#(being played for hours on end like a tv program)

[agnesandhilda]

very much a gen z moment on my part but finding out that screensavers were originally meant to prevent still images from being burnt onto idle crt monitors was a lightbulb moment for how I read 3d workers island

[strawbeerossi]

Sweet Treat

Pairing: Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid

Description: Penelope gives you aphrodisiac chocolates as a gag gift. Whenever you and Spencer have a movie night, you both don’t realize what sweets you are delving into.

Content/Warnings: Awkward little banter between friends, mutual pining is mentioned, food/eating, aphrodisiacs, unprotected sex

Word Count: 2.4K

Kinktober Day Twenty Three: Aphrodisiacs

Navigation || Kinktober Masterlist || AO3

“Penelope, what the hell is this?” You asked, a laugh leaving your lips as you looked over the container of what looked to be normal chocolate. “Well! I found it online and apparently it’s some of that chocolate that you eat and you just wanna go crazy on the first person you see.” She giggled.

A girls night meant all sorts of things but whenever Penelope pulled out presents, you knew exactly where this was going. You and the girls had met up at her place about an hour ago. After ordering Chinese takeout and having way too much wine, the night had taken a bit of a turn when it came to discussions. Women talk. Sex was a main topic between you and your small friend group.

“So you are giving them to me?! P, I don’t even have a boyfriend.” You laughed. “Who needs a boyfriend whenever you can have fun with anyone in the world. Just keep them.”

And so you did. It was days after the fact whenever you were inviting Spencer over for a marathon of your favorite show. It was going to be fun, you and your best friend from the office watching your favorite show together. He’d offered to pick up food on the way, which he’d stuck with a good Thai place that you both had eaten at numerous times before whenever you got back from a particularly late case.

Spencer was your best friend on the team, the both of you being closer in age compared to the rest of the crew you worked with. Plus you had similar interests when it came to books, movies, among other things. You’d greeted him with a wide smile the minute the door opened. “Hey!” You grinned while moving to hug him. Despite his disdain for hugs or being touched, he’d slowly began to let you in more. He was happy to hug you or have you hold his hand whenever you needed to pull him somewhere else in a crowded room without losing him.

He enjoyed being by your side. Honestly, he was sure he was in love with you because of how caring you were. You listened to his rambles and even asked him further questions. You even laughed at the jokes that were complicated to understand. You were truly a light shining bright on the team. “I hope you have snacks because I didn’t even stop.” Spencer groaned after returning the hug with one arm as his foot kicked the front door shut. “I do. I have a lot in the kitchen.” You assured.

You'd started the new season of your show together and gotten through dinner within a few episodes before Spencer disappeared into the kitchen as you paused the program on tv. “Don’t take too long! I gotta see how this plays out!” You called while leaning back against the couch, pulling the blanket over your body while letting out a soft hum. Spencer had ended up grabbing some chocolate. Which he didn’t read over the label as he grabbed a tab from the container and looked it over. “That’s cute. It’s got little shapes.” He chuckled to himself, breaking one in half as he was moving to take a bite from the rich milk chocolate. It was to die for, so he had to take the other half to you so you could try before you both tore into the bag together.

“Try this. It’s so rich. I actually love it.” He’d commented. You weren’t paying attention to what the chocolate looked like, bringing it up to your nose and smelling it before you were pulling the piece in your mouth. Which it was delicious, your eyebrows raising. “Wow, that really is good.” You laughed, watching as Spencer was sitting down and passing over snacks to you. “We can eat the chocolate later. You know sweet stuff can either send me flying on the walls or I end up feeling bad to do anything.” Fair enough.

It was an hour later when you were on another episode, your body was feeling hot as you shifted uncomfortably on the couch. You wouldn’t like to think that you were attracted to the program, it was a horror series and you were in the middle of a chase scene. So why else were you squirming?

Just as you were going to excuse yourself to take care of the heat in your belly, you noticed Spencer shifting uncomfortably, a pillow resting over his lap. Then you thought about the chocolate, your eyes widening as you were shooting up from the couch and rushing to the kitchen. Spencer watched you, turning slightly on the couch to watch you curiously through the doorway. That’s when you see the box, a soft groan leaving your lips as you lifted up the sex candy while bringing a hand up to rest against your face. ‘

Just great. You knew you should’ve just put it in your room.

“Spencer.” The sound of your voice had him nearly jumping out of his skin as he quickly faced the tv again. “Yeah?” He asked as his hand clutched the pillow harder. Maybe you’d caught him. Even someone who wasn’t a profiler could tell there was something going on, not to mention the growing tension between the both of you.

Mutual pining was normal and you both weren’t exempt from that. Spencer was an awkward rambler but you found it endearing. Just as he found you as equally as endearing even if you were quiet a good majority of the time and relished in his ramblings about whatever was brought up. You both enjoyed each other's presence, the two of you spending time together more often than not.

Those unsaid mutual feelings made this whole situation worse.

You approached the couch again as you slowly sat down beside Spencer again, body leaning back against the couch as you could feel yourself hot, face flushed as you couldn’t sit still to save your life. Spencer had now taken notice, clearing his throat. “I-I uh.. I may need to leave soon. M-mom’s facility called.” A lie but it would be a smooth getaway.

“Oh, yeah. Uh, it might be for the best! I forgot that I have to..” Your eyes glanced around the room. “Reorganize my bookshelf!” Less subtle. “R-right. Uh, This seems weird but can you close your eyes for a minute? I just..” His eyes were glued on the pillow, making you bring your eyes down as well. “O-oh.”

“It’s not because of the show!” He squeaked, face bright red as he was looking back at the screen. “I don’t- I don’t know why but I was looking at you and it just.. I don’t know!” He whined. His awkwardness made it hard for him to admit why there was a pillow on his lap outright, however you had clocked the reasons why.

“You know the chocolate..? Uh, Penelope gave me them the other day as a joke and they are.. They are essentially just sex chocolate.” Your face was hot, chest rising and falling as you were feeling the gush of slick in your panties from the heightened arousal. “Wait. Aphrodisiacs?!” Spencer was looking at you with wide eyes, mouth agape in shock. Well, at least he didn’t feel as bad from getting hard after giving you a few glances. There was a reason behind it.

The both of you stared at one another, faces hot and eyes blown out with lust. “So uh.. How long does this last?” Spencer finally asked, his brain being too clouded over with lust as he stared in your direction. “I-I wouldn’t know.. I never used them.” Your nose crinkled as the both of you couldn’t seem to tear your eyes away from one another. “I, uh, I lied about my reason to leave.” He stated the obvious while you couldn’t help but let a little laugh escape your lips. “I know..” You admitted, slowly pushing yourself to stand. “I um.. I don’t actually have to reorganize my bookshelf either..” You laughed awkwardly while heading over to stand in front of your best friend, hand moving to gently rest over the pillow. “I don’t want you to go.. Not yet. Can you, um, help me out a little bit? I trust you and you are here.” You rambled on as you put your hands together slowly. Spencer was looking at you with wide eyes as he nodded slowly.

