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#I've forgotten how to tag things it's been so long
unsealed-box · 5 months
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This one's special so it gets it's own box...
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gasstationpopcorn · 3 months
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rosiegirlie · 18 days
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15 QUESTIONS FOR 15 FRIENDS
tagged by @softspeirs
Are you named after anyone? — nope ! My parents cared more about the meaning of my name than naming me after someone
When was the last time you cried? — a couple of days ago on the anniversary of my grandma's passing
Do you have kids? — no and I never want them lol
What sports do you play / have you played? — I "played" soccer and danced when I was young but I was more of a theater kid
Do you use sarcasm? — sometimes, but not really tbh. I think it's funny and I love it though
What is the first thing you notice about a person? — beyond appearance it's probably their sense of humor and whether or not I feel like I need to tone myself down to match their energy level
What's your eye color? — hazel
Scary movies or happy endings? — I go through phases of being obsessed with both so I feel like I can't choose but ! for right now I'll say scary movies
Any talents? — I am so good at napping
Where were you born? — Kansas
What are your hobbies? — I like to read and cross stitch ! I also love making playlists and working on outlines for WIPs I most likely will never write
How tall are you? — 5'6"
Favorite subject in school? — English
Dream job? — something simple that pays the bills and lets me still have a life
tagging — anyone who wants to please consider yourself tagged!! I wish I knew people to tag !
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anguis-sapphire · 8 months
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mmmph you can tell if negative feelings are persistent if the song you always jam out to is not helping with them
I was distracted by Several Happenings in the process of making this post but i'm still saying screw it and posting it
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madamescarlette · 2 years
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It's important to me as my primary cr1 mutuals that you know that She's Always A Woman is THE Perc'ahlia song out there for me, the associations are so strong for me now (also I Know Places)
okokokokok so I FINALLY got a chance to sit down and listen and had a nice lil cry over how stupidly DEAR AND SWEET THIS SONG IS. She can lead you to love????? She is frequently kind / and she's suddenly cruel???? She'll bring out the best and the worst you can be?????
SCREAMS!!! What a perfect and gentle way to sum up all the contradictions of who Vex is!! And the steady constant way that Perce sees her. There is something so unbearably affectionate and loving about the tone of this song that's so!!!!! much to me and I'm so grateful. Your mind ma'am Grace darling!!!
I Know Places is also an equally sweet song for Vex's side, it gives me all the Briarwoods arc feelings! There is indeed something very very very lovely about someone who will take your hand and run away with you when you are going through the lowest patch of your life and finds a way for you to still be yourself through it all.
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neverendingford · 2 months
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#tag talk#I like my therapist a lot. had another appointment and she's way more thorough about the initial screenings and my last therapist wasn't.#anyway today was a questionnaire about trauma and so I sat on my bed huddled in blankets and she was like heyy you gonna be okay?#largely not okay because Easter was yesterday so you know.. religious christian holidays be that way.#but I didn't cry during the session at all and she was cool and said some good things that I have now forgotten of course.#still didn't tell her about boofing everclear and fucking up my gi tract for a week or so (idk how long it's been)#but she was like “you don't have to tell me. I already get that you do risky behavior” cause I told her about my grindr escapades already.#her earnestness does make me want to get better.#often when people are obnoxious about my issues I just double down as a “fuck you” to them. so I'm glad we've got a good rapport instead.#I didn't get a chance to talk about plurality but it's fine cause I don't think it's they big of a deal. just another coping skill I have.#she did specifically recognize and congratulate me on the fact that I've deliberately worked on coping skills which felt really good.#like. I used to not be able to fall asleep so I practiced it and now I can. I used to startle really easily but I practiced and now I don't.#I have done deliberate effort to overcome my issues and usurp!#*usually people don't notice because they just see the successful outcome.#so it's nice for someone to recognize the work I've put into overcoming my trauma responses even as a kid
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islandofsages · 2 months
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HEYY!! I love your writing from what i've read and i was wondering if i could ask for a gn reader (yuu) teaching the housewardens about like classic fandom lore- like imagine them turning into matpat to explain fnaf and undertale!! 😭😭 feel free to not do this and have a good day!! Thanks :D
characters: housewardens x gn!yuu
tags: platonic, fluff, crack kinda, imagines format
warnings: swearing
author's notes: SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG also all the fandoms mentioned here are all fandoms ive been in at some point :D fun times mhm
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Riddle Rosehearts
He knows you’re very passionate about fandom culture but you never really had the chance to infodump about it to him
Until one day, you drop by Heartslabyul for a leisurely visit, when you see a not-so-clearly distressed Riddle sitting in the lounge
Not-so-clearly meaning he’s holding a teacup in his hand yet not drinking it, eyes closed as if he’s holding in all his emotions
You grow worried at this sight and slide next to him on the couch where he is seated, hoping you can help alleviate some of that stress
He sees you and he allows himself a sigh, then musters up a smile for you. He greets you and you cut straight to the point - can you help him with anything?
He releases a second sigh and shakes his head, telling you he only needs some sort of distraction. He just had a long day and needs to take his mind off things
You take a second to think of things that you can distract him with – that’s when a lightbulb goes off in your head. This is a prime opportunity for you
“Okay, I’m guessing you haven’t heard of Five Nights at Freddy’s since it’s a franchise from my world and all but the lore is crazy. So it starts like this…”
He wasn’t expecting to be paying much attention to the contents of what you’re saying but sooner or later, he ends up leaning towards you with his hand cupping his chin, mouth slightly agape at the story you’re telling
This inspires you to dump even more information about the media somehow at the rate that you’re going
By the end of it, he’s completely forgotten what he was so worried about. His head is full of creepy pizzerias for kids and haunted animatronics
He ends up having some trouble sleeping that night though. He’ll get you for that later.
Leona Kingscholar
He won’t lie, your interest in fandoms is too reminiscent of Idia for him – he doesn’t admit this to you obviously, since he hasn’t had the chance to
But on one particularly boring day, you decide to skip class with him and he lets you tag along for the hell of it
In the span of three seconds, he’s already off in dreamland. Sometimes you wish you had such a skill
Since you have nothing better to do and he’s way too deep in his sleep to even care anyway, you start rambling to yourself and a slumbering Leona
“Well, I’ve been thinking a lot about Undertale lately so I need to dump it all somewhere. So basically you play as this kid…”
Little do you know halfway through his nap, he wakes up from how much you’re talking. At first, he’s annoyed by your yapping but then he grows interest in what you’re saying
He’s almost tempted to try that game for himself and almost disappointed that it’s not available in Twisted Wonderland. Emphasis on almost.
When you’re done rambling, that’s when he stretches his arms over his head and yawn, commenting how noisy you were
You shrug it off. You're used to him complaining about you yapping instead of napping alongside him
…But then he asks you to tell him more about Undertale, if there's any more information you’re keeping from him out of the kindness of your heart
You smile smugly at this and his expression seems to say “don't make me regret asking” but oh, you definitely will make him regret even being friends with you in the first place
Needless to say, regrets were not the only thing he held at the end of that day.
Azul Ashengrotto
Similar to Leona, your fixation on fandom culture reminds him too much of Idia. not that that’s necessarily a bad thing - it’s more of an observation
And he gets more than an observation when you get the chance to show him what you’re made of: useless fandom culture and gaming knowledge
Speaking of Idia, he goes to you as a last resort to ask you to help him understand whatever the hell Idia’s talking about
You don’t know too much about Twisted Wonderland’s fandom culture just yet but when Azul explains the premise of a certain game and its fandom, it gives you an idea
“Sounds pretty similar to Yandere Simulator. Ooh, that one has a lot of history. Let me tell you about it…”
Unfortunately for him, he ended up unlocking your geekiness instead of having you address the things he was confused with
But at least your story makes it a bit easier to understand? He’s yet to decide that really but at least it sounds like you’re taking his lack of slang knowledge into consideration
Your infodump really gripped his attention though - it’s interesting to know another side of human culture, even if it’s not the humans of Twisted Wonderland
He would nod understandingly (or at least, politely) and thank you and your geekiness
He relays your story to Idia and finds it intriguing how similar fandom culture is in both Twisted Wonderland and your world
He would invite you to Board Game Club meetings so that you can rave and find out more about Twisted Wonderland’s fandom culture with Idia
He’d realize that was a big mistake and he may or may not have created the nerdiest pair in the world - but you guys are his nerdiest pair in the world.
Kalim Al-Asim
He’s very curious about fandom culture - he doesn’t know too much about it nor anyone who knows a lot about it so almost all the fandom information in his head are from you
He really wants to know more!!! So of course that warrants a hangout session fabricated as a study session to get Jamil’s stamp of approval
So there you are in his room, books laid out in front of the two of you but most importantly, a laptop
You two watch about a dozen videos on Twisted Wonderland’s fandom culture and as you absorb all the very-much-useful information, you sneak in tidbits from the culture of your world
“This one in particular is reminiscent of Danganronpa. Man, that one was a wild ride…”
It’s exciting to be able to talk about it with someone you trust wholeheartedly, especially Kalim, whom you know wouldn’t be so judging
He only nods in understanding at every point you made, his eyes sparkling with all the curiosity in his body
You were on your thirteenth video when you two are interrupted by a rap on the door and an unfortunately-familiar voice
So obviously you and your bestie hurriedly rush to close all the tabs on your laptop and open up something more academically-inclined
Which is obviously a…dictionary site
Jamil blinks twice at this, says nothing (but probably noting how it makes sense for you guys since you two are bumbling idiots) and walks away
If there’s any dictionary being read that day, it’d be a dictionary of fandom terminology, that’s for sure.
Vil Schoenheit
He doesn’t know too much about it - and doesn’t bother to learn much about it since he has better things to do - but since it’s you, he tries his best to be a good listener
The two of you sit down in the courtyard one day, the chirping of birds and rustling of leaves music to your ears; beauty truly is everywhere around you when you’re next to him
He’s talking about something. You’re not sure what because you’re entranced by the way his hair hangs above his eyes so elegantly. He notices this and calls you out for it
You shrug and excuse how you can’t help it - he’s like a dating simulator love interest in the real. He asks you what you mean by this. Now’s your chance to shine!
“Hmm, you know, something like Mystic Messenger? Hehe, let me tell you a bit about it…”
Unluckily for him, your “a bit” turns out to be a four-hour long ramble about the aforementioned dating simulator a little too reminiscent of Rook for his liking too
Despite his reservations, he really did enjoy hearing you talk so passionately about your interest; it’s a bonus that the topic itself is interesting
He tells you he wouldn’t mind trying out the game or at least finding out more about it though unfortunately it’s not available in Twisted Wonderland
You share his shame - until he says he’ll pitch the concept of the game to some authorities he know and perhaps make it a reality
Sorry, he’s going to what now?
You’re a little shaken. Sometimes you forget he’s a world-class model, despite his looks and mannerisms. You save your nerves for if a Twisted Wonderland version of Mystic Messenger actually ends up happening
He thanks you for enlightening him about fandom and video gaming culture. You use this as a cue to add another four hours of ranting about V’s route in the game.
