#‘it might be a little too late to change’

[gloomwitchwrites]

congrats on 1k!

would you be able to do something with ghost and pda? like when he’s with the team being all intimidating but completely changing when he’s with you?

Oh, anon! I would be happy to! Do I believe that at work Simon is an intimidating and slightly scary individual? Absolutely I do. Do I also believe that outside of work Simon is literally the opposite? Yes. Yes, I absolutely do. This is written with a gn!reader in mind!

Content & Warnings: fluff, brief mentions of canon-typical violence, brief suggestive themes

Word Count: 535

A/N: Thank you to everyone who sent in requests for the 1k follower event. This is just a reminder that the event is closed and I am not taking any more requests. Thank you!

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // 1k follower event masterlist

Simon who is always a stoic and intimidating individual while on the job. He is relatively calm, cool, and collected. He is excellent under pressure. He is confident in his skills. And like his callsign, Simon is exactly that—a ghost.

Simon who can slit throats, break necks, and unload his weapon without a second thought. He doesn’t blink when it’s not one of his own. Some find that scary. Others admire him. Simon accepts the praise quietly and keeps going.

Simon who starts to shift when it’s finally time to come home. The team notices but doesn’t say anything. Simon always appears a bit anxious. His foot constantly taps like he’s impatient and can’t get out of there fast enough. They don’t blame him. They all have someone they want to return to.

Simon who knows that he can’t drive too fast or speed his way home because he knows you’ll be upset with him. And he always arrives late in the night when you don’t expect him. Simon is quiet. He undresses quietly. Sets all of his stuff down. Curls up next to you in the bed. Immediately falls asleep.

Simon who is soft and tender with you when you finally awaken to him. He wants to rebuild that connection, repair what might have been lost, and that starts with the physical. Once that’s done, Simon only wants to rekindle the romance.

Simon who never wears his mask on dates. Never. Ghost is for work. The mask is for work. There are only two people in this relationship. You and Simon.

Simon who never stops touching you. If he’s not holding your hand, he’s resting his chin on the top of your head, or he has an arm slung over your shoulder. If he’s feeling a little possessive, it might be a hand on the back of the neck, or a firm palm on the ass.

Simon who doesn’t care if anyone sees him kiss you. If people stare, he’ll put on a show even if you protest and try to slip out of his arms.

Simon who absently finds himself touching you even in the most generic of places. Grocery store, pharmacy, or standing in line. His body is always physically near. He can’t help it.

Simon who speaks softly and gently to you. His gruff voice is for the bedroom or when you’re irritating him.

Simon who looms behind you (sometimes menacingly) just because he likes to show everyone around the two of you that you belong to him and no one else. People get the message rather quickly.

Simon who loves to pull you in by the waist and kiss you in corners when there isn’t anyone watching. He won’t put on a show. He just wants a little moment with you.

Simon who is always reaching for you when the two of you are out at a restaurant. Sometimes it’s a hand on the thigh. Sometimes it’s reaching across the table because he wants to hold your hand.

Simon who always tries to kiss your knuckles whenever you try to hand him something.

Simon who hates shutting out your love for a bit when he returns to his work.

taglist:

@km-ffluv @tiredmetalenthusiast @miaraei @cherryofdeath @sapphichotmess

@saoirse06 @haven-1307 @ferns-fics @spicyspicyliving @lialacleaf

@unhinged-reader-36 @miss-mistinguett @ravenpoe67 @tulipsun-flower

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@talooolaaloolla @rogerrhqpsody @sadlonelybagel @cinnabeanz @aykxz98

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@voids-universe @itsberrydreemurstuff @azkza @ash-tarte @sammysinger04

@certainlygay @soapyreaper @hantheconqueror @dakotakazansky @jaggersinclair

@suhmie @kidd3ath @lovely-ateez @marispunk @glitterypirateduck

[sunflower-chai]

THANK YOU the acolyte for disproving the “jedi steal kids” sentiment held by so much of the fandom. they ask for permission from a guardian before children can be tested! and even if they pass it is their choice to go or not!

also thank you for giving me more physically affectionate jedi!! other than kanan and ezra, and one time with anakin and ahsoka after ahsoka literally died, i feel like we never see masters hug their padawans. sol and osha’s hug gave me LIFE.

really curious about what exactly the coven on brendok is. they don’t seem to be nightsisters yet they call themselves witches. they seem a little sus since they discourage osha from going into/learning about the outside world, which feels slightly cultish. but also mother aniseya clearly loves her girls and they clearly love her. she does not physically harm them (other than the force push during the training exercise) and she is warm and nurturing. it’s very complicated and i hope the show delves into that further. also what is it with force-sensitive children not having fathers?? lol.

i liked the contrast of mae wanting to share everything with osha while osha wants to discover who she is as an individual, creating some interesting tension in their relationship. i also feel like mae was a really good example of what unhealthy attachment actually looks like. if she cannot have osha, no one can. and she does not care about the potential repercussions for everyone else. i think mae might have realized she went too far near the end when she begged osha to jump over to her, but then she fell and it was too late. and her hatred for the jedi has twisted her mind so much that she does not blame herself for what happened but projects it onto them. they are the ones who wanted to take osha away. they are the reason osha is (presumably) dead. she is not at fault. they forced her hand.

it’s a really intriguing thought process, and i’m wondering where it came from. has mae always been this way? did the ascension ceremony change her nature in some way? this sort of goes back to my questions about the coven. mother aniseya said they were exiled for using “dark” powers. so are they dark side users? it’s interesting how they refer to the force as “the thread” and place more emphasis on individual agency over destiny (i.e., “the will of the force”). but mother aniseya also criticizes those who see the force as a “power” to wield rather than something that connects the galaxy. which is just… misinformed? the jedi also don’t see the force as a power? literally “the force surrounds us. it penetrates us. it binds the galaxy together.” so maybe they have some incorrect assumptions.

wondering if mae’s current master finds her on brendok after the fire. i feel like that would make sense. she’s eight years old and the only person left alive on the planet, she would need someone to find her. and continue to cultivate that hate within her and form her into the living weapon she is today.

[yanderenightmare]

TW: almost noncon, yandere, omegaverse, subjugation, some type of sexism

fem reader

Discussions about superiority and inferiority between Alphas, Betas, and Omegas have become more popular lately. It’s always been many people’s opinion that the weak should cater to those stronger than them—but a debate with that as its topic is unsavory. Unfortunately, they’ve found new ways to phrase it. 

A resonating “Unmated Omegas are a danger to themselves!” garners much more sympathy…

And with the rise of people talking about it in the media, it was only natural to move the conversation into school as well.

You keep your head bowed in class as the chill runs down your spine. You feel the glare of thirty fellow students—the points of their teeth, too, and how they snicker under their breath. It’s always been rather scary being an omega, but you can’t say you’ve ever felt quite so alone.  

The teacher’s an alpha, so why should he care how what he says impacts you? He’s preaching to the choir, and you’ve never had the right to sing. The three other Omegas in your class have all chosen to stay home. They probably have the right idea—wait it out until it all blows over.

But you don’t know when that might be… You don’t know if that will be.

Society is on the precipice of critical change—new politics, new laws, new systems, new rights that separate you from them. You wallow in fear of the outcome, lying awake at night and scrolling through the news under the safety of your duvet. The statements seem endless. You wonder, why are all politicians Alphas?

You don’t want any of the things they’re suggesting—mating homes to help you find the perfect Alpha to bond with, systematic pairings done from birth, auctions. Is no one going to suggest they put shock collars on all Alphas and Betas to keep them in check? They’re the ones who need to—

“Your scent is distracting the whole class—don’t you feel ashamed?” 

It’s too easy for him to have you bent over the desk, your wrist on your back in his big fist as he wraps his tie around them. He and his goons stand around, all smiles—watching—enjoying it. It’s as if they’ve planned the whole thing, the way two of them peel away from the crowd to grab each their pick of your feet. Parting them, they use your own shoelaces to tie them to the desk legs.

The ringleader laughs. There’s an awful smell coming off him in waves—it makes you quiver. He flips your skirt up and whistles at the sight, showing everyone your ass and cotton undies. The bulge he presses against you is enough to make your tears spill despite how hard you’d fought to keep them at bay, knowing it only arouses them further.

“Aww, don’t cry, little bitch. You should be happy,” he coos, leaning over your trapped form to whisper right at your ear. “Don’t you know? You’ll never feel happier than you will bouncing on my big Alpha dick. It’s all your little Omega cunt dreams about, isn’t it?” He snickers, fiddling with his belt buckle—you flinch at every sharp clink as he jostles the metal. “Well, salvation is here—”

“Keep it to yourself.” Another voice breaks through the sounds of hollers and cheers.

Your eyes open to see him. You despise how your heart jumps in relief.

“Oi, you—” the guy at your back challenges, stepping away from you and toward the interruption.

“Yeah, me,” he states blankly, jaded. He eyes the rest of the guys with disinterest—five betas, zero threat—before telling them, “All of you. Scram.”

They all take a step to walk out as if his voice alone had compelled them, but then the previous guy interjects, making them stop in their tracks again. “Tch—you know what they’re saying. All unmated Omegas are free game, and I won this one. So back off.”

It was like watching a match of tug-of-war.

“Heh,” the intruder laughs. “That rule only counts for Alphas.”

You spot your aggressor's fists curl—there’s a growl rumbling in the back of his throat. “I am an Alpha, asshole.”

“Really?” he feigns, sizing him up with a cocky tilt of his head. “Couldn’t tell.” He doesn’t seem fazed in light of the aggression—actually, it seems to amuse him if anything. “To me, you smell no different from all these other Beta losers.” 

He takes a casual step forward, hands in his pockets and a smile on his face—baring canines with grace.

“But if you wanna prove it, I’m ready when you are.”

It’s quiet after the declaration. The betas are unsure who’s side to pick, none of them eager to get caught in the middle. It becomes a competition purely between the two Alphas.

Without backup, your aggressor backs down and leaves.

“Thought so,” your savior jeers, showing the crowd out, closing and locking the door behind them.

It’s quiet after they’ve left.

You hide your face. Listening to his footsteps approach—he sighs when taking the place of the former guy. He doesn’t touch you, though.

“Y’know…” he starts. “That guy might be trash, but he isn’t wrong…” He picks up your skirt and drapes it back in place. “None of this would ever happen if you weren’t unmated.”

You speak through grit teeth. “Untie me.”

He chuckles familiarly at that, clicking his tongue at you. “What? Aren’t you gonna say please?” But he does what you say anyway. Squatting down, he starts with your ankles.