“I’ll help.” You were both a bit awkward at first, the male letting you move the pillow before you were straddling his waist, the show in the background continuing to run as your best friend was blushing nervously. “I gotta admit that I’ve only done this one time before..” He spoke while you offered a smile. “It’s alright.” You whispered as you let your head dip down to connect your lips with his. Your bodies were buzzing with electricity as you were deepening the kiss, your hands tangling in his hair while his hands were gripping your hips.

You never thought you’d be in this position, tongue in your closest friend’s mouth while your hips were grinding down against his. You felt a fire inside of you, your body desperate to be bare and touched. As you pulled out of the kiss much to Spencer’s dismay, you were tugging your shirt over your head before tossing it somewhere else in the room. The sight of your breasts in a white bra had Spencer’s Adams apple bobbing as his eyes were trained on the lace that accentuated your skin. “It’s pretty right? One of my favorites.” You comment while watching his eyes stare at your tits with a new sense of hunger in his eyes.

You took it as a great sign as your hand was reaching behind you, unclasping the top before letting it fall somewhere with your shirt. His hands were quickly coming up to cup your breasts before he was just diving right in, wet kisses being pressed against your skin before his lips were wrapping around your nipple, tongue flicking over the nub as your fingers tangled in his hair. “Fuck.” You cursed while his attention was focused on your chest.

Your body was perfect.

As he had gotten enough though, he was pulling back to examine your chest that was covered in a few hickies and your hardened nipples. “You look so pretty.” It wasn’t akin to being called a whore or a slut but you honestly liked it. The way he complimented your body had your cheeks heating up as you were lifting your hips when he had gained enough confidence to work on your pants. He’d tugged down your pants and panties before working on his own pants.

“Eager?” You commented, a little giggle leaving your lips as Spencer looked at you as if you’d grown another head. “Have you seen yourself?! Of course I’m eager!” He defended himself, causing the both of you to share a laugh. “I hate to rush this but-” He was cut off by a groan as your hand reached between you both to give his leaking cock a few tugs. “I know, me too. You can make up for the lack of foreplay later.” You wiggled your eyebrows as you pressed your lips against his once more, your leaking hole sinking down onto his cock.

The both of you had let out moans muffled in one another’s mouths as your hips rocked slowly, getting adjusted to the man’s thick cock. It was always the awkward nerds who had the best surprises.

Your head was falling on his shoulder as he held your hips with a bruising grip. He wasn’t one to have sex often, not being lucky like Derek in the department of women effortlessly throwing themselves at him. He knew that this scenario was one he never imagined happening, your velvety walls clenching tightly around this bare cock while you essentially used him as a human dildo to get yourself off.

He wasn’t complaining in the slightest, watching your face contort in ecstasy as his hips were thrusting upwards to slam into your leaking cunt, a groan falling from his lips as his head tilted back against the sofa. You were whining and moaning with each thrust that he matched with your movements, eventually pushing the one place you needed most. The impact had your hands clutching tightly to his shoulders as you let your mouth fall open with a soft cry.

“Oh my god, fuck, I’m gonna cum.” Your words were slurred, the effects of the aphrodisiacs heightening all of your arousal so you felt like you were going to burst at the seams. Your body was hot, hips surely bruised by Spencer’s rough grip as he slammed into you as well as your legs shaking from their position.

When you did hit your peak, you were tightly grabbing Spencer’s shoulders as your hips slammed down into his lap, ass hitting his thighs at an unsteady rhythm. Spencer however, was quickly flipping you both over, your body sprawled out against your living room couch as he was rolling on top of you.

Taking the opportunity, he wasn’t skipping a beat as his hips slammed into yours, your sensitive cunt contracting around his cock as he was bringing himself to climax. As your moans and whines from overstimulation echoed in the apartment, his own whines of desperation were falling from his lips.

His cock twitched inside of your used pussy, quickly making the effort to pull out of you as he jerked at his leaking cock, a low huff leaving his lips as ropes of cum were now pooling in your stomach, glazing your bare skin as he let out a weak whine. As you lay there covered in his spent, your chest was rising and falling at a rapid pace as you made the effort to catch your breath.

“I think that chocolate needs to be thrown away to avoid incidents like this again,” his voice pulled you out of your post sex haze as you laughed a little. “Are you kidding? I think we need to do this every time we watch our show together.” You teased, making Spencer shake his head with a smile.

“At least hide it for when you have anyone else over. I don’t think I’ll survive if this mix up happens with someone else.”

[endreal]

my spouse took it upon theirself to sell the ps4 and buy a blue ray player and roku since we never actually play games on it and had a buyer on craigslist within literal hours of posting. which means there's been (and continues to be) a lag between the removal of the source of media, and the replacement media sources. and in the meantime what have they committed to doing?

watching broadcast television.

now I've never been a huge TV person - when my younger sibling and I were kids we had a very clearly defined TV sharing schedule, in which I would watch whatever I wanted whenever it was on unless my sibling wanted to watch something else in which case Endreal was shit outta luck. by my mid teens it was just easier not to be interested in TV shows. but this new experiment of my spouse's has shown me three significant things from the last time I was watching broadcast TV with any regularity -

first, there's a lot of shit out there, and like 80% of it appears to be reruns of stuff I ended up never seeing in the 90s and 00s.

second, commercials are worse. like the quality of commercials is worse, and also there are more of them. I remember when a primetime drama on broadcast TV was ~47 minutes accounting for ad breaks and now new stuff seems to be keyed to roughly 42? that's basically 36 seconds of ads for every 2 minutes of programming! is youtube even that bad yet? genuine question - I exclusively use an ad blocker so I have no idea. and on top of that I've witnessed a nefariously sneaky thing - end of episode split screen with the credits running on one half and another ad running on the other half.

third, PBS (we currently live in the US) is solid gold. like yes the programming seems to be all over the place and I have no idea what the rhyme or rhythm of it is but it's so cool that I got to a) learn facts about ospreys from a cartoon guy in a hummingbird suit, b) watch a vegan cooking programme hosted by a woman who was charmingly annoying in a way that seems uniquely achievable only by Italian-Americans, and c) a bipartisan discussion of local current events including a proposed teacher pay bill being discussed by the legislature of the state I live in. and all in the same day!

basically, broadcast TV is weird, idk how much I like it, and in spite of that if you live in the US and have a few bucks to spare please consider supporting your local public broadcasters!