Idia Shroud
You’re another victim for him to taint… or so he thought. You’re more of an ally than a victim at this point, considering how nerdy you are
He’d dump fandom lore on you and you’d reciprocate it right back. He’s genuinely so impressed with your knowledge, even if they differ by some degree due to being from different worlds
He gets more impressed when you pull up with knowledge about Twisted Wonderland’s fandom culture like damn, you really brushed up on your talking points already
Friendly rivalry aside, he really does enjoy talking about fandom culture with you and hearing about the things from your world - every story you tell adds a little color into his world
One day, the two of you are leaning on each other, on your phones because of course you are, even if you two are friends, talking still isn’t Idia’s strong suit
That’s when you blurt it out–
“Hey, wanna hear about this game called Persona? It’s a turn-based RPG and…”
Regardless of his response to your question, you ended up babbling away either way. It’s how conversations start between the two of you
You’re speaking so fast, he would have mistaken you for a rapper - or a doppelganger of himself even
Consider him entertained - he finds himself smiling by the end of your yapping and intrigued by your story
He then obviously starts to relate it to something from Twisted Wonderland, passing the listener baton to you
You don’t mind – you can stay there for hours and hours, just going back and forth with your fellow nerdy-ass friend.
Malleus Draconia
This man barely knows how to use a smartphone so you had to be a little patient with him when guiding him through the fandom culture trenches
He’s happy that you trust and cherish him enough to talk about your interests with no reservations or shame – and the feeling is mutual
On a certain weekend, the two of you are hanging out as usual. Chatting as friends would do
You don’t know why but the conversation reminded you of a certain fandom
“It’s kinda like Genshin’s community, I guess. They’re a riot, let me tell you that.”
Oh? What’s a Genshin and why is its community a riot?
You’re glad he asked – because you’ve prepared a 100-slide presentation on the history of the game and its fans
He asks you why and how did you find the time to make that. You tell him to shut up and that it doesn’t matter, he just needs to listen to you
You start and it feels like you’ll never stop – there’s just so much to say and Malleus has so much time in the world
Seeing his reactions to certain events makes you crack up and at times, you’d laugh at his shocked expressions (or sigh exhaustively, depending on the event you’re explaining)
When you finally stop, he gives you a one-man standing ovation. You blush a little at the attention and unexpected reaction but you appreciate his sentiment nonetheless. He tells you that your presentation has been very informative for him
You’re relieved to have been able to get that off your chest… and Malleus is more than ecstatic to relay the information to everyone he’s ever known. You obviously pretend that you had no involvement in his sudden investment of a game from another world.
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cerisereids · 18 days
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a/n: having a lot of thoughts about beefy dad bod hotch thanks very much to this post from @jaden-treesters and the reblog tags that came along with it (specifically from what @hotchfiles said about him gaining weight i took that and ran)
warnings: there’s some discussion of body insecurities so don’t read if that’s triggering for you!
⭑・゚゚・*:༅。.。༅:*゚:*:✼✿  ✿✼:*゚:༅。.。༅:*・゚゚・⭑
during his time at the bureau, aaron hotchner has put on a few pounds, 'beefed up' as rossi and morgan like to tell him. he knows it's natural. he's a father, he's incredibly busy, bodies change. it happens. knowing that still doesn't stop the feeling of dread creeping through his stomach, all the way through to his chest, wrapping itself around his throat when he sees how tight his shirts have been fitting lately. he's never been a fashion guru, that much is for certain, but he notices the ways in which the cotton hugs certain parts of his body he'd rather kept hidden. the way his arms bulge in the fabric, the fullness of his tummy showing through the pudge that flows just slightly over the waist of his pants. natural or not, it makes him a little insecure, knowing that he shows signs of aging in such a way. he doesn't have much time to feel too bad, though, not with you around.
you meet him in the conference room one cozy morning. it's early, before the rest of your coworkers show up, one thing you and your workaholic boyfriend have in common. he sees the way your eyes light up when you see him, and he can't miss the way your eyes hungrily trail down his body. he grows self conscious for a moment, trying to hide that extra pudge by holding a case file in front of his tummy. you will be having none of that, though, and he should've known. it's not long until you've crossed the room entirely, hands flying over every inch of his softness. the warmth from your hands spreads through his body, coating his skin in a sugary sweet warmth he hadn't allowed himself to feel before he met you. the sweetness of your touch distracts him so much that it takes him a moment to register the feeling of your warm, wet lips following in the wake of your hands. you're kissing everywhere you can, his suit jacket long forgotten on the floor. his eyes close as your lips trail down his arms, focusing heavily on his biceps, your hands squeezing and rubbing over the fabric. you unbutton only the top button on his dress shirt, kissing his chest and neck there while your hands untuck the shirt, rubbing over his soft tummy with newfound stretch marks littering the skin there. he shudders, goosebumps awakening all over his skin, the hairs standing up. just as your hands began to drop tantalizingly low, you move them up to cup his jaw, forcing his eyes to bore into yours. "you're beautiful," you whisper, placing a sweet kiss on his lips, which he accepts greedily. "but i've-" "i don't want to hear it," you cut off what would have been a self deprecating comment on his weight, you both knew that, by placing a finger over his lips. "you are the most delicious..." you begin, placing a kiss behind his ear, "the most beautiful..." another one, along his neck, "the most handsome..." another one, this time to his cheek, "...sweetest guy i've ever met," you punctuate your thoughts with another kiss to his lips. aaron whimpers, and he can feel your prideful smile widen against him. you've always loved being the one to reduce the aaron hotchner to a puddle of mush. you pull away reluctantly, hands resting in his belt loops. "i think rossi just got here," you breathe against his lips, "fix yourself up." you wink at him, leaving him to clean up your mess with a swift slap on his butt. he chuckles breathlessly, watching your figure retreat and greet rossi as if you weren't seconds away from debauchery in the conference room.
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msbigredmachine · 4 months
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Warm (Jey Uso/OC)
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An on-again, off-again couple takes the snowy ride to the next town together.
PAIRING: Jey Uso x OC
Word Count: 6.3k
Warning: The usual smut and everything in between.
A/N: First fic of the year! Enjoy!
Click here if you want to be on the tag list. If I’ve forgotten anyone please let me know so I can add you.
Credit to the owners of the pics and gifs.
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"Hey girl, got a sec?"
Looking up to see Nia standing right in front of her, Malia stood up straighter. The locker room was full of her friends and fellow wrestlers, all done for the evening and packing up to leave the arena. "What's up?"
"I totally forgot that I agreed to carpool with Maxxine after the show," she said as they exited the locker room together. "I'm really sorry, it totally slipped my mind."
"Oh, that sucks," Malia said, a little disappointed as Nia was great company. "It's no big deal. I'll figure something out."
"Are you sure? It's starting to snow out there. Will you be okay on your own?"
"Alone on the road with full control of the heating and my own playlist?" Malia laughed. "I'll be fine."
Nia nodded. "Okay. I feel bad, so I'll ask around and see if anyone needs a ride. That way you can split the bills and stuff," she offered, pausing when she looked over Malia's shoulder. "Oooh, look who's coming our way," she grinned.
Curious, Malia turned around, and her heart skipped a beat as Josh Fatu walked in their direction, his carry-on behind him and his phone in front of him. She plastered an unbothered expression on her face and turned back to Nia, but the Irresistible Force saw right through the facade.
"Girl, you're blushing already!" she cackled. "You and him still fucking?"
"No, I'm not blushing. And no, we're not fucking," Not lately anyway, Malia added to herself, fluffing her Afro as nonchalantly as possible.
"Liar. You two crack me up, you're totally in love with each other but keep acting like you're not. I did warn you about the whole friends-with-benefits thing."
She did. And Malia caught feelings and had been trying to run from those feelings since. But not with much success, given that she and Josh were both part of the Monday Night Raw roster and lived in the same goddamn city which gave him plenty of access to her. The problem was she was falling in love and he wasn't, so she tried to save face by imposing an extended 'break' from each other, under the guise of 'seeing other people'. Being alone with him on a long midnight drive wasn't going to help her cause to break away.
"It's a three-hour trip from here to Cleveland. Think you can hold off for that long if you go together?" Nia asked, a little too gleefully for Malia's taste.
"Stop with the slander. You make it sound like I'm this raging nympho," she rebuffed.
"When it comes to him? Yes! I've witnessed it! You jump each other's bones every chance you get. How you guys aren't official, I'll never understand. He's getting closerrrr," Nia sang, clearly enjoying the way Malia was trying not to squirm. "Let me go talk to him."
Malia started to panic as Nia moved towards him. "Where are you going?" she warned, "Nia, no!"
"Um, you want a ride or not? Hey, Joshyyyy!"
"Savelina!" Malia hissed, falling silent when Josh looked up from his phone, his gaze lingering on her for a long, tense beat before moving to Nia. "Sup ladies," he said, tipping his bearded chin up in greeting. His jaw moved repeatedly, and she saw he was chewing gum when he opened his mouth to speak. Juicy Fruit, she predicted. His favorite.
"I heard you're driving by yourself tonight," Nia said to him.
His eyebrows rose skeptically. "Yeah..."
"You want a passenger? Cuz my girl over here needs someone to ride with, in more ways than one..."
"Lina, shut up," Malia cut in, stepping in front of her and meeting Josh head-on. "Forgive our friend, Becky hit her in the head too many times tonight," she explained, her insides warming when Jey laughed. "I was supposed to carpool with bitch over here but she made other plans and left me stranded. So umm...if you're going alone, would you mind if I tagged along?" Why the fuck did she sound like she was asking him to Prom?
Again, the air around them simmered with an unknown element. When he took longer than usual to respond, her heart sank a little. "It's cool if you don't want to, I can find someone else-"
"Nah, it's all good, uce, you can come along," he spoke up with a smile. "But I'm 'bout to leave right now, so if you ready-"
"I am," Malia answered, a bit too quickly, and flushed with embarrassment when the corner of his mouth curled upward in a bemused smile. It was then she realized that Nia had disappeared, leaving the two standing alone in the empty hallway.
"Uhh...We should get going," Malia spoke up, scratching awkwardly at the nape of her curly Afro.
Josh nodded, pausing as his eyes scanned her up and down again. "This what you wearin'?" he inquired.
She made a quick, albeit thorough twirl to show off her outfit, a short, figure-hugging beige dress accompanied by a black pair of furry knee-high Uggs. "Yeah, why? What's wrong with it?"
"It's a lil' chilly, no? I mean, don't get me wrong, you look real good, it's just-" Catching himself, he trailed off nervously before he could say anything else inappropriate.
"My jacket is right here, I'll be fine. But if I do get too cold, I'm sure you can keep me warm." Her smile was syrupy sweet as she let the innuendo sink in. The awkwardness was melting away, leaving only the sexual synergy they were both accustomed to.
Josh chuckled to himself and stepped closer to her. "A'ight, I see what'chu tryna do," he said in a lower, huskier timbre that made her loins flutter. "Let's get outta here before I do sum'n we'll both like."
She wanted to ask what was stopping him but instead took the hand he held out to her. It was big and protective and the gentle way he rubbed his thumb over hers always made her feel safe. Together they left the building and into the indoor parking lot. He helped her put her things in the trunk of his Ford Expedition rental, and she fought the urge to stare at his ass when he bent over.
As they began their journey, her gaze landed on her on-again, off-again 'boyfriend', his own fixed on the road ahead. Wearing a fitting dual-colored Nike tracksuit, he looked yummy himself. The hand that had held hers was now on the steering wheel, and she found herself wishing it was touching her again but on a more risqué part of her body this time. They were on a 'break' but she envisioned a lot of difficulty keeping things platonic tonight.
"Since when do you listen to Bon Jovi?" She broke the ice several minutes later, talking over the eighties rock ballad that was playing on the radio and was surprised it hadn't been turned off. "You always used to tell me to change that shit," she laughed.