The scent of your fear still lingers in the air despite your tough act. You’ve always been so steadfast, ever since you were kids, even when it does you no good. He frees your feet—one, then the other, slowly—he even reties your laces into pretty bows before he’s done. 

He remembers it being so obvious. The sun rose in the morning and the moon at night, and you were supposed to be an Alpha while he a Beta at best. You promised you’d be by his side to keep him safe forever, and he wanted nothing more.

But then puberty hit, and nothing was as you’d imagined.

He stands and unknots the tie keeping your wrists restrained.

You immediately push him off—already storming away.

“Do I get no thank you, no nothing? Always so stubborn—” He grabs your arm.

You spin around, an unnatural snarl on your face. “Let go!”

You’d have been a terrifying Alpha. But as fate has it, you’re not. And you shouldn’t act like it. It only lands you in trouble.

But he doesn’t say that. 

“You been watchin’ the news?” he says instead, ignoring your cry and keeping a firm grip on your arm. “Seems like auctions are winning the voters. You know what that means?”

He feels you flinch, followed by a quiver. He can tell. No matter how good you are at hiding it. He can see—the way you’re fraying at the edges, barely holding it together. Always acting so strong. He can’t tell whether you enjoy torturing yourself or if you’re just that good at convincing yourself you’re fine.

“Pretty soon, new authorities are gonna come storming in here, roundin’ up every sorry unmated Omega they find, and put ‘em all on a farm where pompous Alphas can have their pick of the litter.”

He can never tell what you’re thinking, but he knows he doesn’t need to tell you any of this. You’re not stupid, you never have been. He knows you already know. But…

“You should decide now while it’s still your choice.” 

You must be terrified. He understands. But truly… it’s obvious what you have to do, isn’t it?

“It’s not like you have many options.”

It’s obvious. It always has been.

You don’t meet his eyes. You haven’t for a long while. Actually, you haven't since both of you got your test results. He understands this wasn’t what you had in mind, but you can’t afford to mope about it forever—

“How am I supposed to choose any Alpha when you’re all such assholes…”

Your mutter stunts him. It wasn’t what he expected. Or, the words were more or less exactly something he’d expect from you, but that voice—quiet and soft, dangling on the brink of sweet. If you’d said anything else, he’d have taken it as a confession.

“Can't argue with that,” he ends up chuckling again.

You hate how easy this is for him. He would cry at every turn when you were kids. It’s unfair. 

“But you can’t keep doing this, either,” he states. His voice is soft, paired with that ugly authority they all have when talking to you—talking down to you. “Just look where it gets you—scared and exhausted because of it. At least have the brains to stay home.” He says it as if it’s a joke, but you both know it isn’t. His chuckles are light—far from fullhearted.

He bends down, trying to find your eyes. He still holds onto your arm, knowing you’d sooner stomp away than listen to him. His other hand brushes your cheek gently, tucking your hair behind your ear.

“You hear the call from the rafters—it’s not about what you want anymore. It’s about what you need.”

That’s what they say, isn’t it? What you need. You want to slap him. Scratch him with claws, bite his throat out—make him choke on his own words. Need? What you need is for them all to fuck off.

You mean to say it with the same sentiment, but something hard and rough in your throat makes all your words come out wobbly. “Mate an Alpha to stay safe from other Alphas. What a joke.”

You bow your head further. The tears return. They burn as they trail down the sore streaks from before.

He’s never seen you like this. He won’t lie, it makes his pants tight—feeling the urge to suck your cheeks, hold you close and comfort you. But knowing you right, you’d probably never let him. Your face would probably scrunch up in disgust, punch his gut, knee his groin, then turn on your heel and leave him on the floor wheezing.

You really would have made the most terrifying Alpha. 

“The world isn’t fair,” he agrees. “But you get nowhere cryin’ about it—do it my way, and you’ll never—”

“Have any freedom,” you cut him off with a sniffle. 

It’s about the most adorable thing he’s seen in his life.

He gets why you don’t like Alphas—they’re all gross. He makes himself sick sometimes. He can’t believe he’s getting off on watching you have a mental breakdown. There’s something seriously wrong with his side of the species. His throat’s tight, mouth watery with the urge to reap your vulnerability. 

Suppressing it only makes his inner beast furious. Some of that aggression comes out in his next words.

“I’m sorry, but the world doesn’t give a shit about your freedom.” 

The grip around your arm tightens, and you look up in shock—watching his narrowed eyes through your watery ones. 

“What you need is safety—now more than ever. Or do you like being preyed on by every Alpha around the corner?” 

Your bottom lip trembles at the reality of it—a little while ago, you were almost— 

“One of these days, I'm not gonna be here in time, and you’ll be a slave to some fucking—” 

He huffs and hangs his head. His hand loosens up—it trembles where he holds you in place.

“In all honesty, I think I’m more scared than you,” he whispers under his breath. “I think I might kill—”

He stops himself again. You don’t know if it’s in an effort not to frighten you or himself.

“Speak about needs…” he begins anew, now softer. “I need to know you’re safe. I need to—” He looks up. His eyes are back to being round. “I need you more than you need me, probably.”

There’s a desperation on his face. It almost looks like he’s on the verge of tears himself.

“So… please?” he begs. “Will you keep me safe like you promised and stay by my side?”

Your tears dry and prickle. Looking into his eyes now, you see the same boy you knew back in your childhood—that one who’d chase you all over even when you’d call him a sniveling crybaby. You realize, Alpha or not, he hadn’t changed all that much at all. 

“It’s not like you need my permission,” you end up saying.

You’ve always been so hard-headed. He has to smile. “No, but I want it.”

You nibble your lip. You can’t believe you’re at the mercy of this big dumb hunk of… you don’t have the words to describe him. He wasn’t exactly a crybaby anymore. 

“Okay. You win.” 

His eyes widen as you bear your neck with a stretch. Head high and shoulders slack. 

You swallow thickly. “Get it over with.”

He shudders at the sight. He didn’t know what he’d been expecting, but now it almost seemed too soon. 

“We should be supervised by a professional—you know how wrong things can go—”

“Hurry up before I change my mind.” Your eyes remain shut, and your lips pursed.

His tongue grows thick in his mouth at your bark. A sudden stroke of performance anxiety makes his palms sweaty, hands heavy and shaking. But then the sight of your soft neck has his mood shift, becoming drowsy.

He has no control over the growl that begins rumbling from his gut.

But he doesn’t apologize for it either.

He bends forward—breaths on your chest before he licks your throat. You can’t help but whimper at the warmth. He watches you through hooded eyes—your usually angry face is now all cute, riddled with anxiety you try hiding paired with the grim anticipation of pain.

“Shh,” he soothes, kissing the spot softly. He sways you against him, then lifts you up on the desk for you to sit. Grazing your neck with teeth when feeling your hands tangle two fistfuls of his shirt. He expects you to push him away, but you don’t—you tug him closer instead as if silently telling him to hurry up.

But he doesn’t want to rush, doesn’t want to lose himself—that’s how accidents happen. So he sticks to sucking gently, only tiny nibbles that leave your skin hot and lightly bruised in their wake.

You give a moan once he finds the spot, and he growls in restraint upon the pretty sound—feeling you relax despite being threatened with his teeth right at your artery. He almost humps your leg in return, feeling the boil of blood pump him hot and heavy in his pants—breaths turning equally hot and heavy, each one laced with rust.

Drool coated your neck in a cool sheen, soothing the marks made beneath it, while his lips and fangs aroused pleasure in the spot that now ached for the sting of his bite.

“Please,” slipped from your mouth while tugging him closer. 

His eyes, completely drunk on the pretty prayer, had only a slim rim of color left surrounding the hungering bottomless pits, blown full and black with opium.

No one could come and take you away from him now. Not with his print so pretty on your neck. You were his—just as you were always supposed to be.

BNHA – Deku, Kirishima, Natsuo, Amajiki, Mirio

JJK – Yuuta, Yuji

HQ – Kuro, Miya twins

DS – Tanjiro, Zenitsu

[daisiescomelate]

Love Spell

Prompt: secret crush + alcohol = disaster. Sukuna believes himself able to hold his liquor but he might quit drinking all together after tonight.

Content: Sukuna/Reader, drunk Sukuna, drunk flirting, sukuna hiding his crush.

masterlist

The music reverberated on his body, pumping his blood and making him feel hot. His vision was a blast of red light and dancing shadows. He struggled with the floor that couldn’t hold steady, the drink on his hand spilled a little from the side. He gulped it down so nothing else would go to waist. A figure in front of him curled their fingers calling him over and he smiled, ready to step forward, when from behind a familiar voice called his name.

“Sukuna”

The ring of that voice was clear to his ear even in the chaos of the club. It shot a run down of electricity down his spine to set all over his skin and on the pit of his stomach with a tingle. He turned around with the intention of focusing his eyes on the ones he wanted to see. Your image separated from the blur of the crowd and took a better shape as you got closer.

“Sukuna, it’s late. Let’s go, I have work tomorrow.” You grabbed his wrist, trying to make him focus on you. The trick was not necessary, his gaze was set on you and your outfit. If his eyes wondered it was to take a better look. “We are the only ones left, and you’re too drunk to stay by yourself, buddy.”

“Yeah, sure”, he said absentmindedly. As if he would offer resistance to the idea of you taking him anywhere. Damn, that outfit looked good on you.

“Alright, chop chop.” You pulled his arm and guided him through the mass of people towards the exit. He followed you from behind and his eyes couldn’t help to wonder somewhere they shouldn’t, but he was relatively quick to catch himself. The place smelled like alcohol and sweat, but tailing behind you he got a trace of that scent of yours, not a perfume… shampoo? What shampoo was it again? He should buy it, it smells so good.

White light broke in the distance. The mess of bodies ended and the night breeze hit his face. A bulk guy in plain black said something to you, making you smile in his direction as you answered back. Sukuna frowned at the dude as he passed him. The man stared in confusion as he held the door open for you both.

“Easy, tiger.” He told him, which only annoyed Sukuna further. He could take down that guy with an arm tied behind his back. Was his height what gave him so much confidence? Sukuna had knocked out people much taller than him.

Sukuna felt his arm being tugged again and he remembered who he was following. He heard the sound of the heavy metal door close behind himself and like that the night fell quiet. His body already missed the vibration and his ears felt clogged, but now the street lights made it easier to see and you looked stunning with the white gleam surrounding you like a halo.

“Can you walk?” you asked, changing the grip you had on his wrist to his shoulder. His brain needed a second to process your words, too focused on the way your hand traveled up his arm. Was it the cold from outside or the path your fingers drew on his skin that gave him goosebumps and made his head give another spin? He finally made sense of the question. It sounded like a stupid question, to be honest.