[tsams-and-co-memes]

TSAMS Sunrise Canon Info

Updated - 3/7/25

Sun's likes:

Cats (he owns two)

Dressing up his cats

TF2

Listening to/watching documentaries while he cleans

Red Dead Redemption and Baldur's Gate 3

Cult of the Lamb

Yellow (his favorite color)

Snapple (his favorite drink)

Hamburgers (his favorite food)

Spiderman

Fallout

Electric eels

Retro gaming

Old-timey, black and white cartoons (with Popeye possibly being one of his favorites)

Sun's dislikes:

Gravity Falls

An unnamed flavor of some vegan ice cream

Squids

Insects

Balloon Boy

Hot water

Sea water

Taylor Swift

Garden gnomes

Sports

Salads

Kids (this was implied) <- (he might've made this implication jokingly, but he did end up saying that he does have a soft spot for them)

Eclipse

The creator

Bloodmoon

Roxanne

Minesweeper

Soda/pop

Pumpkins/pumpkin carving/pumpkin guts

Miscellaneous:

Sun tends to get very competitive with gaming

He’s watched the entirety of Dragon Ball Z

He has an obsession with cleaning and stacking the toy barrels/tumble barrels in the daycare. If they’re not adequately cleaned or stacked in a very specific way, he gets upset

He’s bought stilettos and tried on a dress before, while saying that he’s a pretty princess

He used to have a crush on Roxanne

He’s not good at dancing and really only moves the upper half of his body

Sun is pansexual (check for sources). He's not bisexual, so him being pan is slightly more likely (retconned. Sun is more than likely straight, at this point)

Sun has a car and knows how to drive

He isn’t very good at acting

He has a habit of cheating when playing competitive games

It’s been implied numerous times that Sun occasionally enjoys cross dressing

Old Moon has made a statement before, suggesting that Sun has kleptomania

Sun can read bar codes

He apparently knows the history of gravel and can talk about it for hours

He was programmed to know how to drive

His rays are made of plastic

He plays D&D and his character is a warlock

Sun grooms his rays like they’re his hair, and he uses ray polish to do so

Sun knows the history of Windex

Sun knows how to play Yu-Gi-Oh

Cleaning is one of the things that calms him and helps him focus

Sun panics sometimes when he's not doing anything, because he feels like he's not doing enough. Apparently this was triggered by Eclipse's return

Sun can't calm Moon down whenever Moon gets seriously upset, and Sun finds that "kinda scary" (<- exact wording from the therapy video). This means that on some level, Sun is afraid of Moon's anger, and of Moon acting irrationally when he's upset

Sun is the only janitor in the daycare

Sun's had a bird fly in his face before, and according to him, it's more annoying than scary

Sun's not good at bowling

He's eaten glitter glue at one point as a coping mechanism. He may or may not have also eaten sparkles

Sun knows how to grind coffee beans

He turned his basement into a cat den, and his cats have their own TV

Sun drinks (we don't know how often)

If he could be an animal, Sun would be a stingray

Sun doesn't clean the bottom of the ballpit

Sun received an offer to replace Glamrock Freddy as the face of the pizzaplex, but he refused. A lot of the refusal stems from him not wanting to be on a stage in front of so many people

Sun's never watched any classic Disney princess movies that occurred before Beauty and the Beast and Mulan. This would include ones like Snow White, Sleeping Beauty, and Cinderella, although he's had Cinderella play passively in the background before (knowing Earth though, she'll probably make him watch all the original princess movies eventually)

Sun goes through a lot of existential crises

Sun is very good at finding kids who wander from the group whenever he takes everyone somewhere outside the daycare

Sun knows how to set broken bones

Sun has a fear of heights

Sun buys animal shaped soaps

Sun puts down a lot of sticky notes in different places

In the earlier days of the daycare, Sun once tried to play hide and seek with a blind kid. It did not end well

Sun's watched Death Note 4 times through

Sun has a crush on Yor from Spy x Family (his type seems to be people that could beat him up, but this could change)

Sun has a punching bag

The emotional part of Sun's mind that's positive looks like a sunflower field, while the negative part looks like a dart forest

Sun takes his teeth out like dentures to wash them, instead of brushing them normally

[teeny-tiny-revenge]

It's home cinema manufacturing time! 🏴‍☠️ Gonna put my pirate show on my shelf! (I'm doing an Arts and Crafts Project and I'm making it everyone's problem.)

After seeing how much they cost, I abandoned the idea of getting a Blu-ray writer for now. For the time being, good old DVDs is what it's going to be! My TV is old and not very big, so DVD resolution is gonna be fine.

It's been ages since I last burned a DVD. For the full experience, I'm gonna create nice menus and pretty sleeves for the boxes. Graphic design is my passion! Um.

Well. First needed to find a program to do stuff with. I'm a Linux guy, so I'm using Devede. (Which is free, btw. In case someone else wants to do a low cost spot of putting pirate show on the shelf.)

DVDs fit a maximum of 120 minutes of video. So, four episodes, I thought. But after a quick attempt, the program refused to do more than three (maybe because of the menu also taking up space, and four episodes cutting pretty close to the 120 min mark?). Anyway, three episodes per disc it is. It's a pretty nice runtime for watching the entire disc, IMO. An hour and a half, and then you can return to reality to realise you should probably eat something, or go to bed because it's midnight.

OFMD with its current two seasons has a total of eighteen episodes, which is divisible by three. You get the following setup:

Disc 1: Pilot, A Damned Man, The Gentleman Pirate - That's pretty good, Stede's introduction to piracy all on one disc!

Disc 2: Discomfort in a Married State, The Best Revenge is Dressing Well, The Art of Fuckery - All bangers. Great to watch together, our boys meet and shenanigans happen!

Disc 3: This is Happening, We Gull Way Back, Act of Grace - Many romantic moments, lots of great scenes, shit hits the fan at the end there. Alright!

Disc 4: Wherever you go, there you are, Impossible Birds, Red Flags - ... Pain and angst! What have I done!?! The disc of horrors. Gotta make sure to have tissues at hand when I watch this. But hey, it also has messy bun Ed! Small mercies.

Disc 5: The Innkeeper, Fun and Games, The Curse of the Seafaring Life. - Another disc with all winners. I love all these episodes so much! (You can watch this disc to recover from the trauma of the previous one!) But seriously, this one slaps.

Disc 6: Calypso's Birthday, Man on Fire, Mermen - Great combination again. Season finale! Love and excitement!

... Honestly, except for the psychological damage of putting all the most painful episodes together, this is coming out pretty cool. Says a lot about how good the show is. I actually really love all the episodes (yes even the painful angsty episodes of massive depression). Thinking about this little project really reminded me how much I love this entire show.

So, we got a tracklist, now menus, then we can burn this stuff!

I did the menu backgrounds in GIMP. Realised I have a big folder full of screenshots I took myself, screenshots someone else took and posted on Tumblr, official promo pics for the show, and I have no idea anymore where most of them are from, because I named the files according to what's on them. Which is useful for when you want to find pics (Need a picture of cursed suit Stede? I have files named that, easy peasy!), but not so great if you wanted to give credit to whoever took a given pic you used. (It's probably @sherlockig or @ofmd-ann or @blakbonnet. Please feel credited, your beautiful screens and gifs brighten my day, and some of them are now probably part of my DVD menus. Shrunk down and cropped, but, yeah.)