"They not so bad, they got some good workout songs," he defended with a shrug. "How come you didn't take a flight tonight?" he asked.
She gave a shrug of her own. "I don't know. I probably should have. But with the weather and everything, there'd probably be tons of delays at the airport. I would have ended up sitting there all night. How about you?"
"Same. I prefer the open road anyway," he replied. "Drive fast, blast some good music, you know what it is." He shot her a grin, making selections on the GPS. "Everything good? You comfortable?"
Smoothing her dress down her crossed legs, she nodded and tilted her seat back. "Yeah, I'm good," she responded.
"So how was Christmas? Whatchu do? Spend time with your man?" Josh asked.
Malia snorted and flipped her hair. "Ain't no man. He's an insecure bum so he's gone. I stayed with my brother and his family for a few days, played with my nieces, they're so big now."
He wanted to feel bad about the way his heart leapt for joy about her relationship status. "I told you he was a bum from the jump, uce," he mumbled.
"Well, you were right. Congrats," she bit sarcastically.
"I ain't wanna be right though. I just want you to be happy," said Josh, exchanging a glance with her, his stare filled with its familiar warmth that was charged with something else.
Being here is a bad idea.
"What about you? You were with your boys and their mom, I'm guessing," she kept the conversation going.
"More of the boys, less of their mom," he clarified.
"That's it? No woman to warm your bed?"
He snorted and shot her a bombastic side-eye. "If I remember clearly, you sent the last woman I was with packin', with your razor-sharp ass tongue."
Malia burst out laughing. "Ha, that bitch? She's a clout-chasing airhead. One conversation with her and my IQ got fucked up. Stop messin' with those NXT bimbos, Joshua. It's not a good look."
"Why you so pressed though?" He had an idea, but he wanted to hear it straight from the horse's mouth.
"I'm not pressed. You smarter than that. She wasn't good for you."
"And you know this, how?"
Because she ain't me. None of them are. "I just know," was all she said.
"Huh. We seem to 'know' a lot about each other," Josh noted, "So why don't you want us to stay together?" he asked.
And there it is. "You already know the answer," she responded, with a hint of attitude.
"No I don't, so how 'bout you fill me in, huh," he retorted. They had stopped at a red light so he now had all the time to look her in the eye.
Exhaling a heavy sigh, she refused to get suckered in. "Because. Your roster is deep enough as it is," she mumbled.
"What roster?"
Malia huffed and crossed her arms over her chest. "Oh, we gonna play dumb now? I'm not the only woman you're fucking, Joshua."
"The last person I had sex with was you, right before you dumped me for ol' boy," Josh replied, annoyance creeping into his tone.
"Correction. I did not dump you. Dumping implies that we were dating," Malia argued. "I distinctly remember you saying you weren't looking for nothin' serious, so it ain't dumping if there's no relationship to dump."
The silence that followed was deafening, even with the music playing. The temperature in the car plummeted several degrees. Josh simply shook his head. "Damn, that how you feel all this time? Okay then." he tsked, releasing the brakes as the light turned green. "A'ight. Note taken."
The hurt swirling in his voice surprised her. Rattled, she opened her mouth to speak, but wisely decided to close it back. Because there really was nothing to say. This was the consequence of getting involved with someone without setting clear boundaries; the result of repeatedly holding off the simple task of defining a relationship — nothing but uncertainty and heartache. It was the bed she made long ago and now she had to lie in it.
But oddly enough, that seemed to be the appeal of entanglements; the thrill, the warped sense of freedom to do whatever you wanted to each other with no strings. But intimacy always had its attachments, and Malia had been attached to Josh for a long, long time with no idea how to cut the strings without getting hurt.
"The snow seems to be getting worse," she changed the subject and with good reason. They seemed to be driving into a storm. The snowfall was heavier and the nearly empty highway was turning white. "Are you sure we'll make it into Cleveland like this?"
Her question was answered only a few seconds later, by the flashing lights and flares up ahead. A car wreck, and a bad one judging from the amount of fire, rescue, and police crews on the scene. As Josh slowed the car to a crawl, they were greeted by a gruesome tableau.
The many bright, flashing lights cast a grotesque glow on the crumpled remains of an SUV. A black bag, zipped and strapped to a stretcher, was being loaded into the back of an ambulance. Malia's eyes widened with horror. The mangled car was the same type as theirs, and the driver's seat was covered in blood, a lot of it splattered on the white snow. "Oh no...Babe..." she breathed.
Her voice was tiny. Scared. Josh grabbed her hand and squeezed it repeatedly to get her attention. "Ay, don't look. Look at me," he cajoled, waiting for her to do so, running his thumb over hers to quell her panic. "I'll take the next exit. Let's find somewhere to crash until morning." He cringed. "Bad choice of words. Sorry."
"You don't mind stopping?" she asked, feeling a little sick. There was no way she was going any further with what she'd just witnessed.
"Personally, I'd rather be late gettin' where I'm going than never gettin' there at all."
"I agree. I'll check if there's any available hotels nearby," she offered, reaching for her phone in the console.
"You good?" he checked on her again, his fingers flexing around hers.
"I'm okay. It's just...that was horrible," Malia shuddered. "But you calmed me down. You've always been good at that." She smiled gratefully at him.
"Mm-hmm," he mumbled, as he lifted the back of her hand to his lips in a gentle kiss. He then rested his hand on her bare leg, running it up her smooth chocolate skin. Ironically, her dress gave him perfect access to the sensitivity of her inner thigh, and he allowed his fingers to dance over it.
Malia cast her eyes down to watch his hand disappear under her dress. This was what she liked about him so much; his boldness, his sense of adventure. Only he could dare to touch on her while driving on a dark, sleety highway. "Boy, what are you doin'?" she asked as he squeezed her thigh. She tried to play it cool, tried to act like her skin had not been set ablaze by his touch.
"Keepin' you warm," he affirmed nonchalantly, as he slid his palm over her lace panties, his favorite on her, enjoying the feel of her moist warmth against the fabric. He had since learned that he couldn't stay mad at her for long. "I miss you," he whispered, breaching her underwear with one finger.
"I miss you too," she admitted, jerking as the finger slipped inside of her. "Oh, shit," she gasped, tilting her head back against the leather headrest.
"Phew, you wet as fuck," Josh whistled, eyeing up his ex with a Cheshire Cat-like grin. "Ol' boy wasn't fuckin' you like he should?"
Before she could answer, he slid another digit into her wetness, drawing another moan from her. She moved her legs further apart, causing her dress to ride higher up, and grabbed his wrist with both hands. "Fuck, yeah," she sighed, going slack in her seat.
Maybe it wasn't the brightest idea, Josh realized, as the sound of her wanton moans filled the car. As her pussy tightened around his fingers. He wasn't doing much for his own erect state by doing this, but the look on her face convinced him to keep going. He leaned over and kissed her cheek, keeping his eyes on the road. "How's that feel, hmm?" he asked.
The only response she could muster was another breathy moan while strengthening her grip on his wrist. She didn't want to come just yet, but between his fingers twisting deep inside her tightening core and the added heat rushing through her, she knew she wouldn't last long. She wanted this to last forever, just like every time she was with him; she clung desperately to every second, because each one was always better than the last. He just hit different. He always did.
The spell broke when she heard him curse and he abruptly stopped, slipping his fingers out of her. "The fuck?" she whined.
"Sorry, I had to," Josh explained, pointing. The smoky haze of passion and frustration cleared quickly enough for her to realize they had left the expressway and were now pulling into the parking lot of a hotel. Crossing her arms petulantly, she sat up straighter and pouted. "Goddamn tease. You ain't slick," she grumbled.
"Nope. But you are," he emphasized, holding up his fingers covered in her essence and bringing them to his mouth. "Mmm, sweet and spicy, like always."
His dirty snicker had her pussy clenching again. This man was going to be the death of her.
Parking the Expedition in front of the hotel door, they rushed in with their bags to the check-in desk and found the exhausted-looking receptionist behind the counter. It was clear they'd had a massive influx of people and that she was the only one handling everything.
"You're just in luck. We have one room left," the lady replied when Josh asked her if they had any vacancies. "It's probably our smallest room and only has one queen-sized bed, but it's perfect for a lovely couple like yourselves," she smiled warmly.
"We'll take it," Josh responded, handing over his credit card before Malia could reject it. Given the state of the weather outside and that horrendous crash they came across, it was likely the best, safest option.
They got the keycards and made a quick stop at the nearby Chipotle to get some food. Josh paid again, boxing Malia against the counter with his big frame and frowning menacingly at the cashier who had the nerve to flirt with her. Though there technically was no territory to mark, she didn't mind. Besides, it was cold outside and his body heat was inviting and much needed. Afterwards, they returned to the hotel and made it into the small room that was warm, toasty, and quite clean, making them feel a bit better that they wouldn't be stuck in some Bates Motel-type murder house.
"Last time we were stuck in a room together, we spent all afternoon working out how many pinning combinations we could make each other come in," Malia reminisced as she bit into her burrito.
"Yeah. I remember winning," Josh grinned proudly. "You can have the bed, by the way," he gestured to her. "Imma sleep on the couch, give you some space."
"Why?" Malia gave him a stern look. "The bed is big enough for both of us. Plus, your back will be fucked up if you sleep on that lil ass couch."
She wasn't wrong; the couch felt rather firm and it wouldn't be pleasant. Josh was trying to be a gentleman, but he ultimately agreed since driving tomorrow with a backache did not sound ideal.
After finishing their meals, they settled in, and Malia texted the Talent Relations rep to inform them of her and Josh's whereabouts. Unfortunately, the weather forecast on TV was pretty grim as they were expecting upwards of forty inches of snow. Getting to their destination in time tomorrow would be a tough ask.
Josh used the bathroom first to give Malia some privacy. When he re-emerged, she was stripped down to a short white bathrobe that did nothing to hide that body of hers, giving him a little peek of her voluptuous behind as she picked up her toilet bag.
Fuck.
"Babe, do you got a spare shirt I can sleep in?" She stood back upright, her throat drying up at the sight of his towel hanging low on his hips. She watched the rivulets of water drip down his tattooed chest and felt parched.
Josh swallowed. "Sure, I got somethin'." He crossed the room, reached inside his open luggage and pulled out a 'YEET' hoodie. "This okay?"
He gazed into her eyes, and Malia felt her knees quiver, almost like they were threatening to collapse beneath her. "Yeah, thanks," she smiled, taking the hoodie.
"You called me babe again." There was a small, teasing smile on his face.
Malia felt her face burn. "Oh, um...Yeah. Habit. Sorry..." Lost for words, she quickly departed, silently willing her limbs to not give out on her.
Waiting until the door had closed behind her, Josh sank down on the bed and tried to focus on the TV. He could hear her moving around. Brushing her teeth. Undressing. Rubbing his face, he groaned when he heard the shower start. After their argument in the car and what he did afterwards, his emotions were all over the place, and now they had to share this bed. Keeping his hands to himself was going to be a tough ask.
Keep your hands to yourself, Malia repeated to herself over and over as she finished up her skincare routine. It's just one night. Behave yourself. What happened in the car meant nothing.
Yes it did, the voice she fondly named 'Delulu', debated, He misses you, he said so himself. That's why he acted the way he did in the car. That's why he almost bit that cashier's head off in Chipotle.
