me. This is supposed to be about Kate Bornstein who wants you to read her new book Gender Outlaw. Bornstein used to be a man; now she’s not. Bornstein used to be a heterosexual; now she isn't. Bornstein used to have a dick; now she doesn’t.

She’s a “used-to-be-a-man, three husbands, father, first mate on an ocean-going yacht, minister, high-powered IBM sales type, Pierre Cardin three-piece suitor, bar-mitzvah’d, circumcised yuppie from the East Coast… a used-to-be politically correct, wanna-be butch, dyke phone sex hostess, smooth talking, telemarketing, love slave, art slut, pagan Tarot reader, maybe soon a grandmother, crystal palming, incense burning, not man, not always a woman, fast becoming a Marxist.”

All that’s not what makes her an outlaw. What makes her an outlaw is she sees a time when folks will look at the binary gender system and throw back their heads and laugh— ha ha ha. Males and females and that’s it? Ha ha ha. Get the fuck outta here.

Bornstein’s looking forward to us all living in what author Marjorie Garber (Vested Interests, Routledge) calls the Third Space. “This whole concept of three is so beautiful,” Kate says, “because it includes the first two. I don’t say there’s a third space that exists between men and women. I say there’s a third space outside of the Binary which leaves the Binary as this construct off to the side, very fragile and apt to fall apart.”

If I were a man, everything about me that brings me grief in the world—the way | walk, the way I talk, the way I think, the way | stand, the way I sit, the way I dress, the way | cut my hair, how much I weigh, how much weight I lift—would not only be acceptable, it would be revered. If we lived in the Third Space, it wouldn't even matter.

Bornstein had to learn a lot of rules in order to fit in. Like when a man walks down the street he looks people in the eye; when a woman walks down the street she looks at the ground. And women talk different. They have higher, breathier voices and their speech is more modulated. In mixed conversations, it’s the woman's job to laugh at the bad jokes and fill in the awkward silences. They smile constantly while they’re talking and use tag questions to qualify sentences, like “you know what I mean?”

“All of these customs are forms of self-deprecation,” says Bornstein, “like learning how to keep my knees together and not putting my arm across the back of my seat in the subway train. A lot of that was not so much to be a woman as to pass as a woman, so that I wouldn't call attention to myself.”

If we lived in the Third Space, she wouldn't have had to worry. In fact, if we lived in the Third Space, she might not even have had penile conversion surgery.

“I don’t do well with might-have-beens,” she says. “I resent that I was manipulated into that surgery by every signpost in the culture. I was not aware of other possibilities at the time. I was a total subscriber to the Binary and to the genitals by which it stands.

“I knew I wasn’t BOY, I knew I wasn’t MAN. Neither of those categories fit for me. It didn’t feel right, I have no idea why. I tried for thirty some odd years and it didn’t work. The only other option I saw in the culture was GIRL, or WOMAN. Nowhere did I see that it was okay to be a “real woman”—which I believed in—with a penis! So the next step was get rid of the penis. This insistence on the Binary and the genital imperative that signals the Binary coerced me into that. If I knew everything that I know now, would I do it again? Yes. Absolutely yes, because sex is so much more fun now.”

Back to this idea of the Third Space, how do we get there?

“Cyberspace would be a doorway into the Third Space,” according to Bornstein. “Cyberspace frees us up from the restrictions placed on identity by our bodies. It allows us to explore more kinds of relationships.

“I can go online as anything. I go online as various kinds of women. I've gone online as a guy a couple of times; I’m playing a stable boy in a vampire scenario now. I’ve gone online as different monsters. I’ve gone online as Mr. Spock in a ‘Star Trek’ scenario.

“Cross-gender identity surfing online is so telling: Men slum and women step into the trappings of power as men. You talk to a man after he’s been a woman online and he'll usually laugh and describe some kind of sex he had, usually lesbian sex. But you talk to a woman who's been surfing as a man, there’s this spark there. There’s this wonder. There's this—'They really do have this power!’ As soon as men cop to the idea that women are learning this, they’re gonna be more frightened.”

Bingo.

In Gender Outlaw, Bornstein asks: “If wealth and power are important, and if in this world wealth and power belong to men, then why did I cease being a man and give up that wealth and power?"