I originally wanted to structure my menus as having the title of an episode, then some pics from it, then the next episode, then pics from that, and so forth, but I couldn't convince the program to give me the necessary padding between the menu items, so I ended up just putting the episode images below the menu. Still like it.

Anyway, DVD menus can also play sound! Behold a crappy video of my beautiful creation (provided entirely for sound):

It plays Gnossienne N°5!

More crappy pics of my other disc menus:

Gonna make them some nice sleeves next. Some day. Gotta make sure they all work properly first. So. I'll be on my sofa, watching my DVDs. With menus! (Edit: here are!)

[wayfayrr]

Alright, I wonder how long an ask can be. U asked for it!😝

Also, if u were curious, since I’ve only played Botw and most but not all of totk, 98% of the time my yandere self-aware ideas will be of Wild/Tears.

How does Wild/Tears feel about the fairies? Like, is he embarrassed that reader has to watch that? Does he worry what they think? Or is he just like “eh, I can’t control their upgrade animations, sorry”. Then how does he feel when reader thinks it’s kinda cute/funny? I don’t want to traumatize the poor guy, but I must admit watching the level four animation is slightly funny bc I feel so bad for him. And in level three when he covers his face is cute.

What about when he just has to sit there for 10 hrs his time? Listen, I wanna upgrade the darn champion’s tunic but the stupid upgrades require 2 of each farmable dragon Zelda item. And I couldn’t find her for so long it was annoying. Ik she follows a certain path but even so u have to just keep following the path hoping u eventually run into her. So I just decided to farm an item, then sit there for 10 minutes r time until she’s farmable again. So how does Tears feel? Am I wasting his time? Is he bored? If he had an animation for it would he fall asleep? Would he glare at me for making him sit there for 10 hours? Plus, ima be honest. For those 10 minutes of me just waiting, I’ll usually scroll on my phone. I’m not gonna stare at the tv for 10 minutes, sorry lol. So is he mad that I’m not paying attention to him and stuff?

What about if I laugh at him? Alright, I don’t do it That much lol, just if I make an embarrassing mistake w him and he looks a little funny. Would he be embarrassed? Mad? ….?? I think he’s cuuute! It’s fiiine, right…?😭

Thinking about my one ask where I used him for science, totally not using bombs on him for any other reason! Anyway, so I have to admit, his overheating animation I like. I’m all for angst/whump w characters. Whenever I read AO3, 98% of the stories r angst/whump for Wild/Tears. Sicfic? Yes please! Nightmares? Yes please! Psychological torture? Sign me up! There was this one fic someone wrote about Wild being hit by a curse that trapped him in his memory next time he unlocked one, so he had to watch it over and over and over. The rest of the chain had to save him. Tho, if it makes u feel any better, I only like happy endings, no open ended ones, no sad ones, or character deaths. Nope. Fairy tale where they all lived happily ever after please and thank u lol. So anyway, I got sidetracked lol. My question was, would he be mad if I just put the game on the clothes menu when he’s overheating so he doesn’t lose any hearts over it, just watching him do it for a minute or two?

Sometimes I need to wear like one clothing item per outfit so I can use like 3 different abilities. For example, maybe bandana to climb faster, gloom shirt for an extra heartbreak, and snow pants bc it’s freezing? And sometimes I’ll complain that he looks ugly, well, not him, but the outfit, and say that I wish I could make him look cuter but I need these abilities atm. Does he hate the outfits like I do? Does he care more about function? Does he hate that I care so much?

How does he feel not being able to talk? Like literally every other character can talk except him. And he can’t do anything by himself. Everything he does is either a programmed animation or an action by my controller. I bet he has a lot he wants to say but can’t. Does he ever worry that if he were to get out and see me, what if he couldn’t talk to me??

🐰

yeah it's always a lot easier to think about the links you know better for stuff like this ngl, so I don't blame you for sticking to them. plus wild and tears are just fun too right? :3c

so starting from the top -

I think the fairies are a touchy subject for him, if you like the cutscenes then he can set his discomfort about being picked up and kissed somewhat - don't get me wrong he doesn't enjoy it but for your happiness he'll do it as many times as you make him (although, unless he finds a way to override the controls then it's not really like he has a choice in it) he'll make notes about how you like him acting in certain ways though - I mean if you like seeing him as a blushy mess covering his face in the game then you'll like it more when he's doing it in person right? Please don't make him recreate the level four one though.

To be honest, there's nothing that you could do to him that he could ever consider a waste of time. would he prefer you to be actively engaged? sure. Is he bothered if you're still there but just waiting for a bit for the dragon to recharge? Not really, yeah he'd prefer to be doing more, but at the same time it gives him a chance to observe and to get more of a grasp of how the game works while it's on and running compared to when he's robbed of his body and is left a being floating in a desolate void of numbers and machine code. He can relax and still have feeling and eyes on you and your eyes on him every now and then even though it's not as often as he'd like. as for the time? I think once he became aware he stopped running on hyrules time, so it's only ten minutes for him too. Ten minutes that granted feel longer than that cause of the scenery, but still only ten minutes. if it were a situation where he was still in a hyrule then he'd be further detached from anyone else. (my thoughts are if the game is left in standby on the switch then it's all still loaded and the links have free reign but if it's closed and you're playing another switch game then it tosses them into the abyss)

laughing at him for being cute is all good but please don't make fun of him ;-; he's only doing what you make him do after all!

I need to write more whump and hurt/comfort for tears actually, thanks for the reminder Well, he's not getting hurt by it -soooo he's kinda a bit deluded into thinking that it's another show of love for him. You simply love all the sounds that he's making <3 (and I don't blame you, his whimpers are actually just so adorable?????) You care so much that you're not letting him get hurt for your happiness!!!!

I think he takes it as a compliment that you care so much about how his outfits look, he wants to look his best for you too!!! If he could he'd find a way to stack the different bonuses so that you could treat him like a proper dress up doll without having to worry about the environment and how it impacts him :c he doesn't care what outfit he 'wears' cause it's not like he's actually wearing and interacting with it. it's glued to him like a second skin so whether you're keeping him shirtless or putting him in the thickest shirt possible there's no difference to him just don't mod him so that he's no longer himself please

The fact that there's a chance he wouldn't be able to communicate with you is something that he worries about alot, not even just not having a voice. He'd be fine with being mute if he can write or sign to you, hell he could probably delude himself into being fine that he couldn't do that if he could move freely and hold you. what scares him the most is the idea that he'd be like a puppet cut, that if he gets out that without the code acting as his strings he falls limp like a puppet cut loose. that's what's horrifying to him. anything else he could learn to live with, but that potential keeps him from making any rash movements where the cost could outweigh the benefits. I like to think that out of desperation, (this goes for sky in the fic too) they stole another characters voicebank from another game :) one that speaks your native tongue preferably, but at the very least one that shares a language you speak

[grimsonandclover]

Good Luck

This is basically the beginning of The Atlantic City Story verbatum, with you as Jane, and some differences + personal touches. Because of this, you don't need to have seen ACS to understand what's going on (in my opinion). Just a little thing I wanted to write to warm up my ACS writing muscle since I plan to write for Arthur more in the future.