She had a point. She recalled the full-blown lust in his eyes as he touched her, the eager movement of his fingers inside her as though he couldn't stop himself. Overall, it felt good to know he wasn't quite over her just as she wasn't quite over him.
Don't do it, her other voice, dubbed 'You Right' because it always was, warned. You're just his plaything, always have been. Why do you want to play house with a guy who doesn't love you like you love him? He just misses the pussy. That's it.
Good point.
But I miss the dick too! 'Delulu' pouted.
'You Right' rolled her eyes. Too bad. Take another shower, a cold one this time.
With a heavy sigh, Malia wrapped up her hair and put on her pajamas for the night. The hoodie was big on her, reaching her thighs. She decided against panties, having made up her mind about the voice she was going to listen to.
She returned to the warmth of the bedroom, instantly landing on the ruggedly handsome man stretched out on the left side of the bed. His favorite side. His gaze flickered from the TV to her, his lips twitching into a small smile.
"You make my merch look so sexy, baby," he commented.
"Why thank you Daddy," she replied, then froze, her eyes wide. Shit, did she just say that out loud? Judging from the heated look in his eyes, the answer was yes. The tension in the room could be cut with a knife as they regarded each other.
Sitting up straight in the bed, Josh clapped his hands. "A'ight, enough of this. Come here," he growled.
She thought he would never ask. She hurried to the bed and crawled towards him. He sat up straighter and reached for her, their lips crashing together before he had finished pulling her onto his lap. All the weeks of pent-up urges and desires came pouring out of them both as they kissed like the desperate, needy souls they had become. They only pulled back long enough to take off his t-shirt before they embraced again. His bronzed skin was warm underneath her palms, the touch of his hands seemingly burning through the hoodie onto her own.
Without breaking the kiss, Josh shifted so that they were lying on their sides, helping her tug his sweatpants down his hips. Once they were gone, he pulled her tightly against him as he slid his leg between hers, draping her top leg over his waist. He then pushed his hands under her hoodie, his fingers digging into her waist to grind her against his thigh. Malia smiled at his surprised gasp, his realization that she was wearing his merch and only that. She knew he could feel the moistness of her core, smearing his upper thigh as their kisses got even more heated. She let him pull off the hoodie, and Josh's eyes blazed with need as he gathered her right breast in his hand and devoured it with sucks and licks. Meanwhile her hand wrapped around his dick, stroking for a few moments before easing him inside her.
"Oh, shit," Josh froze, his expression slightly panicked, "I ain't got-"
"Calm down, I still got my IUD. You good." She kissed his lips and reared back a little, letting him push fully inside her, and he ripped his mouth from hers in a low groan and tucked his face in her neck.
"Fuck, Malia..."
She moaned with him, gripping his muscular shoulders as he moved inside her, and groaned again when his hand scraped down her back to squeeze her ass cheek tightly.
"Mmmph..."
"Yeah, I know you like that," he whispered, slapping her ass this time, his breath hot and heavy against her face. "Say my name baby, call out for me."
"Joshua...Daddy..."
"Mm-hmm, I love it. God, you're fuckin' beautiful," he said, his voice rough with need as he tongue-kissed her slowly, matching his grinding thrusts, sending chills running all over her body.
"Ohhh," she gasped, tensing in his arms, bewildered by her desire for him.
"Relax. I gotchu," he promised with another hungry, borderline sloppy kiss. He was nearing the pit of her stomach with his lengthening strokes, but he wanted more. He held up her thick thigh, automatically sliding him even deeper inside her. A big smile lit up his face as her mouth fell open; he knew she could feel all of it, the head of his dick toying with her g-spot, her breathing quickening as her slick moisture made its presence known with every push of his dick into her.
"Hear that?" Josh whispered, "Hear how wet you are?"
Malia dug her nails into his skin, staccato breaths pulling from her lungs as he rammed up into her again and again. "Shit," she whined, "Aw fuck, please don't stop," she begged, tears gathering in her eyes at the thought of him ceasing his actions.
"I ain't stoppin' baby." He couldn't seem to stop kissing her, doing it again as he increased his speed, his dick all up in her wet pussy. The sensations were dizzying, taking her to another dimension. "Uuuunh," she cried out with a shudder, the flutter of her pussy around his cock sending shockwaves of pleasure through her.
"You wanna come, babe? Wanna come for Daddy huh?" He pressed his forehead against hers, his hypnotic eyes holding her gaze as her whimpers for him grew louder. "Come, Malia," he urged with gritted teeth, his heart pounding from the emotions vibrating through him. "Come, baby girl. Nut on Daddy's dick. You look so beautiful when you come."
Malia heard what sounded like waves crashing in her ears. Immediately her body seized up, and her voice was a high-pitched cry as the pleasure ripped through her. Moaning his name repeatedly, her head fell back and she saw stars as the bliss took over.
Man, she missed being touched like this, kissed like this...fucked like this.
Still trembling, she was vaguely aware of him pulling out, letting her leg down and rolling on top of her. Stroking her face, he stared at her with a mix of wonder and tenderness and something else she couldn't quite determine in his eyes.
"What?" she pressed.
Josh licked his lips, looked away for a second and then back at her.
"I love you."
She expected to be shocked, stunned by his declaration. Instead, it felt more like a eureka moment, like she had finally cracked a passcode she had been struggling with for eons, like the world had at last righted itself after an eternity of confusion.
"What took you so long?" she asked, emotion seeping through her tone.
"I don't know," he confessed, and when her brows furrowed, he elaborated. "I just know I can't do this no more. I'm fuckin' tired. I been feelin' this way for too long. You the only one that makes me feel like this."
"Like how?" she breathed. She wanted to hear it, wanted to know if his agony has been anything similar to hers for the past couple of months.
"Like I'm empty inside when I'm not with you. Even when I'm with someone else, I feel like I'm cheating on you," he went on, suddenly feeling free, unburdened. "I can't stop thinking about you, can't function...I don't just want sex, Malia. That's all good but I wanna be your man. For real this time. I want you."
There it was again, that intensity in his eyes that never failed to steal what was left of her breath. If this was a dream, she did not want to wake up. "I love you too. I wanna be with you. Let's not break up ever again. I don't like not being around you," she admitted.
"Same here," he said, covering her mouth with his. This kiss was so passionate, so deep and all-consuming, that she struggled to hang on to her sanity. She groaned against his mouth as he found his way back inside her with a couple of swift, seamless strokes. Her wetness instantly enveloped him again, prompting his hips to roll seemingly on their own accord. Malia wound her arms around him, holding him as close to her as possible. There was no more talk after that, letting their bodies do the talking, writhing together as if they were meant to exist that way.
"Wrap your legs around me, baby," he told her.
Immediately, she wound them around his waist with her ankles locked tight behind his lower back as he rocked into her. She moved with him, matching his tempo in a sweet symphony. There was no space between their flesh; and whatever tiny space remained was closed off with delicious, decadent kisses with lots of tongue. They savored every second in each other, every gasp and moan they elicited from the other. Her wetness compromised the friction between them as his dick slipped in and out of her with ease that still kept her walls snug and taut around him.
"God, you feel so good, baby," she moaned in his ear, weaving her fingers through his soft hair, anchoring him to her as though fearful that he would slip away at any given moment.
"I can feel you dripping all over my dick. You make me wanna pound this good pussy," he mumbled against her neck, his tongue swiping over her heated skin.
"Then pound it," she murmured, spearing him with a hot, hungry look when their eyes met. "Pound my pussy, Daddy, I need it," she practically begged, her voice a pleading whine.
"Bet." Caressing her thighs for a few seconds, he then propped her legs on each of his broad shoulders. Her gaze met the ceiling, clouded over with lust as he hunched over her, working his big dick in her. All she could see within the bluish hue of the small room was his larger, muscular body looming over her, like a glowing, almost nightclub-like dreamscape. His chest tattoos were a beautiful mural that she couldn't stop herself from worshiping, and she leaned up to drag her tongue along his nipple, flicking the hard bud playfully as she caressed his triceps. She was rewarded with harder snaps of his hips, his balls mashing against her ass from how deep he was digging. Every time she tried to look at it, she would grow weak from the sensitivity and fall back against the bed.
"Fuck, Joshua..."
"Mmhmm, I know it feel good. Your tight little pussy is creaming for me," he rasped. Holding her down to the bed, he circled his hips while buried in her for good measure, making her pussy greedily grip the entirety of his girthy length and wringing moans of pleasure from both of them. Dipping her hand down between her thighs, she rubbed on her clit only for her eyes to roll back as an intense fire lit inside her like a firework. Then, clearly intending to destory her, he sat back on his knees and wrapped his arms around her thighs, holding them to his chest as he thrust faster and harder.
"Oh my god," Malia sighed, planting one hand up against the headboard to steady herself. She could feel her breasts bouncing recklessly with each stroke, felt his long fingers grab one and massage it in his hands, then the other, arousing her even more. His dick pulsed inside her as she tightened around him with increasing frequency. She willingly let him take her as he wanted, because she wanted to feel all of him, savor the sight of him breaking down and plunging headfirst into that secret place of pleasure that belonged to them and them alone.
The tricky part was Josh wanted to take her there first. He switched up again by pinning her knees into the pillow on either side of her head, opening her wide. He fucked her like a man possessed, the force of his movements knocking the bed hard and repeatedly against the wall. His hard, pounding thrusts had her pushing her face into the pillow and screaming into it. They hoped the room was soundproof. Either way, he didn't stop, not until the coil inside her body unraveled, and Malia screamed again as she came, hard and hot, her orgasm flushing through her like a tidal wave. It was the sweetest, the realest, the product of the joining of not just their bodies, but something deeper, too.
Josh must have been thinking the same thing, because when he stopped to stare her down again with those beautiful eyes of his, they glittered with warmth and affection. They gazed at each other, the stunned joy of their shared feelings morphing into something richer, something fiercer. He really did love her, she could see it right there on his face. She didn't quite know how she managed to miss it before.
The air between them thickened as they remembered they were still naked and entwined. Reverting back to their primal, passionate state, Josh moved again, thrusting all up in her dripping tightness. Malia gripped his hips to pull him deeper, her fingers digging into the flesh of his ass as he pounded into her with newfound ruthlessness. The mattress squeaked underneath them, mixing with their moans and whimpers and the wet slapping sounds of their bodies. He was close; his strokes became increasingly erratic, his grunts heavier and more vocal, his cock pulsing inside her pussy and his balls tightening.
"Fuuuck, I'm comin' baby, come catch this nut," he pulled out of her and quickly straddled her torso, stroking his dick in her face. Malia opened her mouth wide and poked out her tongue, watching his gorgeous face twist in painful pleasure as he unloaded in her mouth, thick spurts of his salty sweet cum flooding her tongue. Completely turned on, she rubbed herself with one hand and grabbed his dick with the other, stroking him harder to milk him to the last drop. His deep, throaty groan broke her all over again, plummeting her into another incredible orgasm, brought on by the sheer power of his.
Josh's chest heaved as he watched her slap his dick on her open tongue, coated white with his release. He then ordered in a husky voice, "Swallow it."
Malia obeyed heartily, slipping his cum down her throat then gently sucked him off for a couple of seconds, moaning softly from the unique taste of him mixed with her. Josh fought off the urge to nudge his dick deeper into her mouth and pulled away to lie down next to her. The realization of what had just happened must have hit both of them at the same time, because with one glance at each other, they burst out laughing.