“Of course– Of course I can walk” he said, but for some reason the words were hard to get out because of the weight of his tongue. Sukuna lifted one hand and touched the tip of his tongue with the tip of his fingers wondering what the hell was wrong with it. The action seemed to move his center of gravity because he tilted to the side and almost fell into the pavement.

You were there immediately, catching his weight with your whole body and pushing him straight back up. At the contact of your sides pressed together a low moan escaped him. His arm seemed to move on its own when he curled it around your waist. If he tilted his head and moved it to the side your lips would be right there for him to catch.

“C’mon big boy, use both feet.” You said while you struggled.

The shape of them was so tempting. He wanted to push closer and trap your lower lip between his teeth, lick to finally get an idea of what they tasted like. A thought flashed at the back of his mind, something he was supposed to remember. Something important.

“Sukuna please, cooperate with me. You’re too heavy.” You catched that lip between your own teeth and then the tip of your tongue flashed out to care for that spot. Sukuna followed every bit and felt his inside flutter. Then, the previous thought sparked through the haze of the whiskies and margaritas and he remembered.

Fuck, too close. He thought, and quickly moved to get on his two feet properly and took his arm away.

The sudden motion made you stumble. You catched yourself by holding his arm again. When you were secure on your feet again you looked up at him.

“Ready now?” You said with a scolding frown.

In the haze of the alcohol Sukuna had almost forgotten how elemental it was for him to keep his hands to himself when you were around. The wave of rationality, unfortunately, quickly reseeded when he felt you hug his waist and place his arm over your shoulder. Suddenly he couldn’t remember the important thing.

“I will help you walk, let's go. There is no one else on the streets at this hour, I want to get home as soon as possible.” You secured his position by holding his hand that was hanging over your shoulder and gave the first step forward.

Sukuna hummed at your perfume again and buried his nose on your head.

“You still feel like flirting?” You laughed, because he had been playing and praying all night as he usually did, setting for anyone that showed him a green light.

“Mmm…” he answered, trying to discern if what he was smelling was some kind of fruit or herb. He felt like there was some vanilla in there.

Something was odd, though.

Ah, yes.

Sukuna moved his hand and catched yours again, intertwining your fingers together.

There.

He felt your body shake slightly and he guessed you were silently laughing but he couldn't figure out what it was. He heard something along the line of ‘so cute’. Maybe there was a puppy somewhere.

Sukuna raised his head to look for the puppy, pushing you to the side with his weight when his balance changed. He felt you push in the opposite direction so as to not be sent out of the sidewalk and into the streets.

The streets were soaked after a light night rain. Water dripped from the leaves of the trees you passed. The fresh air was so different from the smoke heavy air of the club. Sukuna thought back on how fun the night was. He had found a very fun, very pretty redhead as soon as you all got there and followed her without looking back.

He remembered her dancing while staying close to him and how hypnotizing she had become a few rounds into the night. He was sure he knew who he was taking home with him then when he got bored of the party. He tried to remember what she had said her name was. Heather? Haidy? No wait, that was someone else. The name with the H was the blond one. Red hair, red hair… Maybe he never got her name? It was loud. He hadn’t asked either.

Sukuna moved his free arm to pat over his jeans and jacket. Walking with him twisting and moving like that made it hard for you to keep your hold of him.

“Did you forget something? Your phone?”

“Nah. I got someone’s number… I don’t– I don’t remember actually. I’m looking.”

“Can’t you do that when you get home?”

“She was hot. Lincy– Lily– something.”

“Well, looks like she really catched your interest.” So much that he forgot to catch her name. “We’ll look for her next week.”

“Mmm…” Sukuna hummed pleased. “She really knew how to dance.”

“I’m sure, Romeo.”

Sukuna delighted in the memory for a second longer and then frowned. “We were having a good time, but I lost her at some point.” Did someone else call him over? Maybe she got a sight of someone else, or maybe…

“There were a lot of people there and you were very drunk, it wasn’t hard to miss people in that crowd. I was talking with someone too, I left to get a drink and they were gone. I couldn’t find them again. It was a shame, they were cute.”

Ah, right…

Sukuna pressed his jaw at the memory. He had seen you in the crowd with a person standing a little bit too close to you for his own comfort. He was too far gone with the liquor to care to be subtle about it. After a while staring at the person talking you to your ear and looking clearly displeased, Redhead lost interest and left him to pout by himself.

Standing in the middle of the crowd dancing around him, with a glass on hand, he watched you too get all cozy with each other. The person made some stupid joke and you laughed like an idiot with your eyes shining under the dim light. The person was nothing but lacking. Shitty plain cheap clothes, messy hair, too many accessories. Sukuna had a bad feeling about this person and felt like he should walk all the way there to warn you.

When you moved away from them he didn’t waste a second to walk into their direction to say hi. He didn’t do anything to them, he didn’t even mention you, but they must have got the message that Sukuna thought they were annoying because soon they escaped to the darkest corner of the club to hide from him.

It was once the problem was taken care of that the blond winked at him from a distance. Right, Haily. What happened after that is more of a blur, most likely that was the point when he started accepting the flashy cocktails from the bartender.

You walked another block with Sukuna dragging his feet. Sukuna thought back to the sunset peach cocktail he shared with another faceless person. Your steps were heavier on the pavement and you were audibly struggling to breathe.

You both walked another few blocks like that until you called it quits. You stepped away from the streets and carried him to the side. You were passing a wide park with a small pond next to a set of trees just ahead with two benches that had a nice view of the water next to it.

“Okay, I need a break.” He heard you say. He followed you as you walked to the side and next to one of the benches. “Sit down, big boy.”

Sukuna dropped all his weight over the bench. He cursed between his teeth when he noticed the seat was still wet because of the rain. He tried to stand up but you pushed him back down. “If you stand up now and you fall on your ass I won’t be able to pick you back up.” You said rubbing your shoulder. “Jesus, how much do you weigh? Do you really need that much muscle?”

“You don’t like ‘em?” He smiled and stretched his arms over the back of the bench and spread his legs, as if setting himself on full display.

He saw something under the dim lights of the street lights above, something that delighted his drunken brain. You looked slightly embarrassed by looking and he had the sudden urge of seeing if he could make it worse.

He reclined forward, set on not breaking eye contact.

“Why are you standing there? I don’t bite.”

You sighed heavily and sat next to him, with his arm behind your back. The tip of his fingers brushed the hair at the end of your nape. “Your outfit looks nice today.” You rolled your eyes, which pleased him.

Sukuna knew of his reputation and how so many people saw him as a player –not that he could deny the allegations. If he acted like any other thing around you it would only be suspicious. So he kept a solid act with you, but never let it go out of hand.

But why deny himself something he wanted? Because he came to realize he might want this a little bit too much. No relationship in his life had ever been nothing but flitting. He didn’t know how to make long term things work. And he had the impression if he ever wanted to try something with you it would be a one chance opportunity. So he made a plan. The main problem about his lack of commitment was how fast he got bored of people, but he had a strong feeling that wouldn’t be a problem with you. The second issue that interfered with his relationships was his whole attitude. He was pretty and hot while his mouth was shut or doing some other things, but very few people could truly stand him on a day to day basis.

So he was doing some self improvement work, like a big boy. But it was taking too damn long. His ego had done a great job keeping him blissfully blind to the depths of his bullshit. Even he had a hard time listening to himself speak as of now.

It was taking way too long. He was abashed by how much crap was engraved in his personality and how hard all his stupid patterns run down on his system. He gained self awareness and absolutely nothing else, which was a nightmare because he could now clearly see all the ways the ship would go down if he ever took the first step with you but had no solution to any of his problems. The clock was ticking, monkeys kept crawling your way to lamely flirt with you, and Sukuna had to bite his tongue and hope none of those assholes could convince you of anything.

Fortunately he learned that he could distract you a little bit with his games.

He played with a strand of your hair that had fallen out of place, keeping his eyes fixated on the skin of your neck. He traced a short line from the line of your hair to your upper back over your spine. You shudder and slightly move away by instinct.

“Cold breeze?” He asked, playing you. It gained him a scold but you immediately looked away from him. He smiled to himself and traced the same line for the second time. There was a slight shudder again but you didn’t move and he smiled to himself.

He tilted his head to be closer to you and blew over the shell of your ear. You jumped at the unexpected action, covered your ear and flipped your face only to realize he was close enough for your noses to be close to touching.

“Where are we going anyways?” he asked without moving.

“What?” You asked dumbfounded.

“Where are we walking to, my house or yours?”

You blinked, “Oh.” You cleared your throat and said, “I was going to drop you off at your place and then go back to mine.”

“That sounds so complicated, you should just stay the night.”

“I don’t feel like sleeping on a couch, thank you. My back is going to kill me tomorrow.”

“My bed is big. No need for you to stay on the couch.”

You opened and closed your mouth without a sound like a fish out of the water.

Sukuna moved forward, purposely further infringing into your personal space.

“I’m not gonna do anything to you. No need to worry.” He smiled widely, because he meant it. Sukuna was working so hard to keep his hands to himself, if you wanted to make him change his plans you would have to beg him.

“What’s the deal with you today?”

Sukuna looked down at your lips –which made your eyes grow wide– and took a while to think.

“Too much alcohol, maybe.” Me murmured to himself and straightened his posture. “Argh…” he complained and stretched his arms over his head. Alarms were ringing at the back of his mind again and he felt like he had to back up immediately.

“So, are we staying here all night or are we going home now?” He said as he crossed his arms over his chest looking forward and avoiding the stream of questions in your eyes. “I feel like it’s about to start raining again.” He said looking up at the sky.

You looked up and the grimace on your face told him you agreed with him. “Okay, let’s go.

You stood up and extended a hand to help him out of the bench too. Sukuna placed both hands over his knees and stood from the seat.

“I’m feeling much better, actually.” He said but still placed his arm around your shoulders as he walked forward. He didn’t lay his weight on you again, instead he focused on keeping his stand so no other part of you would actually touch him. “Why don’t we buy something to eat on our way back, love?”

“At three in the morning?”

“There is a convenience store around the block close to my apartment. Did you bring your wallet?”

“Pay for yourself.”

“I never pay for anything when I go out. I don’t have money on me.”

Sukuna heard a quiet ‘idiot’ from you and laughed. You were still the only two people out there so he couldn't care less about how loud he was.