SFW

2.3k words

If you haven't seen it, Arthur has a gambling addiction, and you participate in gambling at a casino. Reader (Jane) grows up with an implied neglectful and sometimes abusive mother, and there are flashbacks to this childhood. Reader is in a strained marriage. I picture you being around Arthur's age and married young instead of Jane's age in the movie.

It felt like you’d caught him; finding him out there, sitting in the quiet rain on a lone bench, the streets abnormally still for the city. Maybe it was like tunnel vision, all that you could hear or see was him, whoever he was.

The rain made dashes in the air like stitches, straight diagonal lines cutting through to the asphalt, illuminated by the single streetlight by the fence. The grass behind it looked like it went on forever, like an ocean you could swim through if you wanted. You’d never seen the sky so pitch black, the light pollution of the city sucking the light from the stars like parasites. The streetlight was the only star in the sky, strong and bright and sturdy. There under the starlight, just a little to its left, was the one bench. One star, one bench. It was curious. Even more so that on that one bench was him, that man from the roulette table. Him alone, under the star and under the rain, staring off into the ocean and lightless night.

It was a rash decision, one you couldn’t help but make. There was always something wrong with you and you’re well aware of that– self awareness must count for something– but knowing that you have a tendency to fuck things up didn’t stop you from fucking things up again.

When you were a kid you’d run away regularly, packing your little school bag with the things your small mind deemed the most important (a change of clothes, a juice box, your favorite toy, some sidewalk chalk) and sneaking out the back door of your childhood home. It was easy when all you had to do was wait for your mother to drink her favorite juice and fall asleep by the TV, oblivious to the program and to your footsteps creaking the floorboards. When the screen door was shut and it was just you and the cicadas, your little feet ran, carried you as far as they could take you.

Down the block and through the grass, running and running until your legs gave out. Then you’d choose a tree to sit under, catching your breath under the summer sun and pull out the juice box you’d packed. Drinking it slow, letting it sit on your tongue cause you knew that you wouldn’t be able to get another one out here on your own. In the meantime, you’d watch ants crawl beneath blades of grass, earthworms crawl around the gargantuan stones in their paths, birds land on the branches above you. You could hear those cicadas sing and the birds caw and the worms slither in the dirt, and all you could think of is “I wonder if she’s noticed yet.”

Now you were running from your home. Not the one with the box TV and the drunken mother on the floral sofa, where your presence and lack-thereof were felt the same, but the one you’d grown to call yours. It was modest and it was owned, and it was all thanks to your husband Michael. You’d never be able to afford it without him.

When he’d be gone, for work or for play, you found yourself revisiting those times under the trees. Wondering how long you’d really be there until a neighbor found you or a patrolling cop who thought it strange to see you there, alone. Had it been minutes? Hours? Surely not days, never a full one. You were never that lucky. Even now. The day would end and you’d look up from your thoughts and find Michael home, and eventually he’d end up on the couch asleep, the TV flashing frames on the wall.

You don’t really enjoy gambling, if you’re being honest, so you’re not quite sure what led you to Atlantic City. Maybe it was the lights, maybe it was because it was so far away from that couch, The hotel bed was admittedly nicer than your own. The bathroom was also nicer, much larger than the one back home, the mirror spanning wide across the wall above the double sink. Drying your hair from the rain, you mind stayed on the man on the bench. How his eyes weren’t quite at the roulette table, how his hands fidgeted with the chips. They were strong, his hands, the skin smooth and uncalloused or scarred. His fingers long and nervous, always moving against something or each other. You’d watched his hands almost the whole time you were there. You kept picturing those hands as you got ready for bed. How they worried, how they gave up when he didn’t win and left for the rain.

The bed’s so much emptier without someone on the other side. Michael, is he asleep on the couch again? Has he noticed? The tears fell freely, there was no one there to hide them from tonight. In the quiet, the never ending quiet, you almost missed the sound of his breathing behind you. Almost. You noticed he wasn’t there, you always did.

It’s hard to sleep with a mind like yours, but you managed.

There’s a nice view from your window, a perfect one of both the sea and the pier. Just to the corner peaked the ferris wheel, big and silent and unmoving. You’d smoke on the balcony if you had a pack with you. There at your bedside your phone finally buzzed, and from here you could see the contact name pop up. Maybe you should check if they sell any at the gas station a block down.

They do.

It’s quickly stuffed into your coat pocket, leaving straight from the gas station to the casino, your phone still back in your room. There’s something appealing to you in that loud, depressing trap. The ringing machines, the clicking sounds of chips on tables and balls spinning to determine someone's fate, the shuffling of cards and nervous laughter of the patrons. This could be their shot, the temporarily embarrassed millionaires. One more time, pull the level one more time. Play the cards one more time. Toss the ball one more time.

What really led you there was him, the man with the hands and no name. Something told you that he would be there again today.

He is. You spot him at the same roulette table, in the same hat and shirt but dry now. The jacket he wore last night is gone, though. Last night you watched, so today you decided to play. Observing silently at the table was weird, anyway, so you set down two twenties. Surely losing that won’t hurt as bad. Pink chips totaling forty dollars slide to your end, the head of the table, and you find your own fingers flipping them with worry. So is he. He’s watching the wheel with this almost acceptance that he won’t win, yet he’s clearly still here, still trying. How long has he been there? He puts down his number, then the other participants, and you just choose a random one. You’ve never done this before, having no clue if this is a game of chance or skill but you can only assume the former. You bet forty-four. He bet twenty-four.

The wheels spins and the ball is tossed. Round and round and round forever. The casino feels so loud, it’s like you can hear every anxious prayer to whatever higher being will have mercy on them today. There’s a machine a ways away that rings loud, someone shouts at another one about it being rigged. The dealer is reminding people no more bets, not until it lands. He takes a breath, hitched and ready to release when it’s allowed, but he doesn’t. He holds it, never taking his eyes off the ball. You never take your eyes off him.

“Six. Black and even.”

It takes him a moment to let it go. Someone else won, another woman at the table, and the dealer hands her the chips. You do it all again, and when you place your bet on twenty-six, he does too.

The ring of the ball falling into place sounds like a dim bell. Everything else goes quiet when you hear it, and this time you let your eyes hopefully fall to where it spins and stops.

“Twenty-six. Black and even.”

Someone at the table stands and leaves and you find a smile growing on your lips. How unexpected. You were ready to lose again, you were alright with it. It felt good. He finally looks away from the table, letting another breath go. Looking up, catching your eye and dropping it, you see the hint of a smile on his. When he speaks you’re surprised.

“Thank you.”

You’ve moved to stand next to him, next to the wheel, as the dealer hands you your chips. “Me?”