"Damn," was all she had the energy to utter, allowing him to pull her against him as their joint laughter rumbled between them. He fucked the shit out of her. She felt like a brand new woman, even now, as he ran his hands all over her body, gifting her with a breathless kiss to her succulent lips. "I guess Lina's plan worked," she giggled, snuggling against him.
"Yeah," Josh agreed, his features suddenly serious as he carefully tucked a loose piece of her hair back underneath her scarf. "I ain't like how you be pushin' me away, Malia," he grumbled, "Don't be scared of us and what we got."
Not for the first time, she wished she'd been brave enough to express her true feelings. "It's not you I'm scared of... I'm scared of us falling apart if we become serious, and I don't wanna live without you," she confessed.
Josh chuckled and pressed his mouth to each of her palms. "You already can't," he smirked.
She rolled her eyes good-naturedly and smacked his arm. "You don't gotta agree."
"It's the truth though. But like I said, I love you and I'm not going anywhere. I mean that," he promised.
Hearing those three words from him again made her feel all giddy inside. "I love you, too," she whispered, smiling softly against his lips when he dropped a tender kiss to hers.
"How long's it been since we last fucked?" he inquired.
Two months and three weeks, but who was counting? "Couple of months," she answered, keeping it cool.
"Shame on us. I think we can make up for it, right?"
Malia raised an eyebrow when he started to crawl down her body, sprinkling butterfly kisses down her belly until his head was between her legs. Her body flushed with need. "You know we need to go to bed, right?" she questioned, her fingers sneaking into his hair despite her half-hearted protest.
"I know. But this pretty pussy is callin' my name." He winked at her and bit gently on her inner thigh, dangerously close to her throbbing treasure, soothing the skin with a wet lick. Her keening moan was all he needed to hear. "Now lay your sexy ass back and let Daddy eat."
And with that, he bent his head and spread his mouth over her, wiping every rational thought she owned with mind blowing pleasure.
THE END
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So...did you like it?
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Thank you all so much for reading!
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battlekidx2 · 2 months
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I'm making this post purely to shout out some incredibly talented fanfic writers from the Hazbin Hotel fandom and my favorite works of theirs.
Did anyone ask me for this? No. Will I post it anyway? Absolutely. The writers in this fandom are too good.
The first fanfic writer I want to shout out is @prince-liest (ao3 link)
I absolutely love their get cared for idiot (Alastor) series (not the official name but they called it that in one of their asks jokingly so it's now the default in my head).
Knock, Knock! It's Your Worst Fucking Nightmare! (this fic gets it!!!! This is what I meant when I said Alastor is growing a heart and part of him is raging against it. He still has ulterior motives and a massive amount of pride and part of him feels like that growing fondness is getting in the way, but he can't stop it. I need to stop before this becomes a long ramble. I've written a couple thousand words on this idea, but this fic is just a better use of your time than any meta I could ever write and way more entertaining :D )
Happily Ever After, and Other Shit Nepotism Can't Buy
The Last Bus Stop in Hell, Now Boarding (Please look at the tags for content warning. Angel and Alastor body swap story.)
They're amazing at balancing on that razor's edge with Alastor where there's a heart in there (really deep) and he's unintentionally growing attached to the hazbin crew, but he doesn't lose his edge. He's still manipulative and an asshole and can easily be the scariest guy in any room. He's in hell for a reason. A+ characterization at all times.
They're so good at writing the complicated dynamics he has with the residents, especially Charlie, and I enjoy how they expand on Alastor's potential dynamic with Angel Dust.
Anything they write from Lucifer's POV is gold too! My favorites are:
Take Two and Leave a Voicemail!
The Care and Keeping of Homo Angelus
I am also 100% here for their Aro!Alastor agenda and I'm enjoying their fic I Love Her, I Love Her Not so far!
The second person I want to shout out is @grayintogreen (ao3 link)
Their series Red Roses and Dead Things consistently gut punches me.
Just like Princeliest, they are also fantastic at balancing on that razor's edge with Alastor. A+ characterization for everyone and I love how they write HuskerDust. It's so soft, especially in the aftermath fic for Learn that Even Death May Die called If My Love Is Tomorrow, I've Forgotten Yesterday (that fic hurt in the best way).
The way they explore the aftermath of Learn that Even Death May Die is incredibly impactful. They capture the unique grief that comes from the reality that there are some things you won't get closure for so well that it's painful.
I can't say enough good things about their series. Genuinely go read it.
I found @lediz-watches (ao3 link) before the first season of Hazbin Hotel dropped (I've been a fan of the hellaverse for a few years now and have been enthralled with the Hazbin Hotel pilot since I first watched it in 2020) and I really enjoy their fics.
My favorite is Suffering Kindness. I love the Charlie and Alastor dynamic they explore in this story. I think I'm just a sucker for the Charlie and Alastor dynamic in general, but this fic hits all the right notes for me. (written pre-season 1 but man is it good. 100% recommend)
LeDiz also has a lot of one-shots/collections of one-shots that are very fun.
The Cure for Inexorable Boredom
Dollface (one-shots about Alastor theories. My favorite is the 3rd one. So fascinating!)
Choice Words (one of the few explorations of Alastor and Vaggie's dynamic that I've found in the fandom)
Don't Say It
I have to shout out @ckret2 (ao3 link) and their phenomenal fic You’ve Got a Face for Radio. This is such an amazing aroace!Alastor fic. (Embarrassingly it was this fic that made me realize I was most likely aroace myself. I’d had fleeting moments of suspecting it but it wasn’t until I saw my experiences laid out in a character explicitly written to be aroace that I put the puzzle pieces together. -_- some of these passages were too relatable.) I cannot express how much I love this fic.
I also like their fics Dumpster Baby and Bitter Grapes.
I have one last writer I want to mention because this is getting really long (whoops). The last one is tiredoflofteranditsshit and their Assume He Has a Heart series (because my favorite character and how I interpret them was not obvious enough already with the fics/authors I've recommended. I had to make it more obvious).
These fics are massive (17k and 26k words) and so much fun. Definitely worth the read. Yet another series that follows up season 1 and explores Alastor’s growing connections and how he lies to himself and pushes against it. Love this series and there’s a lot to sink your teeth into :D
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pamgkrthwrites · 7 months
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2500 please?
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Fandom: BNHA
Pairing: Dad!Bakugou x F!Reader
Themes: Bakugou is not the perfect dad but is trying his best, based off of a TikTok Sound
Summary: You get a call from your nearly 16-year-old daughter at 2 a.m. asking for $2500.
Word Count: 1K
Tag List: @optimisticprime3 @dreamcastgirl99 (Sorry if I've forgotten or gotten someone's tag wrong)
A/N: I should've been working on an assignment instead of this....
“Hey mama, do you have $2500 you can send me?” You heard your 15-year-old daughter’s voice through the phone.
You leaned up in your and Katsuki’s bed, looking at the time. “Katsumi, it’s 2 am. What do you possibly need $2500 for?” Your head hot the pillow before you suddenly sat u straight. “Katsumi, where are you?”
“Um-” You heard your daughter’s voice go weak though you could still hear her smile over the phone. “An escape room?”
“The truth, Katsumi.” You warned, sitting up in your bed.
“... Prison?”
You sat up straight, your eyes open wide. “PRISON?!”
Your husband Katsuki sturred awake, mumbling some curses.
“You can’t tell daddy!” Katsumi’s voice strained. “My friends and I were just goofing around-”
“Can’t tell me what?” You heard Katsuki's grumbly voice say before you turned your head, seeing your very tired 42-year-old husband. He grabbed your phone as he sat up, pulling it to his ear. “What did you do and where are you?”
You heard your daughter's voice become quieter and you could imagine her doing the thing she’s done since she was 3 and got in trouble with your husband. Lower lip pouting, looking down with hands behind her back and kicking rockings with her feet.
“... My friends and I snuck out and we went to a party and the cops were called and apparently there were drugs-”
“Drugs?!” Katsuki’s voice boomed. “You’re doing drugs?!”
“Nononono!” Katsumi panickingly rushed out. “There happened to be drugs there! That’s why we got arrested-”
“ARRESTED?!” Katsuki was going to pop a blood vessel with how angry he was.
You heard your youngest daughter Fuku crying now from her room. You gave your husband a look, but all you saw was anger behind his eyes. He took a deep as he clutched onto your phone tightly. 
“Where are you being held?” He asked through gritted teeth as he signalled to you to check on your 7-year-old daughter.
You groaned as you got out of bed to go check on your youngest.
Katsuki waited until you left the room before glaring at the phone as if Katsumi could see his glare. “You’ll be grounded for 2 months, your birthday party is cancelled and you’ll write your mother an apology letter.”
“What?! But that's so unfair!-”
“Do you want me to come pick you up or do you just want to walk straight home?” You snapped at his daughter.
“... Fine…”
The drive from the police station was long and awkward. Katsumi wondered if her father was driving the long way home just so the guilt would eat her alive. She looked up at Katsuki with her eyes, the same eyes that you had.
He was silently fuming.
She looked out of the sports car passenger window, looking at her reflection in the side mirror. Her eyeliner was smudged and her father’s wheat-blonde hair looked messy with your hair texture on her head.
“Where’s mama?” She asked.
“At home. Someone had to watch your sisters.” He answered coldly. 
When he noticed he was getting close to the street they lived on, he parked on the side of the road close to the park he used to take Katsumi to.
She stared at the park, remembering when she first got her quirk at the said park when she was 4. How you held her so closely with a smile and spun her around while Katsuki just watched, realising Katsumi had his same quirk.
“Why did you go?” He asked her, trying to keep a level head.
“I just wanted to do something fun with my friends.”
“You’re 16 in 4 days!” He pointed out to her. “You shouldn’t have snuck out! What if something worse happened than just drugs happening?”
“Why would you care-”
“Because you are my daughter, Katsumi!” Katsuki tried to hold back a tempered response. You told him to be gentle. He was never really good at it. He tapped his finger on the steering wheel. “Is this about that boy at school?”
The lack of a response from Katsumi confirmed it Katsuki. He took a breath in trying to not get angry.
“I know you don’t like him-”
“Understatement of the year, Sumi.” Katsuki butted in.
“-but I really like him!” Katsumi had small tears in her eyes and her fists clenched.
Katsuki was silent, tapping his finger on the wheel. 
“... Don’t change yourself for some boy, Katsumi.” Katsuki said to her. “If you’re going to date, don’t make it a life lesson for yourself.”
Katsumi turned her head away from her father, crossing her arms. “Whatever.”
Katsumi barged through the front door, avoiding making eye contact with you as she made her way to her bedroom, passing her sisters’ rooms along the way. She slammed the door shut and locked the door, leaving you and Katsuki alone with high tension lingering in the house.
“What did you say to her?” You asked him with a raised brow.
“I told her not to change for that stupid boyfriend.” You angrily answered as he made his way back to your two’s bedroom.
Once you closed the door did he take off his shoes and shirt before getting back into bed. You sat beside him and gently rubbed his old man's back.
“Was he at that party?” You asked Katsuki gently.
“I don’t fucking know-! Probably!” He groaned, burrowing his face into a pillow.
“... Maybe we need to have the talk with her-” You stopped yourself when you saw the nasty look Katsuki was giving you. “Don’t act like that, Katsu. I started having sex when I was around her age.”
“With who?” He glared, his possessiveness over you still strong as ever, even after 18 years of marriage.
You just rubbed his back. “Not important. You have to accept that she’s going to start dating, there isn’t much you can do about that.”