[ghostboneswrites2]

Hear me out: Early Seasons Daryl vs Later Seasons Daryl

Early TWD Daryl would have been emotionally unavailable, snappy, cold, and the ways in which he showed his care for you were limited to bringing you back cool things from a run, defending and protecting you, and sitting in silence with you

Late TWD Daryl would be a more tender lover. He’s had some growth by now. He’s learned to care, learned to love, learned to feel and express things. He’d drape an arm over you in bed or place a gentle hand on your back when he walked past you. He’d hold you and tell you it’s okay to cry.

Pre-Alexandria, he’d shut you out when things got bad. Post Savior war and especially post-bridge explosion, he’d ask you what was wrong and try to fix things, try to keep you hanging on. He wouldn’t want you to slip down that slipper slope of numbness and emptiness like he has before.

Romance itself was hard to come by in the early years of the apocalypse with him. He might find you a flower or bring back your favorite snack now and then. He might even let you catch him staring. He might not complain when you give him a little kiss on his cheek before he leaves.

In later years, though, just his eyes could soften in a way that made you feel loved. He’d brush a stray strand of hair out of your face. He’d fix your shirt as it slipped off your shoulder. He’d stop and tie your shoe. He’d disappear up the stairs after dinner and return moments later to tell you he got your routinely scheduled bedtime shower started.

If you had sex with him in the early years, it would be rough and awkward and aimless. Erratic thrusts with no rhythm, little to no satisfaction on either side, and a lot of awkward silence afterward.

At the prison, sex would have gotten a little better, and he’d start to recognize that your feelings for him ran a little deeper than surface level attraction. He’d try to do things to show you that he cared too.

Until things for comfortable at Alexandria, sex would half after the prison fell. Nobody had the energy or emotional stability for sex or romance back then.

Once things got steady at Alexandria, you two would fuck like bunnies. A comfortable bed? Hot showers? Nothing was stopping you two from exploring each other and learning new ways to please each other.

When things would get crazy and chaotic and dangerous, the sex would be quick but passionate. Maybe he just saw you for the first time since he escaped the Sanctuary and he’d fuck you in the bathroom at Barrington house just to regain some sense of control.

Seasons 1&2 Daryl would often scold himself for checking you out. He’d sometimes wonder if you flirted with him, but he’d always remind himself who he was to the group and how unlikely it was that you or anyone would show interest in the likes of him or Merle.

Seasons 3&4 Daryl would be a little braver. Lingering glances, making excuses to talk to you, an awkward chuckle. But he wouldn’t take it past that. You’d have to carefully tread toward the first move.

Seasons 5-8 Daryl would be protective but withdrawn. He’d be so occupied with everything going on that he’d have little time to spend with you, and truthfully it wasn’t much different on your part. He’d miss you, though, as you’d miss him.

Eventually, though, after all of his growth and emotional maturing, he’d be a soft, gently, kind partner. He would become a man in so many more ways than one, and that kind of change would show in all aspects of your life with him. Be it romance or intimacy or day to day life.

In the early years, when you’d fight or take time apart, you’d wonder if it was going anywhere with him. If it was even worth the stress and emotional neglect.

But later, when you two were getting older and your relationship got stronger and kinder, you’d realize it was all worth it just to experience this side of him.

[cbrownjc]

I apologise in advance for the length. I wanted your take on one specific part of 2x5 that bothered me a little and is partially why my little DM shipper hope wavered (that and being burned by ongoing shows in the past). Both you and @nalyra-dreaming have brilliantly pointed out how the episode does a great job at recreating the horror origin where Daniel is kept in the cellar and I wholeheartedly agree. However, what has bothered me about it is that, in the episode, it is not Armand that chooses to let Daniel live. Granted, in the book it's more a stay of execution than anything else, but it's still his choice alone. In 2x5 that choice is now Louis'. And while I know that in the novel Armand considers Daniel a gift from Louis, part of me is bothered by this slight lack of agency. It felt to me like just another thing Armand did to comply to Louis' wants in his desperation to not lose him. And that any Chase that happens is not necessarily out of genuine curiosity but because Louis called Armand boring and Armand just wants to know what set Daniel apart for Louis.

And then my brain goes "fruit of the poisonous tree" and am then afraid that Daniel's meaning wrt Armand (which, to my great frustration, I have already seen other book readers diminish) will literally be: oh he's just the scraps Armand gets because he couldn't have Louis or Lestat (because of the horrors, he did all of it, etc). I don't WANT it to be that and I guess I'm a little terrified about it.

Idk what to make of any of it and I'm nervous because I REALLY want to see this pairing develop as they deserve. So please, tell me what I'm missing in my rambling and borderline incoherent concern. Help me Obi-Wan Kenobi, you're my sanity's only hope. ^_~

Hi!

Okay, well, I will try to be your Ben Kenobi here, but remember, even he failed to see what was going on with Annikin before it was too late . . .

Yeah, okay that isn't very confidence-giving, is it? 😬 🙃

Anyway! 🤭

Okay, so on the first point:

I have actually seen one or two people point out the fact that it was Louis who basically intervened and stopped Armand from killing Daniel, and Armand didn't do so himself. And I'm not going to say I can't see yours and some other's point about this. All I can say about that point for now is that we don't know what happens right now between Daniel and Armand after Daniel was let go and dropped off at the drug den. Because there might actually come a point when Armand thinks he very well could kill Daniel and Louis would have no idea, as Louis only requests that Daniel live out "this night." There was no request from Louis to Armand for Daniel to live out his whole life.

So we might actually get a moment, in the future, where we see a time when Armand decides to just kill Daniel -- but, just like with Louis in the tunnel back in the 40s -- stays his own hand via his own decision to do so.

So, I think on this point right now, the only thing any of us can do is take a "wait and see" about it. But there are still doors open to Armand deciding on his own to spare Daniel's life in a significant way I think. With him not even being in love with Daniel yet at the time too IMO.

So, on to the second point:

No, I very much do not think Daniel is going to be seen as "scraps" that Armand gets because he couldn't have Louis or Lestat. And I think what is going to come into play to make that clear is the slight change the show has done wrt Armand's character and the Great Laws. After the Children of Darkness/Satan coven busted up, Armand in the book really didn't hold those rules in any high regard anymore. But the show has very clearly changed that, to where Armand was ready to kill Louis because Louis broke many of the Great Laws.

Assad himself made this clear that Armand really was going to kill Louis and only didn't do it because he chose love instead.

And if you take a look at the full list of the Great Laws that someone was amazingly able to translate, as well as this gifset of a specific scene from 2x03, a vampire being with a human in such a way is a direct violation of those laws that Armand in the show clearly holds to.

So for Armand to break that rule and choose to be with Daniel? Will not be a small thing.

So I think that alone will show that Daniel is not just a scrap. Armand's love for Daniel will be so much that he will, once again, ignore a rule he once held fast to in order to, once again, choose love.

And then, of course, there is the fact that Armand chose to actually break his biggest rule of all for Daniel, which is to never turn someone into another vampire -- which is also one of the laws the cult drilled into him. Yes, Armand's main reason for not doing so in the books was because he didn't want to damn someone into vampirism, as well as not believing that the Maker/Fledgling relationship can ever really work. But the other reason that I feel the show will also touch upon will very much also be because of the Great Law that older vampires should never work the Dark Trick upon someone, less that fledgling be too powerful in the blood.

But Armand's love for Daniel will be so great that he will not bear the thought of Daniel actually dying. And so, when the moment comes, he will not only break that Great Law, but his own personal reason why he doesn't want to turn someone. And he would rather face having to truly put his fear and belief about Markers and Feldglings to the side (and maybe still lose Daniel that way -- which in the books, he actually did for a time!) than lose Daniel forever via death.

Again, that has never seemed to me as Daniel just being a "scrap" to Armand, even when it comes to the books. But I expect the show will put an even greater emphasis on this, both when it comes to Armand's backstory and how now Armand in the show actually holds to those laws in a serious way.

So yeah, just some of my thoughts on those two points. I hope they can calm you somewhat but, if not, just know that, because of the format this story is now being told in, that will very much lend to things -- the characters and their relationships with each other -- to be even more fleshed out, along with character arcs to be planned out overall as well. (Which yes, not every TV show does, but this one is clearly doing so.) We won't get every answer to these things right away, but I think there are many doors open to exploring these things in a satisfying way over the course of the show. 🙂

[account-name]

Five headcannons you have about Phone Guy ?

yayyyyy thank you so much for the ask this is the first time i've been asked about him !!! this ended up a bit long because i wanted to fit in all my important phone guy lore because i've never gotten the opportunity to talk about him

i apologize if this is a bit all over the place and hard to read i'm not good at putting my thoughts into words

also i might reblog with more if i think of anything big i missed

he drinks way too much coffee. he needs to stay awake and alert all the time so he can continue to be productive despite his inconsistent sleep schedule (he gets nightmares which get more and more frequent over time) (and he is also being overworked which is not a good combo) (he doesn't remember the last time he's had a day off) so he uses the caffeine as a way to make up for that. plus he also just genuinely likes how coffee tastes. he also used to smoke but he stopped when his ex wife (marilyn) was pregnant with fritz, so he at least got over that one (if i didn't mention it yet he is fritz's dad btw). caffeine is the only addiction that he still actively struggles with by the time he dies.

he has a confusing relationship with his gender. i think in the normal fnaf timeline he unfortunately dies an egg and never gets the chance to think about it fully but in any au where he lives past that and learns that being trans is a thing he would proceed to have a gender crisis. (fun fact in the au i made specifically for selfshipping daydream lore he is working that out in real time) (i am supporting him every step of the way :) ) he is questioning and he has no idea how he identifies at the moment but that guy is not a man. he does still have a trans pin in the normal fnaf timeline but he doesn't actually know what it means. he found it while cleaning the ballpit one day and decided to keep it because it was kinda neat. he IS trans but he doesn't know it yet. i generally still refer to him with he/him since those are the only pronouns he ever used but depending on the au i think eventually he might experiment with other pronouns in the future. change is scary though so it would definitely take him awhile to get to that point. especially since he's been repressing his emotions for so long.

i've touched on this one before but he was working the day his son was murdered. he brought fritz to work with him thinking he could multitask but phone got caught up with work and wasn't paying enough attention to notice fritz getting lured to the back room. he didn't notice his son was missing until it was too late. he absolutely blames himself for it and it eats him up inside. he goes through a messy divorce shortly after since marilyn blames him too. poor phone guy has no one left except his bosses. at least they always cared about him right? they saw his potential when no one else did and he was their best employee. except no they didn't. william was actively manipulating him to do his bidding and henry just didn't care about him at all. poor phone guy. but he still puts on a happy face and pretends everything is fine until he can't anymore. he also blames himself for the other missing children because he was too far in denial and desperately wanted to believe that it wasn't what it looked like so he didn't do anything to stop it when other kids started disappearing. he knew what was happening he just couldn't bring himself to accept it. and then it was too late. he hates himself for that.