Some male-to-female transsexuals argue—often in response to being excluded from women-born-women only clubs—that they didn’t have a real male experience because they were never real males. Bornstein’s not buying it. “I had a bona fide male experience—of course I did. I’ve been bar-mitzvah’d. I hated it. Being male and hating it sets up a fugue experience. It’s definitely a form of madness. | think one way of dealing with the madness is to say it never really happened. That’s a legitimate way of dealing with it, but the fact of the matter is, I spent over thirty years of my life as a man or boy. I did not like it. I hated it. I drank a lot. I did a lot of drugs. I played a lot of arcade games.”

Once you've altered your gender, it’s gotta seem like anything’s possible. The whole world must open up. Does that mean that transgender stuff is the final frontier? Bornstein doesn’t think so.

She believes that once people get a grip on the idea of the Third Space, and transgender stuff becomes passé, we're probably gonna have to look at other binary divisions. “What are the differences between animals and humans? What are the differences between plants and animals? What about artificial intelligence, androids like Data from “Star Trek?” They're gonna be around. | think the gender binary is the one most firmly entrenched in our culture simply because it’s the one that capitalism trades on the most, other than class. We haven't confronted class. A minor communist uprising in Eastern Europe is not dealing with class. Certainly, the United States has never dealt with class. I think the fact that my book actually got published by a respectable publisher is an indicator that the culture is ready to chew on gender, whereas I don’t think the American culture is as ready to chew on class.

“I'd say gender is the last apparent frontier. It’s the frontier that’s just become illuminated. It’s titillating. In public relations terms it’s sexy. In sex terms it’s sexy. It’s a movement, a real live movement—ready or not, here we come!”

Meanwhile, back on 16th Street.

I take a few more steps, then my brain turns over and I say to myself, “Fuck this shit.”

I stop, turn around, walk back, and stand in front of the first guy. “You say something to me?”

He’s shocked. He starts stuttering and shaking his head.

“Uh…uh…no…I was just…I mean…he was just…I mean…he wanted to know—"

I interrupt him.

“Something about knocking somebody around?”

He starts stuttering again.

“Uh…no…uh, I was just… I mean, he just… I mean, I was just saying—"

I interrupt him again.

“You know what it sounded like you said? It sounded like you said you wanted to suck my dick.”

“Uh…uh… your dick?” He looks at my crotch to see if I have one.

(I do, but it’s back at my apartment.)

“Yeah,” I say, “that’s what it sounded like you said. I think you want to suck my dick, don't you?”

He looks at my crotch again, then he looks back at my face. He grins, still stuttering.

Uh...well...I, I, I... I wouldn't mind.”

“That's what I thought,” I say, and walk away.

For an almost complete collection of Bornsteiniana, start with Gender Outlaw (Routledge), go directly to The Last Sex, Arthur and Mary-Louise Kroker (St. Martins Press), and keep an eye out for performances of Hidden: A Gender and Virtually Yours. The unsatisfied can obsessively watch for guest appearances on Geraldo.

#was looking at old cyberpunk magazines and this one just happened to have an interview with bornstein in it what a treat 😊 #warning for some dated editorializing as you can imagine but its still cool to see where gender politics were three decades ago #kate bornstein #gender outlaw #mondo 2000 #///

[utilitycaster]

Threatened this once as a throwaway tag, so: let's talk about why "Justice for Adeen Tasithar" as an attempted criticism of Essek is absolutely wild as a choice.

Disclaimer: there are many deeply annoying fans of Essek who do not seem to understand that the narrative and the cast (and by extension, merch/official art/comics) will treat him differently for being an NPC, even if he is a very important NPC and a member of the Mighty Nein, and you are justified in being annoyed. There are also a number of equally annoying Essek haters, most of whom are bitter shippers who have (correctly) realized it's slightly more palatable to others in the fandom to openly hate on Essek than on a PC; or else they are the miserable souls who think that every minute spent on a character other than their personal favorite stolen and wasted time. I am a firm believer in this post; everyone is annoying and complaining on your own blog about it is your absolute right. Also, both in regards to the fans mentioned above and the characters mentioned below, it is possible for people on two opposite sides of a position to both suck.