Katsuki sighed, getting comfortable in bed. “Let’s just go to sleep. It’s 3am.”
You leaned down and kissed Katsuki’s forehead. “I love you.”
“I love you more.”
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matchavellichor · 10 months
Note
okay huge fan of your dark!seb but hear me out…… dark!ominis
A.N: I absolutely adore dark!ominis omfg—I have like five diff dark omi drabbles in my google docs that i've abandoned bc i feel like no matter how i write it, it seems too out of character for him, then i end up hating it LOL. This isn't as bad as my dark!seb but here's Ominis doing some.....uhhhh questionable things to MC under Imperius.
Just This Once
dark!Ominis x f!MC - NSFW/Angst - 3.1k words - ao3
Tags: !!Non-Con!!, Pining, Obsession, Inappropriate Use of Imperius, Unconsensual Kissing/Touching, Masturbation, Omi Being a Lil Pervball
Summary: Ominis' infatuation leads him to break some of the principles he's held dear to him for the better part of his life.
Part 2, Part 3 (づ ̄ ³ ̄)づ
The fireplace in the Slytherin common room has long gone out for the night, only a few crackling embers to fill the silence. Moonlight seeps in from the windows, through the murky waters of the Black Lake, casting the room in a palid, green hue. 
Despite the hour, he knows he’ll find her there. 
He wonders if it’s one of the rare nights where she’s asleep by the time he arrives, curled into herself on one of the armchairs with her book forgotten on her lap. 
One of the rare evenings where he can afford himself a bit less self-control. Indulge in the silkiness of her skin, trace his fingers over her features until the point she inevitably stirs, and he’s forced to retract himself as if he’d never touched her. 
It doesn’t matter if it is. Tonight, he’ll touch her the way he wants to, either way.
His skin prickles with warring emotions as he makes his way soundlessly down the steps of the dormitories. Shame, guilt, disgust—overwhelming anticipation.
The dizzying feeling of want overshadows them all.
An ugly, marred tug of obsession claws its way under his skin like a parasite. He can’t escape it, can’t make it stop—hasn't been able to for a while now.
He’s grown accustomed to it. Grown used to the way his nerves burn when he touches her, the way his lungs scream for oxygen when he catches her scent.
He always wants, yet he never gets, and he’s so, so tired of wanting.
Just this once. 
The reminder eases through him like a breeze, quelling the incessant pounding of his heart in his ears, the thin sheen of sweat settling itself over his skin.
His hand trembles when it dips into the pocket of his robes as he approaches the familiar set of lounges in front of the fireplace. He feels for his wand and tightens his hand around it, the wood biting into his skin, a sensation almost comforting in nature.
Just this once.
“Was wondering when you’d show,” her voice is warm and sleep-rough, a hazy melody that proves just as useful in easing his nerves. “Long day?”
“Something like that,” he murmurs. His tongue feels heavy in his mouth, weighted with attrition for something he has yet to do.
She waits for him to sit down beside her, but instead he stays in place, hovering over the side of the couch.
He clears his throat, nerves stiffening his voice. “Do you think we could read in the Undercroft tonight?”
She looks at him perplexed, until her lips curl into a smile.
“Since when did you become such a rule breaker? Sebastian finally rubbing off on you?” She humors, stretching her sore limbs.
“I’d just prefer it. Change of…scenery.”
She snorts. “Change of scenery, huh?”
He nods sheepishly, cheeks burning. Change of scenery? Really, Ominis?
He can feel her staring at him, contemplating. He’s half-convinced she can hear the way his heart is nearly beating out of his chest.
“Please,” he adds for good measure.
His fingers find his wand again, tucked surreptitiously behind layers of fabric. He supposes he could cast it here, even if that isn’t part of the plan. The thought makes anxiety trickle up his skin. He doesn’t want to stray from the plan.
When she rises from her seat with an acquiescent sigh, his entire body sinks with relief.
“Alright, fine, let’s go…but we’ll have to be quiet.” 
The walk to the Undercroft is spent in the silence of disillusionment spells and muffling charms. Inside the darkened cellar, with only the soft sound of her humming as she settles onto one of the old chaises, a flurry of second-thoughts numb his brain in white static. 
Disgust settles itself like a boulder in his gut, the bitter taste of bile rising in his throat as he takes a seat beside her, as he considers over and over again what he’s about to do. 
He can feel her thigh press against his when she shifts in her seat. It’s strangely grounding. He feels the taste rescind.
She’s so incredibly warm, so terribly close, that it buries any trepidations he holds deep into an untouchable part of himself, until he can think of nothing but the prospect of more of her skin on his, until desire overshadows any inkling of guilt he might possess.
The urge to touch, and taste, and caress, subjugates the contrite voice in his head that repeats a litany of you promised, you promised, you promised.
His nausea blends into something else as he quietly slips his wand from his pocket, and any vows he’s made to himself about never doing what he’s about to do, dissolves into inexistence as the spell passes through his lips in a whisper.
“Imperio.” 
The incantation takes effect with such fluidity, with such little effort, that in that moment, despite all his years of fervent resistance, he has never felt more like a Gaunt.
He resists the urge to double over and be sick on the flagstone floor. 
He can barely hear the sound of the book in her hands falling to the floor, nor his own wand slipping from his fingers with a dull clatter. The ringing in his ears is far too loud to allow it.
His core buzzes with the thrum of dark magic that washes over him, a mordant reminder of what exactly he’s done, one that he can feel impress itself on his very soul. He takes a fortifying breath.
Just this once.
“Turn to me.” 
The command works over her immediately, and though he can’t see her, he can hear her shift in her seat to face him. He’s never been more grateful for his blindness than in that moment, that he can’t see the glazed-over appearance of her eyes, her vacant stare. He’s certain it would break him.
He shifts forward himself, and when he touches her for the first time with trembling hands, the incessant ringing in his ears ceases. The drove of self-reprehension comes to a halt, replaced by something starved, replaced by the instinct to take.
He drags his fingers unsteadily over the ridge of her cheekbone, traces the contours of her brows, down the bridge of her nose, the same way he’s done before only briefly in her sleep, though this time with more unabashed exploration.
The thrill of not having to be careful awakens something in him. He wants to commit every millimeter to memory.
His thumb brushes over the gentle arch of her cupid’s bow, then over the plush pillow that is her bottom lip. 
He doesn’t even realize he’s been holding his breath until his lungs burn for oxygen. His hand takes hold of her jaw and he dips forward, so that his first inhale is made up of nothing but her, his nose pressed to the soft hair at her temple. 
He tilts his head and lets his lips land on the smooth plane of her cheek. Her skin is warm and silky, just as he remembered from the brief bits of contact he’s allowed himself in the past. He lets out a contented sigh. 
Slowly, patiently, he works himself up to his destination, planting tender kisses along her face, reveling in every little sensation, until he reaches the corner of her mouth.
Her mouth.
He’s almost convinced he’s dreaming. 
He takes a shuddering breath and connects their lips the way he’s wanted to for an agonizingly long time.
If he’s ever known softness before, it’s incomparable to what he receives from her lips, from her face cupped in his hands.
He’s filled with the insatiable desire to know more, to drown in it, to suffocate on the feeling of her against him. 
His tongue brushes over her bottom lip, tentative and a bit too cautious. He’s not exactly sure how to kiss her, but he notes rather morbidly that she won’t mind either way. It’s not like she’ll remember.
He tries again, experimenting, prodding at her lips softly at first, but she doesn’t part for him the way he expects her to, doesn’t grant him entrance. It’s… not right.
His brain blares with alarms in deafening repetition that it’s wrong, it’s wrong, it’s wrong.
She’s stiff against his lips, frigid and unmoving. It’s not how it should be. It’s not how he wants it to be. It’s askew and breaks him out of his fantasy and it makes him angry. 
Makes his fingers dig too harshly into her skin, makes him crowd her against the armrest of the lounge and press his mouth to her more forcefully, as if he can brutalize the compliance out of her. 
A whimper escapes her, a brief breach in her trance-like state, and he’s snapped out of his overwhelming frustration. He breaks the kiss and pants against her skin, the reminder of the power he has over her surging back. 
“Kiss me.”
Relief oozes into him like the trickle of a downpouring stream, cooling his blood and letting him melt into the feeling of her lips finally moving against his. His touch retreats back to tenderness. 
There’s a clumsy sort of uncertainty in the way his mouth moves against hers, an unpracticed mess of tongue and teeth. He doesn’t mind, doesn’t let himself dwell on the chagrin that is his first kiss.
It’s all he’s ever wanted with her. She tastes sweet on his tongue, the culmination of all his desires being fulfilled, and yet still, somehow, it’s not enough.
Even as he kisses her deeply, tenderly, until his lips feel raw and kiss-bruised, and there’s a delicious soreness in his jaw — he can’t shake that little, driving pain in his chest of want. 
No, not of want. Of need. 
There’s a part of him that he doesn’t quite understand, a part of him that aches for more without being conscious of just what more is. 
He’s aware of it, though. He feels it in the tension pulling just below his navel, the heat pooling in his blood. He recognizes it in the depraved instinct to slip his hands up her blouse, to hike up her skirt, and— and—
He contemplates straying from the plan for the second time that night.
All he wanted was to kiss her, just this once, just this once— but as he tips her back onto the cushions, as he hovers over her with his lips never leaving hers, he realizes that isn’t true.
He lets himself sink against her. Her body molds with his, presses against his own, plush and warm and indescribably perfect. He pins her down with his weight—even if he’s aware he doesn’t have to, he finds some sick sense of security in knowing she can’t escape.
He wants more.
He slots himself between her legs and tugs one of her thighs around his waist. It’s almost too much, his breathing scattered and uneven. 
He wants more.
Even if he isn’t sure what more entails, he possesses some idea as his hips begin to rut against hers of their own accord. The whimper he lets out makes him burn with shame.
He buries his face in the crook of her neck to hide his mortification. He inhales, until the dizzying scent of her perfume numbs his brain.
He’s subtly aware of the fact he’s grinding right against her knickers, her skirt bunched up haphazardly at her hips to accommodate him between her legs. He tries not to think about it.
His thoughts feel hazy as he contemplates the fact that only a thin piece of cotton separates her cunt from rubbing right against the front of his trousers. It would be so easy to—
He can’t.
He forces himself to keep his hands above her waist, far from temptation. He doesn’t force them not to wander, though.
Just this once, he repeats, as his fingers hover over the front placket of her blouse. He muffles his breathing with his lips pressed to her throat.
He trails his hand up to her collar and unclasps the first button with trembling fingers. He tries not to think about it, either.
He concentrates on how she tastes when he dips his tongue out to lick a stripe just under her jaw, and for a moment he doesn’t care how lewd it is, doesn’t care how utterly debased he’s acting.
Her breath hitches, just the subtlest change in pitch, but it’s enough for him to pretend that she wants this. That she wants him.
Little, brass buttons clatter to the stone floor of the Undercroft in quiet clinks, byproduct of his impatience, of his self-restraint slipping from his fingers in the hasty manner he undresses her. 
The same hasty manner he fumbles with his belt—before he can think too long about what he’s about to do—until he’s gripping his weeping cock and biting down on his lip to stop the shameful noises threatening to escape his throat.
He palms himself shakily, remorse adling his unsteady movements, while he tries to work the courage to actually touch her. It isn’t long before his hand is slick with his arousal, and the skin of her neck is damp with his heavy breathing.