he's helped william hide bodies. not the missing children obviously, but whenever other employees happen to know a little too much and they turn up dead in the morning, someone's gotta clean it up. he's had to sweep so much under the rug. it's horrible but phone guy can't say anything or else it will all get pinned on him. phone guy getting framed for murder wouldn't help the situation much either. maybe it was the cowards way out to give in to the blackmail but he was put in a horrible situation and made the choice he had to to get out of it. he helped dispose bodies of his coworkers. it doesn't help that he trusted william and looked up to him for so long. he was one of the only people to ever say he was proud of him. and look where he ended up.

i can't decide on another singular hc to write an entire paragraph on so here's a bunch of small ones instead:

he dabbled in theatre in highschool. he wasn't a dedicated theatre kid or anything and definitely didn't continue after graduating but he did good

he has a beautiful singing voice. he'll get embarrassed if you overhear him though

he witnessed both bites, and sees 87 as his own fault since jeremy was following the instructions phone gave him

he's a breakfast enjoyer :)

he was born in 1957 and died at the age of 36 . fritz was conceived when he was 21

similar to his gender, his sexuality is also a mystery. he's probably ace but as for romantic orientation who knows

he likes to read. it's one of the only hobbies he has time for

he likes sci-fi and is a fan of star trek

he idly hums while he works

when he was a kid his parents had very high expectations for him and expected him to do something big with his life. they weren't bad parents but they weren't the best either. they were very strict with him especially when it came to school. (gifted kid burnout weeeoo)

he has a little sister (phone dude's mom) however he doesn't really have any contact with her or anyone else in his family at the time of fnaf as they moved away from utah and he did not follow them.

i love all the phone biology hcs mentioned in @ask-the-phone (sorry if you didn't want to be tagged lmk i can remove it) so those apply to my phone guy as well. (he molts periodically, his mouth is on the receiver, esophagus cord, ect.)

gives the best hugs

touch starved and very easily flattered

//⚠️cw attempted suicide for the next couple //

this is a dark one but he went into fnaf one knowing full well he was going die, and to an extent hoping for it. this is when he was at his absolute lowest. he was never going to get through that week. i think if for whatever reason the animatronics didn't kill him he would've finished the job himself. he's scared of death but he couldn't imagine a future for himself and didn't think he even deserved one. fnaf 1 was an act of suicide. despite this he still tries to leave helpful reassuring messages for mike to help him survive the week, even up until his last moments.

he tried to take his own life after the bite of 87. maybe also after the divorce too. it didn't work and he just had to go back to work afterward and pretend he was okay. he was not.

[ok back to the other hcs]

fritz always used to put stickers on phone's face. he continues to wear the stickers to remember him

while his head is phone shaped it's entirely biological. it's essentially like a bug exoskeleton. he was born like that and it's not questioned because that's a completely normal way for people to look. sometimes people are just phones

his head is also functional as a phone though. don't ask me how

he purrs when he's comfy. the sound is like a combination of purring and soft ringing.

in the movie universe he is alive and well and living a life outside of freddy's. he worked there briefly and recorded some tapes and then left before it all went wrong. i guess in this au his bosses never really saw him as anything special this time. his son still dies and he probably still gets divorced but phone is able to move on and heal and live his own life. good for him.

i think if phone guy didn't work at freddy's he would've made a good teacher

he is so full of autism

very much a perfectionist unfortunately

not easily angered, but he can get frustrated at times. he bottles it up though so he seems fine until he finally snaps

and that's the list i came up with so far :) i might add more if i think of anything important i forgot but thank you so much for giving me an opportunity to finally talk about my phone guy !!! :)

[ixexile]

Change Your Ticket

pairing: CHRIS STURNIOLO X READER

warning: SMUT, praising, spitting, choking, friends with benefits, orgasm denial, voyeurism

not proof read

**MDNI**

“Watching you get dressed messes with my head take that bag off your shoulder come get back in bed, we still got time left this don't have to be over”

I’m exhausted, I’m nauseous, I’m sweating through my clothes and who the fuck does a show in Oklahoma anyway? My phone has been blowing up since I landed and I feel like I could explode. I gave Chris my flight information so he could track my flight and make sure I’ve landed safely and now I have 10 missed calls. I didn’t expect him to call me as soon as the plane tire touched the runway. Chris and I have been hooking up for a little over six months and I will never get used to how needy he is. This is my first time meeting Chris while he is on tour with his brothers and I’m definitely feeling more nervous than I thought I would. I’m also surprised he asked me to come out so early in the day, I know Chris has stamina but not 10+ hours worth. I am so happy to be finally boarding off of this plane. I pray that Chris will allow me to nap when I get to the hotel because I feel like I have been traveling for years. That reminds me I probably should text him now that I am waiting for the uber:

I don’t know why I am so nervous to be here. I feel so comfortable around Chris and his brothers but traveling to him while he’s on tour just feels different than our normal arrangement of me going to his house at two am. I press my key card to the door and am met with Chris on the bed scrolling on his phone. He looks over at me and smiles hard.

“Y/n! Finally!” he says, walking over to help me with my bags. “How was your flight?” he asks.

“Yeah, finally. Not an awful flight it just felt like I was never going to get here” I sigh. “I’m surprised you wanted me to come so early in the day. I’m used to getting a text after midnight.” I laugh. Chris shrugs and scratches the back of his neck.

“I don’t know. Just thought it might be fun like maybe we could go out and do shit” he looks at me cautiously. “Also more time for fuck” he smirks. I roll my eyes and playfully push his shoulder.

“Before we do anything I need to shower. I feel disgusting and I was hoping to take a nap” I say while pulling out an oversized t-shirt and a thong. 

“If you wear that I don’t give a fuck if you nap” he says while slapping my ass. “I’ll let you nap but not for too long Ma. We have plans.” he flashes me a goofy smile.

“Oh so you were serious about going out to do shit?” I ask. Chris and I’s relationship has always been about sex and that’s it. No dates, no strings attached, I mean I hardly even sleep over after.  

“When am I ever not serious?” he asks, offended.

“All the fucking time Chris” I say.

“Well I’m Mr. Serious today y/n. Get your ass in the shower so you can nap so we can go on with our day already.” he says while leading me to the bathroom door.

I get out of the shower and feel my eyes start to close on their own. I need to sleep. I dry off, apply moisture and get into my clothes. I walk back into the room expecting Chris to be watching tv or something but all the lights are off and he’s shirtless sitting in bed waiting for me with ASMR on the tv.

“I don’t know how you listen to this shit go to sleep” he says, making me jump a little.

“How do you even know this is how I go to sleep?” I ask while raising my eyebrow at him.

“That one night you fell asleep after we hooked up I woke up and saw this shit on the TV so I just figured” he shrugs.

“Damn you must be in love. Paying attention to me and shit” I tease.

“So bold lately. I definitely am in love with that pussy though” he says and pats the bed. “Come on, you look exhausted.” he states. I feel my eyes close as soon as my head hits the pillow. I really was exhausted.

I wake to feeling the blankets shift above me. I open my eyes waiting for them to adjust and see Chris’ head under the blankets directly in front of me.

“Chris?” I mumble, my voice thick with sleep. I’m met with no response and feel him starting to kiss up my inner thighs. I can feel myself instantly getting wetter with each kiss. I will never get used to how my body reacts to him. He starts kissing over my clothed clit and I arch my back and whine out. I subconsciously start grinding myself into his face. I feel Chris press both of his palms to my hips to stop my movements. “Please Chris” I whisper. He slides my underwear to the side and gives my clit a sloppy kiss before pushing one finger into me stretching me out. He starts swirling his tongue around my bundle of nerves while he pumps one finger in and out of me. I move the blanket out of the way so I can watch him. His hair is falling in front of his eyes and he looks up at me with hooded eyes and I can feel his chain against my pussy. 

“Are you ready for another finger baby?” he says.

“Need it” I beg. Chris adds another finger, curling up to reach my g-stop and attaches his lip back to my clit swirling his tongue and sucking. Whenever he eats my pussy his mouth makes the most obscene sounds almost like he doesn’t want a drop to go to waste. I see him grinding himself into the mattress desperate for friction. He reaches his hands up to my tits and starts massaging them through my shirt.  “I’m really close Chris” I breathe out.

“Fuck yourself on my fingers y/n…yes baby, just like that. Such a good girl for me. Look how pretty your pussy looks, so fucking wet.” he moans. I feel myself getting closer and grab his hair to guide him to exactly where I need his mouth. 

“Nghhh I’m going to cum…I’m cumming fuck I’m cumming” I scream out while coating Chris’s face with my juices. I watch him wipe his mouth with his sleeve and smile. 

“That was so fucking hot baby. Look at what you did to me” he says while pointing to the tent in his briefs.

“Your turn?” I say while sitting up on my elbows. 

“Nope! We have plans, remember?” he says getting off the bed heading towards the bathroom I assume to get ready.

“Wait Chris, are you sure? I like feel bad” I say while moving to sit on the side of the bed.

“What? Can I not just want to pleasure my woman?” he yells from the bathroom. My woman? He’s insane. Nick has told me multiple times that he thinks Chris has feelings for me. Chris and I have always been very clear that this will never turn into anything so I don’t think him having feelings for me is likely. 

“Oh yes, your woman. Your woman who you booty call” I say rolling my eyes.

“I can hear the eye roll in your voice Ma” he says peeking his head out. “And can we get a move on? Told you about twenty times that we have plans. Wear something sexy.” he winks.

I decided on wearing a simple black mini dress and heels. I end up going with just some light makeup since it’s so hot I can’t be bothered to wear a full face. As I am putting my gold hoops in I see Chris walk towards me in the mirror. He wraps his arms around my hips and rests his chin on my shoulder.

“You look really fucking good in that dress” he whispers in my ear. I feel goosebumps break out on my neck and feel my face getting red. I turn around to face him and lean back on the sink.

“Thank you Chris. I bought this dress before this trip and I’m happy I decided to bring it here. You look really handsome, I’m used to only seeing you in sweats. I really like this shirt” I reach up and run my hands on his shoulders. 

“Gotta look good for my girl” he winks.

“I’m not your girl Chris. I’m a girl that you fuck” I say grinning at him.

“Yeah yeah whatever you want to call it” he waves his hand and smiles. “Are you ready for dinner?” he says, looking me up and down.