“Yeah, you had the twenty-six.”

You don’t really think about it when you move to the newly empty seat next to him, removing your coat and hanging it on the back of it. “I guess I’m lucky.”

Again. This time, several numbers: Thirty-six, three, twenty-nine, eleven. He places them on the same spots you do, like you’re his good luck. The bets are set, the wheel spins again, and your eyes fall back to his hands. They’re closer now, and maybe you’re confident enough to think they worry a little less as they still on the table.

He properly looks at you when it lands, the corner of his mouth pulling up. His hands grip the edge of the table slightly before letting go, tapping the green fabric on it proudly. He’s got a pretty smile when he lets it. Maybe you are lucky.

“Thirty-six. Red and even.”

When you’d come home it was always a mess. Whether it was a neighbor or a cop, your mother would open the front door with her unbrushed hair and bitten lips and stained nightgown and scold you right there in front of them. “Fuck, kid. How many times I gotta tell you to stop running off? I can’t sleep five minutes without you trying to kill yourself and worrying the neighbors. I got work, you know.”

She worked long shifts at the bank and then the diner, trying to make enough for the two of you. She was always tired by the time she got home. You always had to walk to and from school, pack your own lunches, learn how to do the laundry yourself. She always said she just needed a minute to relax, give mommy a minute to relax and she’ll be right there, but that minute would stretch until she had to get ready for her shift the next morning.

“My feet and back are damn tired and I don’t have time to follow you around this house, watching if you’re gonna go off and get hit by a car. I hope you have a kid like yourself one day, you’ll finally understand how hard I’ve got it. Get to your room.”

You’d lie on your belly on the floor, tracing patterns into the old carpet of your bedroom. There wasn’t much to do. Toys were expensive. You had a few, sure, but not the ones in the commercials that would play. Hot Wheels with customizable racetracks and big Barbie Dream Houses and shiny little action figures with movable arms and legs. You had Legos that the kid next door stopped playing with, and a hand stitched doll your mother made, your teddy bear from infancy, and a bike that’s had a flat tire since last spring.

There was a small bookshelf by the door with books you either finished reading or didn’t care for, some stolen from your mother’s room that confused you and spoke about things you’ve never heard of. Behind the dresser that you’d move, there were crayon drawings on the yellowed walls you’d sometimes add to before moving the dresser back. When you didn’t want to do that, it was back to lying on your stomach and tracing on the carpet.

Sometimes you’d hear kids next door playing, yelling at the other to pass the ball or to watch their cool trick. You’d look out your window but they’d always be just out of view. It was like a radio show with no dial to switch stations. Then you’d smell the cooking coming from downstairs and hear the knock at your bedroom door, and your mother would pass you your plate. She’d sit there on the floor in front of the bedroom door with hers, and there you’d eat in silence.

The next day, your mother would have forgotten about it, and you’d already start wondering about how far you could get next time.

He doesn’t play Poker, says there’ll always be someone there smarter than him. “I’m not smart but I’m smart enough to know I’m not gonna be the smartest.”

Hearing that, put that way, makes you laugh. You guess he has a point. It’s not about skill. You don’t need skill to have luck, you suppose. You either have luck or you don’t, and you’ve thought until now that you’ve had none. You like how he puts it: “With roulette it’s all chance. It’s just you and the universe.”

The chips are turned to cash at the counter. $900 for him, $950 for you. Considering your starting bet was forty, you feel pretty good. Good enough to stop. He chooses to stop today, too. It’s like he walks lighter down the hall with the cash in his pocket. He offers to take you to a cheap diner he knows, like a celebration of your win. Taking his good luck out to dinner, and he doesn’t even know your name.

He almost floats across the floor. You think about him just the other night, under the rain, under the single stranded star. He’s a different man with money in his pocket, that much you can tell of the stranger. Your phone is still on the nightstand back in your room, but you know by now that Michael’s stopped calling. Stopped trying. You wonder when he noticed.

He tells you his name is Arthur.

[sunohws]

irresistible - choi soobin

pairing: top!biker!soobin x m!reader

synopsis: After receiving a phone call from the Hospital, you find out your ex-boyfriend had gotten into a minor accident. You also find out that is impossible to resist him.

genre: smut, minors dni.. please stay away. its kind of angsty idk

word count: 3.1k

a/n: made this while listening to maze in the mirror and happily ever after. my ears were busting from that eargasm. I was waiting for skipping stones to play but unfortunately it never came... also this is super SUPER long.

The workday was coming to an end. You found yourself fantasizing about your night. You in your cozy pajamas with some fried chicken and the new episode of his favorite tv show. A great way to end your work week. Your favorite way in fact.

You were just about done with your paperwork. Just ironing out the final details. So close to going home for the night. Your phone began to ring. It was an unknown number, so you ignored it. You continued the work until the same number rang again. You thought 'Maybe they have the wrong number and will figure it out soon.'  However, the phone rang again.

You sigh in frustration and annoyance as you pick up your phone to answer this troublesome caller.

"Hello?" You says with a huff.

"Is this Kim... Y/N?" The voice on the phone speaks. You were just about to hang up. You aren't really interested in whatever program they want to sign you up on.

Regardless he continues the conversation, "Yes this is he. Who is this?" You ask.

"Hi I'm Yoon Dayoung. I'm from Asan Medical Care. You are the emergency contact for Choi Soobin."

"Soobin?! What happened!?" You panic. You shoot out of your chair in shock. Your heart racing at the sudden movement and the anticipation of the verdict.

"Mr. Choi was in a motorcycle accident. From what we can see, he is alright. He has some minor bruises and some wounds. His in the bed now being treated. We need someone to pick him up. He should be ready to be released in a few hours or so."

"O-ok! I'm on my way now!" You jolt out of your chair. Grabbing your jacket on the way out. You squeeze out a jumbled sentence to your manager about an emergency at the hospital on your way out.

While on the road, your adrenaline cooled, and anger raised. You began cursing out Soobin. You were angry for his recklessness. You were angry that you were still the emergency contact. But most of all you were angry that Soobin scared him. You thought you'd lost him. Just thinking that brought tears to your eyes. Yes, you'd been broken up for a few months now. But there was still love in your heart for the man.

When you made it to the hospital, you checked in with the same receptionist who had called prior. She told you where to find him. And off you went. Your mind had simmered when you saw Soobin.

He was laying in the hospital bed with a few bandages wrapped around his body. One around his right wrist. Another across his chest. A few band aids on his head and arms. You had analyzed every part of Soobin that was hurt.

When you walked all the way in Soobin was asleep, most likely due to the amount of medication they had given him. So, you sat down in a chair near him and waited for the raven-haired man to awaken.

A few hours had past, the sun set and the night cooled. Soobin decided to open his eyes.

"Y-Y/N?" His voiced crooked.

"Oh. You're up. That's good. I'll go get the doctor." You respond back.

"Wait-what are you doing here?"