His hand hovers over the bare skin of her midriff, fingers twitching with the desire to sink them into her soft flesh, to trace over her curves and memorize the contours he’s only felt in daydreams. 
His voice is raw when he commands her, riddled with shame. “Ask—ask me to touch you.”
She obeys in a whisper. “Please, touch me.” 
It’s wrong, it’s all wrong, it’s not—
“Ask me to touch you and say my name.” 
“Touch me,” she breathes, and he can feel the vibration of her voice where his mouth is still latched onto the base of her throat. “Please, Ominis.”
There.
His name on her lips strikes his nerves on fire, lights the very blood in his veins alight. He caves.
Her skin is warm under his fingertips. He can feel her heartbeat where he presses his palm to her sternum, a frantic pounding— undoubtedly a reflection of her subconscious beneath the influence of the spell.
He doesn’t allow himself to feel guilty, he can’t. Not now. 
Instead, he indulges. Pushes the sheer material of her chemise the rest of the way up, until it’s over her chest, and he can feel.
Her nipples pebble as they come in contact with the cool air of the Undercroft and he runs his hand over the stiffened bud, rolls it between his thumb and index. 
She’s overwhelmingly soft. It disgusts him how badly he wants to defile her for it. 
He notes wryly how revoltingly weak he is, if all it took was some poorly-placed obsession for him to do away with every last principle he’s spent the better part of his life cultivating. How easily an Unforgivable spilled from his lips at the prospect of feeling hers.
He’ll scrub his skin raw afterwards in the shower in a desperate attempt to forget all of this, he promises himself. He won’t do this again, he can’t—
Just this once.
His head sinks to her chest and he murmurs against her skin, “Again— Say, say it again.”
“Please, Ominis.”
He sighs in blissful relief. “Yes.”
He counts the rows of her sternum with a drag of his tongue. Her chest is already sticky with his saliva when he takes hold of his cock again, the dripping tip sullying her untouched skin.
His hips rut into his own hand and the Undercroft fills with the sounds of his quiet grunts. He squeezes his eyes shut and imagines it’s her he’s thrusting into as he fucks his fist, his other hand groping blindly, fondling and squeezing her supple flesh until he’s sure he’s left marks in his carelessness.
“You feel so good,” he murmurs, because he likes to pretend it’s real. “So–so good, angel.”
She lets out the softest whimper, and it’s enough to make his jaw fall slack, a pleasured groan escaping his parted lips. 
He presses his forehead to hers. “I love you. I love you so much. Tell me— tell me you love me. Please say it.”
“I love you.” 
She obeys too fast, her voice too vacant. It’s unnatural. He doesn’t care. Those three little words are enough to wrench a strangled sort of sound out of his chest.
“Again,” he begs, voice hoarse, and he’s only distantly aware of the wet tracks running down his cheeks. His thrusts are sloppy and frantic, so close to his undoing. “Say my name.” 
“I love you, Ominis.”
“Fuck,” his voice cracks, his head dropping to her shoulder.
He’s pushed over the edge with a sob, painting her stomach and chest in ribbons of milky white. An endless litany of I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry pours from his lips as he shudders through his climax.
Shame sears through him like fiendfyre and he moans his forgiveness on a cry against her lips, kisses her tenderly as if it’s an act of retribution.
His hand finds her stomach, his palm rubbing into the incriminating mess of his seed on her skin, and the satisfaction he feels with it only serves to amplify his self-disgust. 
He kneads the sticky flesh beneath his fingertips, as if he can make it so that even after the scourgify, some part of him will be there, a memory only he’s aware of. He doesn’t want to let her go, he can’t— he—
He does so anyway. He forces himself off of her on unsteady legs and tucks himself into his trousers. 
He cleans her with all the care in the world, as if his tenderness will somehow make up for how crudely he’s violated her trust tonight.
Everytime his hand brushes over her skin as he redresses her, he repeats to himself that it was just this once. Brands it into his brain, lets that contrite voice repeat it over and over again until he might go mad. 
He takes her back to the common room and sets her down gently into that same armchair she was waiting for him in at the beginning of the night. Brushes a lingering kiss to her forehead that stretches for a moment too long.
He mutters a reluctant finite incantatem under his breath, pairs it with a heavy sleeping spell, and retreats to his own dorm before he can fall to temptation again. 
Only then, behind the drawn curtains of his four-poster, skin still prickling with the memory of every way he’d touched her, is he made certain of something he’s been trying desperately to deny all evening.
This was the first time, but it certainly won’t be the last.
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worldsunlikemyown · 3 months
Text
THE 'ENLIGHTENED SCRIPT'
Warning: This will end up becoming a VERY LONG post. Also it turned out to be vaguely academically phrased — so warning for language too formal for how not-normal I am about this
Disclaimer:
This isn't for the 'actual' Enlightened Language — only to write stuff out in English with a different set of symbols in art (or, let's be honest, just for fun).
I have no proper knowledge of how to make scripts (such as if there are any common conventions to follow). If anything here offends you in terms of its accuracy or correctness, please don't come at me with pitchforks :)
I've done my best to make this explanation simple and thorough, but obviously there may be things that I have forgotten to mention (or things that I've perhaps not even considered). If you want clarification on anything or just have questions about the script, asks are welcome! (any discussion of the script will be tagged '#the enlightened script')
If you wish to use this script, feel free to do so! (I only request that you credit me (@/worldsunlikemyown) if you do). I would prefer it that you do not repost this to other social media sites, but if you do, please credit me clearly.
Introduction
The term 'Enlightened Script' (ES from now on) is technically a misnomer, because we know nothing about the Enlightened Language (EL from now on) and thus cannot make a script 'for' it. This script is, however, built upon the little we know about the aesthetic appearance of the actual script of EL, and contains the same twenty-six letters as the Latin Alphabet. It is made primarily for use in writing Modern English (it contains no diacritics, and will thus have little utility for writing in many other languages that use the Latin Alphabet). ES can be used to simulate the actual writing of EL, and represent this simulation in art and inscriptions where desired.
The Enlightened Script
This script has been designed with a view to the aesthetic of the actual script for EL, modelled somewhat from the unreliable example of Vespera's signature. It features heavy use of curls for this reason in the alphabet, with numerals and punctuation marked out by their relative lack of curls and embellishments. Note that symbols may vary from example to example in some small ways, as they are hand-written. If you wish to write ES in any of its forms, follow the general form of symbols from the three examples below).
**Click for a better resolution**
LETTERS
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PUNCTUATION
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(yes, I'll explain the square-bracketed symbols later)
NUMERALS
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Modern ES
'Modern' ES refers to the version of ES that would be used in the modern day by elves and the other Intelligent Species in their daily writing — what we might call the 'normal' version. It is written with the same writing conventions as English, keeping the same spelling and orientation (left to right, then top to bottom). For example:
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Here in the top-right of the image, the word 'suldreen' (chosen because it is the only real EL word we know) has been transcribed into Modern ES. It can be seen that the letters have been written out without joining or cursive elements in the manner of an English word. In the bottom half of the page is a quote: 'No reason to worry' (yes I used an Alden quote — it'll be easier to remember and was the first typical Keeper thing I thought of). This has also been written out in keeping with the conventions of writing in English.
NOTE ON PUNCTUATION: You will notice that in the PUNCTUATION section, some forms have been given in red square brackets. These are to be used for Modern ES (such as the colon represented in the image above, as well as the dash in the example). The version of the form outside of the red square brackets is to be used for Traditional ES. Symbols with no variant form remain the same in both versions of ES.
Traditional ES
Traditional ES is the oldest version of ES currently in use. It is the 'old' writing of the elves, which is used in the modern day mostly for adding a sense of grandeur to the atmosphere through its use on signboards, meaning that only its display version, which will be in the next section, is still well-known. I shall explain the proper form of Traditional ES first, however, because it is commonly used by the Ancients and as a basis for many of the codes and ciphers of the Elven world.
You may have noticed in the LETTERS section that the vowels (a, e, i, o, u) of ES are represented by symbols that open to the left, while the consonants are represented by symbols that open to the right. This is a 'remnant' (hush I don't know how to model change in writing systems and besides this is a simulation) of the system of Traditional ES, shown below.
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Here is the word 'suldreen' again, transcribed in Traditional ES. The change in orientation is at once apparent, for Traditional ES, unlike Modern ES, is written from top to bottom, then from right to left. As seen in this example, letters branch out from a trunk that forms the word, with each letter's connection to the trunk referred to as a branch. Consonants are written on the right of the trunk, and vowels are written on the left, resulting in all symbols opening outwards. The topmost branch on a trunk is to be read first.
An example of longer text in Traditional ES:
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Note that the punctuation orientation for the quotation marks has changed, and now uses the symbols given outside the red brackets. The question-mark remains unchanged, and is written in the same way in both Modern ES and Traditional ES (along with the comma, full-stop/period and exclamation-mark symbols). The sentence starts on the right, and the second line is the next one to the left, which is to be read from the top again.
Signboards in ES
The use of Traditional ES in the modern day remains mostly limited to signboards. To write on a signboard, a line of Traditional ES is, so to speak, rotated 90 degrees anti-clockwise, with the vowels now written on the bottom of a horizontal trunk, and the consonants written on top. It is read from left to right, then top to bottom if applicable (perhaps this may have influenced the left to right orientation of Modern ES). An example below:
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The word written in the examples above is 'Everglen', first given in standard Traditional ES, then in the signboard version. In terms of the appearance of this 'signboard version' to elves, it would be read by Ancients as a vertical sign in English is read by us (see the right of the image). To most modern elves, it would simply register as an archaic version of their script, with no particular orientation difference observed.
Numerals and Mathematical Operations in ES
In-universe, the base-ten place-value system was (in my HEADCANON, and I cannot stress this enough) brought to the humans by elves. The writing of their numerals, as may be noted, has some similarities with Roman numerals (which in-universe, the Romans would have learned — again, only as a plausible headcanon — from elves). I have created the numerals to be written somewhat like Roman numerals (with the combination of symbols — I'm not sure of the right term for it). Operations are conducted in the same was as in the base-ten place-value system we use. For example:
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In the example on the left (which reads 'Book 9.5'), it can be seen that numerals in Modern ES are written with the same orientation as the letters, with an un-filled dot representing the decimal point. The same applies to Traditional ES, but there is no trunk for numerals (just as there is no trunk for punctuation).
Operations have always been done with a horizontal orientation. Addition, subtraction and multiplication operations are done as shown in the middle-right of the image. The only thing drastically different from our own method of carrying out these operations is that the operation symbol is always to be put in a circle. The same applies to division, which is shown on the far-right. Fractions are written as shown bottom-right. (I don't know about special numbers and stuff okay let's pretend elves can't do math or just use the human symbols and say we got them from elves)
Handwritten examples (for a better understanding of sizing and possibly nicer-looking symbols) have been given under the cut, along with explanations and some interesting notes.
MODERN
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TRADITIONAL
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Note that the trunks for Traditional ES have been marked on each line. For numerals and punctuation, the portion of a line on which they are written will not be 'dashed through'.
Notes:
It is possible to 'reverse' Traditional ES to read from left to right by using mirror-forms of the letters, resulting in the vowels written on and opening to the right, and the consonants written on and opening to the left. Punctuation may or may not be used.
Modern ES could be 'reversed' in any of the many ways things written in the Latin Alphabet can be 'reversed' (one of these was likely used by Jolie for her mirror-written diary. Do with that as you will).