“Yeah I’m ready. Are Matt and Nick?” I ask him, taking one last look in the mirror. 

“Matt and Nick?” He looks at me like I have three heads.

“Well yeah. I mean I just assumed that they would be coming with” I say confused.

“Just us Ma.” he winks at me. What the fuck is going on.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Chris this place is so nice what the fuck? Do you take all of your girls here?” I tease him while I take my seat across from him at the table. 

“Nope. Just you” he says matter-of-factly. I let him order our meals while I take in the scenery. I can’t comprehend what is going on. It’s never that Chris treats me like an object. I'm just not used to this. This feels real. This feels like a relationship and I can’t wrap my head around it. I really do like Chris, that's not my issue. I just have commitment issues and I assumed he did as well considering he’s never had a serious relationship. 

“You good?” he asks me from across the table.

“Yeah I’m good! Just can’t believe we are here. This is so nice Chris but it’s going to be so expensive.”

“That’s not for you to worry about. I got you. You don’t think I’m good for it?” he squints his eyes at me looking almost offended.

“Oh no, I didn’t mean it like that” I begin to ramble feeling guilty. “I just feel bad. You’ve already paid for my flight, the hotel, the transpir-” Chris cuts me off by putting his hand on mine.

“Relax,” he chuckles. “I’m just fucking with you. I’d pay any amount of money for you y/n” he says. 

“You’re sweet Chris. Are you excited for your show tomorrow?” I ask. 

“Yeah, I’m definitely starting to get tired but I do love meeting the fans. I think I’m going to win the tour” he boasts. “Why you wanna come?” he smirks at me.

“I think I’m good on that. Your fans are like detectives I’m sure they’d figure out who I am or something” I say. “Does it feel good having all these girls fawning over you?” 

“You mean all the twelve year olds? Nah. Besides I only have eyes for you ma” he teases. 

“Don’t act like you don’t have any other bitches Chris” I pry. He raises his eyebrow at me and licks his lips. 

“I don’t. Why? You have other bitches?” he asks me seriously. 

“Oh trust me you are the only thing I can handle” I laugh. 

Our waiter comes back with our food and we both thank him. 

“This looks so good. I didn’t realize how hungry I was” I say, reaching for my fork.

“Eat up Ma, you’ve got a long night ahead of you” he winks at me and begins to eat. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Chris, why did you get dessert? I’m so full.” I say patting my stomach.

“We can’t not get dessert, that's like criminal” he says, shaking his head. Our strawberry cake comes out and it looks amazing.

“Okay maybe I can eat more” I giggle. 

“I feel like you have been so far away from me this whole time. Come here” he says, pulling my chair right next to me and putting his hand on my thigh.

“Chris, what are you doing?” I say trying to keep my voice down, scanning the room to see if anyone noticed. He looks at me confused.

“Nothing,” he smirks. I feel his fingers start to trail up my thigh under my dress.

“Chris we are at a five star restaurant we actually can not do this here” I say with wide eyes. Chris leans in, putting his mouth right next to my ear.

“I’m going to finger you under this table and you are going to be quiet, understand?” he whispers. All I can do is nod. “Words, y/n” he says, pulling back to look at me.

“Yes daddy,” I whisper, almost not audible. 

“Wearing that dress just to mess with me, huh? You’ve got me all worked, see?” he reaches for my hand and rests it on his bulge. I swallow hard. “Can’t even talk. You know you’re being a bad girl wearing that out.” he tuts. He moves his hand further up thigh and reaches my pussy. I scoot forward on instinct.

“Gotta sit still baby”

“Sorry” I take a shaky breath. My god he is so hard. Fuck I can’t for him to be in me later. Chris moves my panties to the side and starts rubbing circles around my clit. Thank god this restaurant is dimly lit and we are pretty much alone in a corner. 

“Eat your dessert baby. Can’t draw too much attention” he says seemingly unphased. I don’t understand how he can be so calm. I start to palm him through his pants and I can feel his hips jerk up. I giggle while trying to eat my dessert. He then roughly shoves to two fingers in my entrance pumping them in and out relentlessly. I moan out.

“Quiet y/n” he says sternly. What does he expect from me? My head feels like it's spinning. I start looking around to see if anyone notices and it doesn’t appear so. God, I’m starting to get close. I squeeze his cock roughly through his jeans and hear him clear his throat. I can tell Chris knows I'm about to cum with the way he’s looking at me.

“I’m right there Chris” I whisper, trying not to rock my hips. Chris abruptly takes his fingers out of me, brings them to his mouth and licks them clean.

“Chris what the fuck?! I was about to cum” I say, ripping my hand away from his lap. He dramatically puts his hand over his heart and gasps.

“I had no idea! I’m so sorry” he smirks.

“You’re a dick” I say through my teeth.

 I sit with my arms crossed while Chris pays for the bill. 

“Are you ready baby?” he asks, putting his card in his wallet.

“Are you ready, baby?” I mock him. “Yeah Chris, I’m ready” I huff with my arms still crossed. 

“So bratty” he laughs. 

We arrive back at the hotel and Chris stops and gets us snacks in the lobby. 

“How can you even think about food? We ate so much” I say while he checks out. 

“Just figured we’d work up an appetite” he shrugs. “Thank you” he says to the lady at the front desk and she smiles politely. We walk towards the elevators and I press the button. 

“With what you pulled at dinner I was thinking maybe you won’t be getting any tonight Christopher” I say while pouting. The elevator dings and we step inside. I don’t even have time to press the button when I am pressed up against the wall with Chris’ mouth against mine. He presses into me and I can feel his bulge against me. He breaks the kiss while still holding on to me with one arm to press the button and turns back to face me.

“Look at you, I didn’t even do anything to you and I have you so worked up mamas. You think I don’t know how much you want me to fill you up? How much you want to bounce on my cock? You’re not fooling me y/n”  Chris says cockily. 

“Just fucking kiss me” I say. Chris grabs the back of my head and crashes his lips on mine. Our tongues fighting for dominance as the elevator dings. 

“You are really on one tonight Chris, is it that Oklahoma air?” I ask him while opening the door to our room. I stop dead in my tracks. “Chris what the fuck is this?” I turn to look at him and his face is bright red. There is a rose petal trail leading up to the bed. He shrugs his shoulders. 

“I don’t know, I just wanted to do something nice for you I guess” he says leading me into the room. 

“Chris, the flight, the hotel and the dinner were nice enough. You know you didn’t have to do all of this, right?” I ask. 

“Y/n I wanted to do it. It’s a thank you for coming all the way here. I really care about you and I just wanted to express that I guess” he says scanning my face for any sign of discomfort. 

“I’m sorry” I sigh. “I’m just a little taken back. I have never had anyone do anything like this for me before” I say making my way to the bed and sitting down kicking my shoes off.  I look up at him searching for any clues in his face. “Chris what is going on? We never do anything like this. Why are you doing all of this?” I ask him, gesturing to the rose petals. He makes his way towards me and gets down on both knees in front of me placing his hands on my thighs. He really does look so handsome in his button up shirt. I almost just want to hold him. He looks so vulnerable.

“Listen, I know we have made it very clear what this relationship is and I was totally fine with it in the beginning but not anymore. Don’t interrupt me I can see you wanting to” he says and we both laugh. “Y/n I care about you so much. So much that it scares me. I have never been a relationship guy and I know that you aren’t looking for a relationship but I am asking you to try. You have made my world so much brighter, even ask Nick and Matt.” he says looking straight into my eyes. 

“Chris, I don't know. I don’t want to ruin what we have” I say nervously fidgeting with his sleeve collar. 

“Come y/n, I know you feel it too. I can tell! You wouldn’t be here if you didn’t, right?” he asks, almost pleading. I reach out to cup his cheek. 

“Chris, I am so scared” I whisper, my eyes welling up with tears. “I do feel it and I have always felt it but I don’t want to mess this up. I don’t want to lose you” I say, holding back tears. 

“You would never lose me. I’m right here y/n” he smiles. “Please, can we try this? Believe me I have fought with myself over this. I don’t want just half of you anymore y/n. I want all of you.” he pleads.

“Chris I’m going to fucking kill you if this doesn’t work out” I say while tears fall down my face. He reaches up and wipes the tears from my face and kisses me on my forehead. 

“You'll always have me baby” he whispers. I put my arms around his neck and kiss him hard. He stands up and pushes me back onto the bed. “You’re my girl, hmm?” he asks, hovering over me with his chain dangling in my face.

“Your girl Chris. Only yours” I say looking up at him. He crashes his lips against mine and I can feel his heart beating out of his chest. The kiss is passionate and frantic like this is the first time we have felt each other. Chris tangles his hands in my hair and pulls, making me moan. 

“Now I hope you know this doesn’t mean I won’t fuck you like the slut you are still.” he grunts. 

“I was hoping that wouldn’t change” I laugh. Chris attaches his lips back to mine and starts rutting his hips against mine. “Wait Chris” I stop him.

“What’s so important baby?” he chuckles.

“I just realized you’ve hardly been touched this whole trip” I pout. “I’m already being a bad girlfriend” I say.

“Watching you get off on my mouth and fingers is enough for me but I would love to pound into that little pussy of yours if you’ll allow me to get back to what I was doing” he chuckles.

“Proceed” I giggle. Chris lifts off of me and begins unbuttoning his shirt and slides his jeans off leaving him in his boxers. He settles in between my legs, slides my dress off and unclasps my bra but keeps my panties on. 

“Such great tits Ma” he attaches his mouth to my nipple sucking and grazing his teeth on my bud while he massages my other breast with his hand. I rock my hips against his clothed cock desperate for some friction. Chris begins kissing down my stomach and I stop him once he reaches my heat. 

“No Chris, it’s your turn” I say moving his head up so he looks at me. “Stand up” I demand. Chris stands up off the bed and I can see the front of his boxers soaked with precum. I get to my knees and begin kissing up and down his length over his boxers. 

“Please” he moans. 

“Please what baby? Remember to use your words” I taunt. 

“Please touch me” he whines. I pull his boxers down and his cock springs out and he hisses at the cool air hitting his bright pink tip. 

“You’re so big baby” I say while stroking his cock. Chris rocks his hips to the rhythm in which I’m moving my hand. I look up and see his eyes screwed shut with his mouth agape. I take his entire length and hum around his cock. 

“Fuck ma” he says while pulling my hair into a ponytail. “Look so pretty with my cock in your mouth” he moans. Chris starts relentlessly fucking my throat while I choke and gag around him. “My good girl,” he hums. I swirl my tongue around his tip and let him use me. He slides his cock out of my mouth but keeps his hand in my hair. I look up at him confused. 