"Apparently I'm still your emergency contact?" You say before he walks out the door. You left Soobin there to sit in embarrassment.

While he waits for You to return. He sits up with a groan and a curse. Soobin swivels his head around to get a look at the time.

9:45 it reads. He wonders how long he's been out for. All he remembers is going out for a ride around 4 or 5ish then another motorcycle swerving into his lane. After that, everything went black. He hopes the other racer is okay if they did get hurt.

His bones feel swore but nothing too crazy to slow him down. Soon enough You come back with the doctor. However, you don't stay, you leave. Soobin assumes you're going to sign him out and wait in the lounge.

After the checkup, the doctor writes Soobin's prescription to pick up and clear him to go home.

Soobin walks out into the lounge with his damage helmet in hand, reminding you why they are here in the first place.

"I can find a way home from here. Thanks for coming." Soobin tells you. He can't bother to look into your eyes due to the embarrassment.

"No need. I'm dropping you off home." You insist. And Soobin doesn't fight it. He follows you out into the parking lot. You both get in the car. Not another word announced.

The drive was awkward and silent. The air, tight and thick. Soobin contemplated making small talk. But you and him knew that y'all were past that. The drive continued for about a half hour before they got to Soobin's place.

"Thanks for the ride." Soobin said as he gathered his things and exited the car. You gave him a head nod and a pressed grin in response.

When Soobin was gone you let out a huge sigh. You felt like you'd been holding in this breath for what seemed like forever. Your car now smelt like Soobin. A smell you had missed. The faint smell of cologne. His cologne. As you were basking in the smell, a gentle knock on your car window snapped you back to his senses.

It was Soobin, with his same ivory grin. A sparkle in his eyes that only You knew what it meant.

"Yes?" You say as you rolled down your window. "Come inside for something to eat or a drink. It's the least I can do." Soobin implored.

"Nah. I'm okay. Go inside. Get some rest." You turned down his offer.

"Come on Y/N. I know you just got off of work. I know you're hungry. Who knows how long you've been waiting on me. Come inside." Soobin appealed. It was something about his tone or how well he knew you. His voice hooked you in and you couldn't say no anymore. Not that you put up much a fight anyway.

"Alright fine. I guess I am a bit hungry." You agreed. But you'd try to remind himself to remain composed. Don't let things get crazy. Just a meal. Just a meal. He repeats.

Before You knew it you had been swept up in Soobin's charms.

Soobin's place looks the same as it did a few months ago when You had last been there. Dark and masculine. Clean as well. You sat at the dining table for two near the kitchen.

"I have left overs from my mom. It's really good." Soobin says as he gets the food from the refrigerator.

"Oh great. I missed your mom's cooking." You recalled.

"You missed it?" Soobin teases, and you can hear the grin in his voice. He then heats up the food in the microwave.

"Well yeah! My mom is in Japan! Of course, I miss home cooked meals from a mother figure!" You corrected. Your head drops, eyes looking in your lap.

"Oh okay." Soobin taunted.

"It's the truth." You whined.

"I believe you. Now eat." Soobin hushed the blond. He placed the warmed food on the table. He went back to get utensils and such.

The two began to eat and talk. Picking up as if they never stopped talking. They laughed and recalled fond memories. Dinner was over and you began to clean up. It was like your body went into auto pilot mode. Just like before.

"Oh you still remember where the plates go." Soobin noticed.

"Shut up." You say as you continue to wash the dishes. Soobin had been making remarks like that all evening. He did it on purpose. It's a game to him you think to yourself.

"You know, I've missed you..." Soobin confesses. All of the sudden, the room gets thicker. And you can feel Soobin's eyes burning on your skin. His voice was raw.

You can't find anything to reply back with, so you continue with the dishes. Your heart began to quicken. Your mind wondered. You thought about you and Soobin's more intimate moments. The little touches, kisses, dates. All the things you love about Soobin. All the things you hated about the man.

Like a snake Soobin slivers his way back to you. He takes your hands to wrap around his waist. His body is warm against you. And you can feel yourself fall into the embrace.

"Soobin..." You let out a breathy plea. Soobin plants a soft kiss on the back of your neck which sent unwanted flurries through your now sensitive body.

"I miss you Y/N." Soobin confesses again. This time he twirls you around so that their faces are close in proximity. Your wet hands fall onto Soobin's white tank top. It had faint red stains, predictably Soobin's blood. You stared at the bandage going across the man's chest.

This was the very reason the two broke up in the first place. Soobin's motorcycle. You couldn't handle the stress of the motorcycle, especially after the major accident Soobin had a few months back. Early in their relationship. You worried every day since then. The stress became too much for you so you left.

Soobin can see the gears turning in the your eyes as you look at his scars. He sees the worry build in your eyes, so he takes your wrist to plant a soft kiss, before he runs your hand over the wound to let him know that he was okay.

You looked at him with so much softness, that Soobin could actually give up the motorcycle for good.

It was so easy for you to fall back into Soobin's old tactics. His old charm that wins you over even when he doesn't want to admit it. Staring into Soobin's eyes it's like nothing has changed. You want to go back but you just can't. Today just proved his point.

However, the longer you stay in Soobin's presents the more his will chips away. And Soobin knows this, so he grips harder onto your waist and he doesn't break his stare on you.

"Soobin." You repeat.

"Y/N, please." He testified.

"Look what happened today. Do you not understand how terrified I was when I got the call? Thank goodness it was a minor accident. But what happens if the next time it's not. Like before. What if you-" Your voice breaks off as your throat get clogged. Your eyes began to redden as tears began to form.

"Baby. You don't have to worry about that stuff. I'm standing right here, aren't I? You can't break me." Soobin cups your face.

"Can't you just give it up?" You respond.

"Y/N it's my passion."

"A dangerous one!" You shout. Tears prickled at his eyes threatening to fall.

"Baby." Soobin cautioned.

"Stop calling me that." You throw Soobin's hands off your face and walk away.

You don't make it far before Soobin grabs your wrist. He pulls you in. And without a word he kisses you. His lips swallow Yours. His lips are soft and welcoming. His grip on your neck deepens as he becomes more passionate. It had been multiple months since he felt your lips against his.

And you didn't break the kiss instead, you endured it. Taking hands to grab at Soobin's biceps. He would get turned on just by looking at his muscles. The pure strength on this man was crazy.

The kiss disregarded any discourse they had before. A new argument was being fought. But with their tongues. Soobin's hands traveled around your body. Making you feel just, how badly you were deprived of psychical touch. It had been so long since you were touched by a man. Your body yearned for more.

The kiss finally breaks but it's not for long, Soobin swirls your back into the counter in the moments that they parted. He goes straight for your neck. Soobin plants sloppy thick kisses down your neck. Making you grab onto the countertops for support. Enjoying every second of this.

Fuck the breakup. Fuck the motorcycle. Just fuck me. You thought.