Taglist (tagging anyone who has interacted with the original post): @mee-op, @im56bithc, @lgbtqforeverything, @bookwyrminspiration, @camelspit, @strs-rndrps, @thefoxysnake, @kingkrakie, @keeperofthelostswiftie, @fintan-pyren, @brontekotlcyan, @vesperas-mirrors, and also @acanieve and @theefrenchcroissant, whom I can't seem to be able to tag properly)
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itsmealaiah · 3 months
Note
Please can you do fem!reader with Tom and they raw-dog? I absolutely love your work and its perfectly fine if you dont feel comfortable doing this😊
absolutely i can, thank you
Tough love
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tags/ warnings: rawdogging/ unprotected sex (reader and tom are of age in this au), p in v, just smut 🥰 and a cliffhanger ❤️
minors do not interact
I am not responsible for your media consumption however.
Do not steal, copy, translate, or claim as your own.
It had been three months since Tom had been home. Three long months of touring, of performing, of sleeping in strange beds and eating at even stranger restaurants. Three months of missing his partner, his better half. He missed the way you looked at him, like you could see straight through him, like you understood everything he was feeling even when he couldn't find the words. He missed you.
And now, finally, he was home. The plane had touched down at the airport a few hours ago, and despite the jetlag and the exhaustion, he couldn't wait to get to your place. He'd texted you the moment he'd landed, and you'd told him not to take too long, that you couldn't wait to see him either.
So here he was, standing outside your door, his heart pounding in his chest, his palms sweaty. He took a deep breath, raised his hand to knock, and then paused. No, he thought. He didn't want to wait any longer. He reached out, quickly unlocked the door, and pushed it open. The moment it swung wide, he was tackled to the ground, your body on top of him, your lips finding his in a hungry, desperate kiss.
"God, I've missed you," you groaned against his lips, and he felt a shiver run down his spine. "I've missed you so fucking much."
You pulled back just enough to look him in the eye, your pupils blown wide, your expression dazed and lustful. "You're home now, baby," you breathed, and then you were kissing him again, your tongue dancing with his, your body pressing against his. You tasted like home, like you, and it was the most incredible thing he'd ever felt.
He reached up, tangled his fingers in your hair, and tugged gently, arching his back as you moaned into the kiss. You shifted, grinding your hips against his, and a sharp gasp escaped his lips as he felt how wet you were. He wanted to touch you, to feel you, but he couldn't quite reach. "Fuck," he growled, "I need to feel you."
You pulled back, your eyes meeting his, and then you were straddling him, your hands on his chest, your hips grinding against his erection. "Yeah?" you breathed. "You want this?"
He nodded, his eyes locked on your lips, and then you leaned forward, capturing his mouth in a deep, passionate kiss as you lowered yourself onto his cock. He groaned, feeling you slide down his length, the tightness of you around him driving him wild. "Fuck, yes," he growled into the kiss, his hands finding your hips, holding you steady as he thrust upwards, burying himself deeper inside you.
You moaned, arching your back, your head falling back against his shoulder. "That's it," you breathed, "give me more." He did, his hips moving faster, harder, the friction between your bodies sending shockwaves of pleasure through him. He felt like he was losing control, felt like he was going to explode, and he didn't care. All that mattered was this moment, this connection with you.
You leaned forward, your breasts pressed against his chest, your lips finding his neck, sucking and nipping at the skin there. "Oh God," you gasped, "I've missed this." He couldn't help but smile against your skin, feeling the heat of your body, the wetness between your legs.
And then, as if from nowhere, a thought hit him, making him pause for a moment. He hadn't been careful, hadn't used protection. He'd been so caught up in finally being home, in being with you, that he'd forgotten. But it was too late to worry about that now. All he could do was hope.
You looked up at him, a question in your eyes, and he knew you were thinking the same thing. He reached down, his fingers finding the vibrator he'd brought with him, and turned it on, pressing it against your clit. Your eyes rolled back in your head, and you moaned, arching your back further. "That's it," he groaned, thrusting harder as he felt your body tense and spasm around him. "Let it out, baby."
He could feel his own release building, feel the tension coiling tight in his abdomen. He gripped your hips, holding you close as he pushed up into you one final time, his body shuddering with the force of his orgasm. You cried out his name, your body tensing around him, and he felt the walls of your body contract as you came as well.
You collapsed forward onto his chest, your breath coming in ragged gasps, your skin flushed and slick with sweat. He ran his fingers through your hair, kissing the top of your head as you nestled against him. For a few moments, the world was quiet, the only sound the ragged rhythm of your breath and the thudding of his heart in his ears.
Then, as if a dam had broken, the reality of the situation crashed down on you both. "Oh my God," you whispered, your voice barely audible over the pounding of your heart. "We didn't use anything."
He stiffened beneath you, and you could feel the tension in his body. "I know," he said, his voice tight. "I'm sorry."
You sat up, looking down at where your bodies were still connected. "What are we going to do?" you asked, your voice hitching slightly. He reached up, cupping your face in his hands, and kissed you gently.
"We'll figure it out together," he said, his voice steady.
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yejinnie · 7 months
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☆ father like son.
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- pairing. leeknow x reader
- tags. fluff
you came to your boyfriend's apartment to pet sit his three cats, which it was a miracle to you, as boredom was consuming you whole when you were home alone. however, as the whines that left your lover's and his three cats mouth, you realised how much in common your son's have with their father.
it was an quiet afternoon, were you find yourself longing for the day to end, due to the extraordinary boringness that was swallowing you whole.
tired sighs left your mouth, it seemed as if you been laying on your back for hours, seemlessly scrolling through your phone, however, it has only been 20 minutes.
the whole day has been wasted just like that, but it wasn't because you weren't motivated, it just was because there was nothing on your to-do list today, therefore, there was nothing to preoccupied the void that filled your brain with boredom.
you layed on your back on the cold wooden floor in your living room, the tunes in the background coming from your tv and the cold sensation from the wooden floor pressing amongst your back, was long forgotten. you were lost in the mind of your own.
however you were shortly interrupted by the ringing sound coming from your phone. your eyes weren't bothered to check who the caller was, as you felt it may of have been a scammer.
"hello?" you picked up, a confused tone leaving your mouth, as you listen to the sweet voice that had easily just lighten your terrible day by three words.
"wanna come over?"
a smile perked up your face and before you knew it, you started to sprint towards the front door. "i'll be right there!!"
who knew your day could easily be lighten up by a boy who owned three cats?
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three quicken knocks hit the door of where your lover lives, slowly opening to reveal the kitten obsessed boy. leeknow stood there, wearing his usual grey sweatpants and white t-shirt, interwining both of your hands together and pulling you into a warm hug.
you stood there for a few seconds, allowing yourself to feel his warmth against your collided bodies, lost in the moment together.
however, this peaceful moment was interrupted by a furry figure that rubbed against your legs, begging for attention, which his two other brothers started to join after seeing your figure hidden by your boyfriend's back.
"i think that a sign to go inside" minho chuckled, still holding your hand while pulling you inside his apartment.
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it's been a few hours since you been pet sitting with your boyfriend, however, night was falling and your desire to sleep was nearing.
"jagiya~ stay with me" lino whined, revealing his cute pout which easily persuaded you to stay. His sons crawled to where you sat on the couch, rubbing against your soft skin, purring and whining just like their father.
"fine, since you keep sulking" you teasingly responded, earning a clingy and more pouting leeknow, who kept saying he wasn't.
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layed in your lovers bed, his fit arms firmly holding you tight against his chest, protecting you from the world.
there stood his little three furry sons, soonie, doongie and dori, cuddling with you guys, as if they were jealous.
littles whiney purs were heard from the three cats, making you and leeknow move your attention to them, before placing them between the both of you.
sleep over took all of you, embracing the moment, holding your sleeping lover and your three babies closely near you, with one thing left in your mind before you were drifted into dreamland.
'you are just like your father, whiny, clingy and will always win my heart'.
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thank you for all the supports!! omg ive gotten so many notes it's fascinating and I'm literally dying from shock with how much attention I've been getting lately!!
now it would be an honour to write about what you guys want, so please, send me some requests of what you want me to write and ill try my best to construct it into your liking!! (⁠◍⁠•⁠ᴗ⁠•⁠◍⁠)⁠✧⁠*
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Text
Just had the wild realisation that I can write whatever I want here. This is a thing that I am allowed to do. I can scream into the void. I don't have to tag my posts. Grammar is a social construct. It doesn't matter who's listening. The people I love and who love me will talk to me posts or no posts. Someone's going to read this and smile. Even if it's just me.
I can watch only the finales of shows to see their happy endings. I can eat cornflakes in the afternoon. I can go into bookstores just to creepily stare at the hardcovers of Victorian literature. I can write meticulous notes for subjects I'm not studying, and highlight it to Pinterest perfection. I can tell people I want to bite them out of sheer love. I can write long emails to my friends about weird slippers that remind me of them.
I can tell you that it's been a hot year, the hottest one to date, and that April hasn't seen a single drop of rain fall onto the earth. But it's hanging in the air, making it heavy with moisture and that relentless, relentless heat. It's muggy and the swamp theme I chose for my bullet journal couldn't be more appropriate. I can tell you how I keep singing that song in my head, Corner Of My Sky, the one whose music video has Michael Sheen wrangling with an occult toaster. "The rain, the rain, the rain, thank god the rain."
I can tell you anything I like. I can tell you that I'm afraid of being forgotten, that I've always longed to be famous, that I have a hard time not caring about every single little thing. I can tell you that I'm ace and I'm afraid that no one will ever love me the way I need them too, even if I love them the way that they need me to. I can tell you the nightmares have gotten better, but they're still there, they don't seem to want to leave me. I can tell you that I'm so much more ill and broken than I dare think about. Because I am afraid that if I start thinking about it, I shan't stop, and then it will become everything. And I don't want it to be everything. I can tell you that. I can tell you that I have beautiful memories, too, not just the fear and the loss and the anger.
I can tell you that I'm a performer, an entertainer, and I love making people laugh. I'm more comfortable on stage, where people are already listening, than trying to go up and make conversation to groups of strangers. I can tell you how wonderful it feels to have been able to speak to so many people all around the world, to have them know me, to listen to me, and to listen to them in turn. I can tell you that I don't know where to draw the line sometimes, I'm never entirely sure when I'm joking, and the act easily becomes a second skin. I can tell you all of that.
I can tell you all the things that I used to tell myself in letters sealed in envelopes addressed to Future Me. And it won't matter, and it does matter, and it's all so fucking absurd. It doesn't make any sense at all. Does it? I don't know. I can tell you that I don't know very much at all. Knock knock. Who's there? No one. No one who? No one who matters. Knock knock. I haven't been able to walk around for a month. This room is an oven and I'm being slow-cooked, broiled into a little Asmi pie. I read fanfiction yesterday after a long while. That was nice. I think it's really cool that you all know me. You do know me. Sometimes better than I know myself. I can tell you that.
I can tell you the truth. I can tell you I love you. And that to be seen and to be known is a gift that I will always be grateful for. I can tell you that you don't have to listen. But if you do, then hi! Nothing makes sense. Let's sit in the nonsense for a while. I have biscuits. Would you like one? I'm very human. It's one of the things that gets me so easily hurt. Maybe it happens to you too. I can tell you that my plant Crowley is surviving, unlike the others did. I can tell you that maybe you and I are, too.
It's 8:02 in the morning. I might just eat breakfast now. It does seem like the thing to do. How weird and wonderful that is.
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