“Open your mouth for me” he husks out. I do what I’m told and open my mouth. Chris leans down and spits in my mouth. I can feel myself soaking through my panties. 

“Fuck” I moan looking up at him. He laughs. 

“You like that mamas?” he cocks his head at me. I nod. “God, you look absolutely wrecked right now.” he chuckles. “My beautiful mess of a girl” he grins. He pulls me up by my hair and bends me over the bed. He rips my thong in half. I turn my head back and gasp. 

“Now did you have to rip my thong?” I snap. He slaps my ass hard making me yelp and jump forward. 

“Quiet” he says. I roll my eyes. He swirls his finger around my entrance and slides them into me and begins pumping them in and out. “You know how much I love to eat your pussy and taste you but I need to fuck you right now y/n. Are you ready for me baby?” he asks me. 

“Yes Chris, always ready for you” I say while rocking back on his fingers. I feel Chris line his tip up with my entrance and I brace myself. No matter how many times we fuck I will never get used to his size. He slides his cock into me slowly bottoming out and I hear him take a deep breath. 

“So tight for me” he whines. He reaches for my hair and pulls my head up off of the bed. He starts pounding into my pussy and reaches his other hand around and puts it around my throat. 

“Fuck Chris” I whimper. I start rocking my hips back and begin to fuck him my back. 

“Yeah baby just like that, you like bouncing on my cock hmm? Going to fucking fill you up” he says through his teeth. I can feel my orgasm building and my movements become more frantic. 

“Chris I’m close” I whine out. I feel Chris slide out of me and I whimper. He flips me on my back and puts my legs over his shoulders and begins pounding into me. 

“Wanna see that pretty face while you cum around my cock” he moans. I feel his tip hitting my cervix and I reach down to rub my clit. “Yes baby, get yourself off. Use my cock baby” he whines. 

“Just like that Chris, just like that, fuuuuuck. I’m going to cum” I moan out. 

“Cum all over me” he whispers in my ear. I feel my start cumming all over him and I sob out. “Going to fill you up baby” Chris says while his movements become more jerky. I feel his hot cum fill my insides while he puts his forehead to me and whimpers. He opens his eyes and smiles at me. “You are everything I have ever dreamed about” he whispers. 

I wake up to the bright sun flowing through the curtains in the hotel room. I don’t even remember falling asleep last night but I do remember Chris cleaning me up. I turn over and see him already looking at me. 

“How long have you been staring at me?” I ask. 

“Just about twenty minutes. Do you know you snore?” he laughs. 

“Fuck off” I mumble. I pick up my phone and it’s 10am. Fuck my flight leaves at 1pm today I need to start packing. “Shit I gotta get up! I don’t want to miss my flight home today” I say, jumping out of the bed frantically looking for my stuff. 

“Why don’t you stay?” he asks, sitting up in bed. 

“Stay? Like stay here?” I give him a strange look. 

“Yes, like stay here" he mocks me. "Nick, Matt and I don’t leave until tomorrow. Let’s have one more night together.” Chris says. 

“Well what about Nick and Matt? And your show? I don’t want to get in the way of anything” I ramble. 

“Considering I woke up to thirty messages from Nick asking if I asked you and three screenshots of places he wants to go to for breakfast I have a feeling they are fine with it” he smiles. “You can come to the show if you want or I can pay for you to get a massage or something” he offers.

“What about the money Chris? Flights are expensi-“ he cuts me off. 

“Don’t even start with me” he shakes his head. 

“I don't have any more clothes,” I say. 

“Nick wants to go shopping,” he argues. “Now please just get back in bed so we can sleep a little longer” he pats the bed. 

“Fine” I say, holding back a smile. I crawl back into bed with him laying my head on his chest. “We should probably change my ticket home” I look up at him. 

“Already did” he yawns and kisses my forehead. 

[flowerpotmage]

Tight Grip, Broken Dam (16)

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You don’t question it anymore, when Miguel appears in your bed at night. He’s not there for sex, no, you’ve never even kissed—though you would be lying if you said you weren’t open to the idea of kissing him. He’s there for comfort. For rest.If only it could stay so simple.

Pair: Miguel O'Hara & GN!Reader

Notes: for chapter: feelings? slight timeskip at start of chapter. someone remembers a sex dream. A/N: if you're still reading, thanks for waiting so patiently!!

Word Count: 2k

Read this chapter on Ao3 here. If you like my work, please consider leaving kudos there as well! You do not need an account to do so.

Gwen stays, and goes. You stay in your own dimension more often, going into the city as Spider and writing for the paper. You find yourself spending even more time with your new friends, Karen, Foggy, and Matt. They don’t say anything about your odd hours or frequent bouts of ‘illness’ when you get a bruise or scrape you can’t easily hide and won’t heal in time for you to make an appearance. You begin to notice that you’re not the only one with odd hours or mysterious injuries—Matt has more and more frequently been appearing with mysterious bruises, stiff movements, and the rare split lip. You’ve caught Karen and Foggy whispering quiet concerned words to him once or twice, hushed voices silenced when they notice you.

Despite these odd occurrences, life continues pleasantly on its way.

“Do you want to go out for breakfast tomorrow,” you whisper quietly one night, raking your fingers through Miguel’s hair and back away from his forehead.

“Tired of my cooking already?” he whispers back, all sleepy half lidded eyes and the corner of his mouth tilted in a smile.

You huff a quiet breath through your nose, amused. “Don’t be dramatic. I just thought you might like to see some of my neighborhood, since I’ve seen some of yours.”

His brows furrow, his mouth opening slightly.

“The headquarters,” you roll your eyes. “Don’t look so concerned. Everyone knows you practically live there.”

He sighs, body relaxing back into the mattress, eyes closing as you continue on with his hair.

“I do.”

“Do what?”

“I have an apartment on the upper floors,” he explains.

You frown slightly. “So you really spend all your time there?”

He smiles again, cracking his eyes open to look at you. The cherry amber red hue of his eyes takes on the rich depth of red velvet cake in the dark, and you smile back.

“What?”

“I’d say I spend plenty of time here too,” he says, and you chuckle. He closes his eyes again. “Breakfast out sounds great.”

“Great,” you repeat, your smile softening.

The next morning when you leave the apartment the air has that liminal just-before-fall and just-after-summer feeling to it. The shade would be just barely too cold if you were any sort of normal human, the sunlight just a bit too warm, and when you look you see that the green leaves on the city trees have just barely started to change.

“We’re a bit behind here,” you say, hands in your pockets to resist the urge to hold Miguel’s hand in your own. You nudge him playfully with your elbow when he looks at you, the furrow of his brow asking you to explain. “Y’know. Our cars still have wheels,” you grin.

Miguel chuffs at that, amused. “Flying cars are overrated. Sure, it creates a whole lot more lanes, but it also creates a whole extra spatial plane to have accidents on–”

You happily listen to him criticize his home dimension, walking along to your favorite nearby spot for breakfast. Happily enough, anyway, given the odd sensation of a far too empty palm.

You struggle to swallow the fluttering down again when you’re sitting across from Miguel at a little table away from the windows, watching him curiously read the menu and then later carefully using the too small silverware that feels just right in your own hands.

You’re out on a rooftop in the late hours of the night, chill air blowing across your suit. It's quiet, the city surprisingly sleepy for one that supposedly never sleeps, and so you’re left with a muddy whirl of thoughts and feelings and no distractions.

You’d be lying if you said you—

“You seem deep in thought.”

The voice pulls your attention away from the hypnotizing whirlpool you’d been staring down into the center of, and back onto dry land. 

“Daredevil,” you greet, turning to look at him over your shoulder. “I didn’t realize I was back in your kitchen.”

“Eh,” he shrugs. “You’re not. It's just over there,” he says and points at the stretch of buildings across the street with his thumb and a little smile. “Noticed you over here and thought I’d say hello, make sure there’s no trouble bringing you this way.” This last part is polite with a hint of concern: he wants to know if he needs to keep an eye out for something suspicious entering his little neighborhood.

You shake your head. “No, just… thinking.”

“Ah,” he nods, and walks closer, all straight lines and friendly air. “Mask, or personal?”

You pause, watching him approach to stand a respectful arm’s length away. You turn away and exhale, crossing your arms loosely, leaning your weight on one leg. “Both.”

Daredevil nods in your periphery, a quiet “Ah” of understanding leaving his mouth. “Someone who knows?”

You nod. “He knows.”

Daredevil pauses, tilts his head to the side in that way he does. “Must be complicated.”

“You have no idea.”

He doesn’t pry, but instead keeps you silent company for the next long moments of night. It's pleasant, really, the quiet company of someone presumably living nearly as strange of a life as yourself.

“I should head home,” you murmur after some time has passed, and he nods.

“You know where to find me, if… well. If you need a hand. Or an ear.” He seems slightly unsure about offering the latter, but there's no doubt in your mind about his commitment to offering the former.

You smile. “Thanks. I’ll swing by again sometime, just in case you need a hand sometime.”

He smiles, gives a short nod, and you swing off into the night.

Peter B. Parker watches Miguel with narrowed eyes across the table. MJ suggested they invite him for dinner again, sans you, for one of the casual nights together they used to have more frequently. But something is off.

Miguel is distracted.

Normally present, somewhat conversational, and at the very least engaged with May, today his mind is somewhere else. He asks MJ to repeat herself not just once but twice, and seems only three-quarters aware of May’s babbling and reaching hands. Peter shares a look with MJ and they separate off into different rooms; her upstairs with the baby, and Peter in the kitchen with Miguel on cleanup.

“So,” he begins, putting away tupperware while Miguel helpfully rinses plates in the sink.

Miguel spares him a glance, eyebrow lifted.

“What’s new?” Peter asks with exaggerated nonchalance.

Miguel’s second glance is bemused. “With what?”

Peter shrugs, crossing his arms and letting his eyes wander around the room lazily. “With, I dunno, whatever.” His eyes snap to Miguel, who is finally focused and slightly suspicious.

“I feel like you are trying to imply something, Peter, and I’m not sure I follow.”

Peter purses his lips slightly, holding back a smile. “You just seem distracted, is all. Something on your mind?”

Miguel shakes his head, turning back to the sink.

Peter sorts through his own thoughts, through the roulette wheel of ways he can needle his friend about his life.

“Someone on your mind?”

Miguel’s shoulders tense, but he continues on with his small helpful task. “Don’t be ridiculous, Peter.”

He’s hit the nail on the head.

“There’s nothing wrong with being happy. With having a life.”

Miguel is silent for just a heartbeat too long. “Whatever you think is going on—”

“Come on, Miguel–”

“Leave it. There’s nothing.”