The first issue is the phrase itself; it co-opts a statement usually used for victims of hate crimes or political prisoners in the real world, and makes it unironically about a pretend guy who had precisely one scene, which is certainly a choice. I'm not actually opposed to using "Justice for" jokingly in fandom, but it is weird to use it relatively seriously in fandom.

The second is that Adeen Tasithar is a member of one of the Dens of the Kryn Dynasty, and is a Taskhand, a term reserved for people with high-level military responsibilities, and is a member of the Bright Queen's Court. During wartime. Coupled with the fact that Essek, who, as described below, is never portrayed as particularly cruel nor petty despite his many flaws, thinks Adeen genuinely does suck, this means that at best, Adeen Tasithar is heavily involved in military operations at a very high level and is in some way personally unpleasant. At, frankly, not even worst, we're talking D&D Donald Rumsfeld. Now, we can debate whether Essek is a war criminal or merely traitorous (not on this post though, because I don't care and it's not relevant), but, while we know very little about Adeen Tasithar, it's not an overreach to say that this man has a pretty strong chance of being guilty of his own war crimes. In general, calling for justice is something I'd hesitate to use in an "the enemy of my enemy" manner, especially if it's well within reason to consider that you're talking about Ludinus Da'leth's Kryn counterpart.

The third is that while you're under no obligation to like Essek, he really is, in general, portrayed as a decent judge of character and a terrible judge of whether selfishly following his own ambition was appropriate and what the consequences might be. He detests the members of the Cerberus Assembly with whom he works; he likes the Mighty Nein despite them ultimately being his potential undoing. He has a few friends in the Dynasty and cares about his (unambiguously good) brother, and feels remorse about his father. Essek has done terrible things in the service of his goals; but directly throwing an innocent under the bus (vs. setting into motion things that will, as a side effect, lead to innocent collateral damage, which he obviously will do) isn't his style. Again, at the very least, Adeen Tasithar is someone whom Essek genuinely believes is a bad person (note that Essek, by this time, also considers himself to be a bad person, and Trent Ikithon to be a "fuck hole", which might help your understanding of scale here). This doesn't mean Tasithar deserves what he got, but frankly, in a campaign about people who got a lot of things they didn't deserve, it's a pretty blatant straw-grasp onto a side character with the briefest of appearances to decide he's your poster boy victim just so that you can go full spiked bat on a character you dislike.

The fourth is that there's never any connection to how Essek not being friends with the Mighty Nein (or entering a relationship with Caleb) would provide justice for Adeen Tasithar, who is in an Empire prison by the end following the exchange during peace talks. It's actually entirely possible that the Empire eventually figures things out re: Adeen, notably because memory modification as a criminal act is going to be really fresh in their minds following the Ikithon trial (and if they interrogate Trent, it's also possible the Empire finds out about Essek). Essek is already a fugitive from the Dynasty and cannot move freely through the Empire as a drow whom assembly members would recognize. The guy didn't get off scot free anyway, so really, he is going to suffer to some extent; you just want him to experience abject and total misery, rather than constant fear tempered with a small degree of happiness, like some kind of sicko, or megachurch member.

The final one is that "justice for Yeza Brenatto" or "I don't like that Essek worked with the Assembly even if he wasn't happy about it" would actually be far more reasonable statements to make. Yeza was, in fact, a simple alchemist who was forced to become a pawn in the game being played by, among other people, Essek, and suffered immensely for it. The Assembly does in fact suck. And yet, rather than admit Caleb also considered working with the Assembly for selfish reasons, or that Veth, you know, exists people jump to woobify some random NPC about whom we know basically nothing other than "Military guy, well-connected politically."

So anyway: feel however you want about Essek; but if you're on Adeen Tasithar's bandwagon, I don't think you actually are terribly bothered by hypothetical fictional war crimes. I think you just are too spineless and online to say "I dislike Essek" and needed to construct an elaborate poor reason why.

#i feel like tagging this discourse is elevating it above what it is. this is straight up fanwank and I'm well aware of that #but if you need it tagged lmk #cr tag #queue