Peter leaves it. For now.

“How did you meet?” you ask the other Miguel. You know you shouldn’t, but… curiosity is crawling everywhere your mind turns. You try to rationalize it away — you’re just getting to know a friend, you’re curious about your alternate reality self. Everyone else here has gotten to compare lives, so why shouldn’t you?

He smiles, eyes taking on that faraway look of reminiscence. “I was getting my master’s degree. I wasn’t… I wasn’t Spider-Man, yet,” he shrugs, a small smile creeping over his lips. “We had a conversation on campus, in a library. I was looking for a paper referenced in my reading on the genetics of pain tolerance, and y– well, the other you,” he gives an apologetic, rueful smile before continuing: “You were in the last year of your bachelor’s, and totally lost. The student librarian gave you the wrong directions, so I helped you figure out where you really needed to be.”

You smile softly. “How nice of you.”

“Well, not really,” he laughs. “I was trying to be friendly, but I had this… this sarcastic know-it-all thing going on. We didn’t see each other for a year after that, and then suddenly you were a paid intern where I had just gotten a job.”

“Alchemax?”

“Alchemax,” he confirms.

As he tells the story of how he met the other you, the way the two of them slowly became friends and then more at the end of the internship when the dimension-209 version of yourself left for a different job, the way they fell in love, and he became Spider-Man but you figured it out together and still got married, the way he loved the living version of your aunt and….

You listen, and can’t help but picture yourself in this life. One where you finished school and never got bit by that spider, where your aunt never died, where you live a normal life with—

Shit. You might not be able to ignore this for much longer, after all.

“It sounds like you had a good life together,” you offer, when 209 falls quiet.

He nods, smiling sadly. “We did.”

It’s after dinner and you’re watching Miguel clean up the dishes from your seat on the couch. He’s long since relinquished total control of the kitchen and now includes you in the process of cooking, even if the space is a little cramped. But he refuses to budge on cleanup, insisting on doing it on his own.

“Are you sure I can’t–”

“Don’t even think about it,” he says firmly, shooting a stern look over the counter before he loads the dishwasher.

The dishwasher. The–

Whatever noise you let out would embarrass you beyond belief, if it weren’t for the hand now snaking down your front.

“Dishes,” you say, breathless. That’s right—you had been loading the dishwasher before this.

Your face heats, stomach flipping, as the memory of a dream from much too long ago comes rushing back. You swallow, averting your eyes from the kitchen, unable to stop the careening train in your head that’s rebuilding the dream from scratch, the roles reversed.

Miguel, standing in the kitchen. You, this time behind him, wrapping your arms around his waist and letting your hands wander–

“Alright, sheesh,” you finally say. “My apologies, Kitchen Lord.”

You don’t have to look to know that Miguel is rolling his eyes.

As he finishes up you escape down the hall to the bathroom, closing the door behind yourself with a hard click. You don’t know why you’re so… whatever the hell this is. It’s not like you’ve never had other dreams about him, it’s not like you’re completely unaware of the steadily growing feelings you secretly harbor. It’s just… it’s just…

It’s just what?

You flush the toilet, wash your hands. Miguel’s toothbrush—how long has he had a toothbrush here?—sits innocently in the cup beside your own, staring back at you.

It’s just that now it doesn’t feel like harmless attraction to a friend. It’s just that now, when these moments happen they send you fleeing into the bathroom. It’s just that now it’s—

Shit.

You dry your hands on the hand towel, open the door, turn off the light. You stand in the darkness of the hallway, though it really isn’t all that dark with your slightly enhanced vision, heart pounding.

And then Miguel steps into view at the other end of the hall, the light behind him casting a soft glow on the hard angles of his face and the soft curve of one side of his mouth.

He opens his mouth, and you can see the gentle frown in his brow before you cut him off. It comes out before you can stop it, before you can think through what it is you’re asking and what might follow.

“Can we talk about something?”

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[thedragonagelesbian]

say a little prayer for me

@antivan-surana & I were talking about Varric's sacrifice to save/stop Solas, particularly in light of a Hawke who stayed in the Fade, and I had so many feelings about it I just had to throw something together real quick...

Years later, and Varric Tethras still didn’t know how to start this. A lax Andrastian dwarf, only one generation removed from the Stone, praying for the soul of a city elf who had begun to worship the Dalish gods in the years before his passing, and it wasn’t like he had a ton of experience with praying in any religion anyway. Words like faith and conviction weren’t supposed to be for a man like him. Or so he’d been telling himself for a decade at least, but here he was all the same, knelt before his makeshift altar, a red wax candle, twigs of oak and cedar, and a portrait.

“Hey,” he said at last, as conversationally as he could manage. “Sorry it’s been so long since we last talked. You know how it is, this hero business takes up so much time, and since you’re not around to do it… which I don’t mind, by the way. I know you’re resting somewhere.” He sighed into the weight of that ‘somewhere,’ his theology too rusty to conjure up the specifics, but he always pictured a garden. Green and growing and vital. “At long last. But we’re getting close, Harding and I, that is, and maybe once that’s done, I’ll be able to rest too.”

He could enjoy a garden, if it meant seeing Cyrus Hawke again.

He taught himself how to paint just for this. There were plenty of portraits of the Champion out there, of course, but none of them were of Cyrus. They were of a legend, serious and severe, not a man with a toothy smile and eyes like the dawn. Varric had done the best he could to bring Cyrus back from his memories, with some embellishments here and there. Deeper smile lines. Greyer hair. So he might even imagine that they were growing old together.

“Join you, even,” Varric added, touching a hand to the frame and imagining the soft flesh he would’ve once felt beneath it. “But not until I deal with Solas, damnable arrogant asshole.” 

Whatever bite there might’ve been in his voice had worn away to weariness. He had spent so much time lately turning over his old conversations with the man (god). The one with the fisherman and the wine and the stars. The one where Solas had asked him How can you be happy surrendering, knowing it will all end with you? How can you not fight? At the time, Varric had been dismissive, so certain that living well was its own rebellion, but then, at the time, he had had someone to live well with.

Now, maybe he was the arrogant one, thinking he could change anything with the power of a liar’s friendship from a lifetime ago.

“Do you want to hear a story?” he asked suddenly. “Once upon a time, there was an elf, a dashing hero type as stubborn and prideful as they come. The world wasn’t kind to this elf; it weighed on his shoulders, wore him down, made him bitter and angry, but he kept carrying it all his life, because he was so sure he could fix it before it could break him. He never set that weight down. Never smelled the roses or sat in the sun, never slowed down long enough to…” Varric’s throat had clotted shut, and he had to swallow hard, shake his head, muster up his storyteller’s charm again. “And then he met a ravishing dwarf he just couldn’t resist who finally, finally got through that thick skull of his to the big heart underneath and convinced him to stop.”

If he said it with enough bluster, he could almost ignore the tears burning in his eyes.

“That’s the better ending, isn’t it? Better than what we got? I swear to you, Cyrus, I’ll get it right this time.”

Maker, please, he couldn’t pen another tragedy.

[localplaguenurse]

I got a comment and it’s since been deleted by the og poster considering it came in at 1am, is not in my inbox but I still have the email for it. It was about how it might be “too late” to change it but longs would be spouting water and not smoke because European dragons are the ones that breathe fire.

And normally it’d be just whatever right. Kind of annoying because I have my reasons for the smoke thing (it’s excess geo energy and it’s also just a kickass mental image), but they quoted the chapter I assume they left it on. Chapter 31.

Chapter 31 of 35.

The smoke thing started up in chapter 8.

It took 23 chapters of Morax breathing gold geo energy for them to go “hey wait a minute”

[donelywell]

February 29- March 2 2024

The first time Sonic went Super in Road Trip wasn't exactly as stunning to Tails as other au's and stories.

Tails is like maybe 5 here (I'm not actually that organized on the timeline for this au yet, I'm getting there though, things are getting in order.) and he wasn't forced to grow up and be a hero in this au. So he's a bit more childish than canon Tails because he doesn't feel as pressured to mature and grow up fast. Plus, he genuinely thinks Sonic is going to die and this is the last time he see's him, so tears are bound to come down.

Part 1

[dontsteponthatfish]

[ardate]

sniffs. man. i really want this job :(

[seithr]

food.. water.. my ocs in someone elses style

[arionawrites]

1. it’s my 24th birthday today, so my goal of being published by the time i’m 25 is now a one year looming monster, but i never specified what kind of published and am currently looking in various literary magazines that are recommended for writers who have yet to be published, so i’m surprisingly confident that i can make it work? and tbh even if whatever i write isn’t officially published before my 25th birthday, if i have someone in the process of being published then i’ll be happy!! no matter what though, i’m gonna try to be proud of myself for at least giving it my best shot!!

2. i honestly love that my birthday is on the ides of march because the ides of march meme shitposting is only a thing on tumblr but it also being my birthday makes it easier to like. be excited about the ides of march outside of tumblr. like even in person i can be like “it’s my birthday! i’m an ides of march babe (:” and if someone is like oh what’s that? or if they say something along the lines of oh like julius caesar? i can be like yep!! and even if it’s a small thing outside of tumblr it brings me immense enjoyment and amusement being able to bring it up off of tumblr

3. transportation situation has been very rough since june 2023 when i totalled my car, my gap insurance are being assholes and i ended up putting my foot down on the phone with them yesterday which i’m pretty proud of because i am NOT a confrontational person (something i’ve been working on this past year, so seeing some improvement with my ability to hold my ground and not be a pushover yesterday was very cool!!) i was told i’d get a response from them by friday next week no matter what, and if i don’t then friday of next week i will continue to wreak havoc upon them. but my moms car which i’ve been using since my accident broke down yesterday, hopefully it’s fixable but my parents were saying it might be done for, so trying to think of how i’m gonna get to work next week is kind of stressing me out lmao, but for now i’m just gonna focus on enjoying my birthday the best i can because i don’t want to start off being 24 with an overwhelming anxiety for something that won’t be a potential issue until monday. plus i already messaged my boss today to let her know that i’m going to do everything i can to make it work out but just so she’s in the loop and knows of the potential of me not being able to make my morning shifts (one of my coworkers said she’s more than happy to give me a ride for our afternoon shifts which does help relieve some of the stress!) and i told her i’d let her know for sure sunday so that if necessary she can have time to figure out someone to fill in for me in the mornings!

overall: life is weird and i ended being 23 yesterday with a shitty situation but a positive outlook and i am going to enjoy my first day of being 24 no matter what because honestly i fucking earned it. happy friday everyone, i hope it’s a good day for you and me both!