Soobin dragged soft lips along your neck. Kissing, tugging, biting. Everything lips, teeth, and tongue could do to a person. Your moans vibrated on Soobin's lips and your body pulled him closer.

"My room?" Soobin says words hot on your skin.

"Your room." you reply. There was not a moment for you to turn back, even if you wanted because Soobin dragged you across the house to his dark bedroom. Throwing you on the bed quickly. Your bodies connected instantly, Soobin taking his needy hands to trail vigorously upon your body. Grabbing anything in its path.

Soobin goes back in for a kiss. He's messy and sloppy as his tongue explores corners of your mouth. Your tongue is also grazing every inch of Soobin's mouth. With such passion it would be impossible to separate you two. They stopped every so often for air.

"W-wait." You try to catch your breath.

"What's wrong?"

"We should stop. You're injured." You sit up, he rearranges his clothing. Wiping his lips off as well.

All Soobin can do is laugh.

"What's funny?!" You look serious but Soobin laughs harder. "Hey!" You repeat.

The laugh stopped as if a switch was turned. Soobin's eyes darken, and his dominance spewed over you, as he leans over. "Do you really think a few scratches is going to stop me?" His voice is low, so low that it sends waves to your core.

"Uh...?" you respond meekly.

"Exactly." Soobin grin. He waits no time ripping your shirt off. Planting his soft lips onto the bare skin. Continuing his work through the rest of your body. And you didn't protest anymore. You wonder why you even questioned Soobin. There are many nights and scenarios where he knows Soobin's true stamina. You can only hope there's mercy for you tonight.

As passion burns, clothing gets removed and fingers start entering new territories. Causing many yelps from you. Two fingers crossed and swirled inside of you. Warming you up for what's to come. Based on how tight you were, Soobin could just tell he wasn't with anyone after him. That pleased him in many ones than just one. Soobin thrusted deeply one last time before abruptly yanked his fingers out. Causing your back to arch under him. Spiting an inaudible curse. Soobin just smirked and gave you a quick hard kiss.

Impatiently Soobin took his cock and lined it up with your hole, then invited himself into you with no mercy. Moaning into the tightness. Tightness that griped him so well. You let out a deep moan, your eyes shut and you throw your head into the bed. Soobin finding his breath after the first thrust. The entering is always the best feeling. Anything after it is just trying to chase that same feeling. Soobin dragged his cock practically out of you before shoving it back in. To chase that same feeling. He was going to fuck you hard. Make you feel it in your soul, make you not want to ever leave again.

Soobin continued with a pattern he knew drove you crazy. Hearing his name come out of your mouth in dirty moans made this even better. This was makeup sex at its finest. A sick part of him wanted to keep breaking up with you so he could enjoy this type of sex more often. However, that was just a horny thought and he no real plans of letting you go. He was his and only his. You would have to go back to Japan for Soobin to leave him alone but then again that's not far enough.

You wanted to pass out due to the pleasure being too much. It overwhelmed him. He hasn't had sex since the last time Soobin touched him. You couldn't be bothered to entertain a new person after Soobin. You had just been getting by with TV and work.

You were almost angry with how sensitive you were. Your cock was hard. Really hard. His body betrayed him instantly. The slight touch from Soobin and the war was over. Soobin won.

Not to say you didn't miss Soobin, you really did. Your relationship didn't have many flaws, only the motorcycle issue. They got along just right and when they didn't, Soobin knew just how to make thing better.

Just like now, Soobin knew all the spots to hit to drive the man under him crazy. Slamming into you like the car that ran into him.

"I'm close!" You moaned.

"Fuck- me too." Soobin bit his lip as he picks up the speed. Everything suddenly got louder and faster. The moans, the strokes, and their hearts. Soobin pumped harder and you squished their bodies closer. With one finally deep thrust they both let out the longest cry with white filling their eyes. The climax roughly coursed through them. Leaving you twitching under Soobin and Soobin groaning.

You too were still as their bodies registered what just happened. The room was still. The air still hot but filled with heavy breaths.

"That was..." Soobin says finally.

"Wow." You finish the sentence. You look at each other and smile like love struck idiots. Like routine, Soobin springs into action with aftercare.

"No, I'll do it this time. You're injured remember?" You stop him.

"I'm fine. Let me-" Soobin tries to protest.

"Sit." You demand and Soobin abides. He watches as You goes to the bathroom to get warm rags to clean up. He admired his work, the redness on the back side of You from his insane thrusts to the purplish-red love marks all over the man. You can feel Soobin watching you, so you blush a bit.

You continue cleaning you both. You grab one of Soobin's shirts to wear to bed and a pair of shorts for Soobin. When all is done you lay in bed with Soobin.

"Phew. That was a lot. I'm tired." You say as you snuggle closer to Soobin.

"I could've done it."

"But I did."

"I know and you did a great job." Soobin kisses the top of your head.

"Soobin...I missed you too." You finally say back. you kiss Soobin's neck.

"Round two?" Soobin says with that look in his eyes. It was supposed to be sweet!

"NO! I just cleaned us up! Go to bed." You turn the other way.

"I'll do it this time." Soobin grabs on to you, dragging his hands all over your body. He kisses your neck and whispers tempting things. You giggle and fight back. You knew you were going to lose but it was worth a shot.

For a man who just was in the hospital he had a lot of energy. In the end, He ended up cleaning you up after many, many rounds.

YALL THIS STAR DIVIDER IS SO CUTE IM IN LOVW WITH IT.. USNG IT FOR EVERYTHING ATP. also isnt my new pfp cute :33

[sugoi-writes]

Vox x GN! Reader - Condensation is Bad for Computers

NO ONE ASKED, I DID THIS ANYWAY. Inspired by minkdelovely, as we had been going back and forth on one-word prompts to get back into the groove of writing. Hope you guys don't mind a little bit of Vox as a treat to hold you over <3

Wifey and I started a Hazbin-rewatch, so I'm SURE I will be getting the itch the crank out a LOT of Al content! Keep your eyes on the horizon!

Heads Up: mentions of work stress/aggravation, Reader is Velvette's secretary, low performers usually get popped, some fingering (didn't specify bits or bobbles), some doggy style, voyeurism and public sex if you use your imagination, Vox doesn't know how fashion works, and... Y E A H... There's cum. There's cum everywhere. HAVE FUN!

Your exchange started cordial; business as usual. Cold eyes and expressions putting out feelers for weakness, and barriers to hide their own. Most of your acquaintance had been like this: business-like, transactional... flatline. There was always an even, unwavering beginning and end. It frustrated Vox to no end. You thought nothing of it, as dense as you were. 

One day, there was a change: a glitch in your programmed agenda. A hand to your shoulder, followed by a concerned expression. Vox had seen the look on your face before. Your head hung neutral, almost lowered. Your eyes held a deep, haggard stare. Your brows, usually neat and high, hung low on your face, revealing and creating deeper shadows on your face. Your jaw was tight. 

Simple put: you were exhausted. That was the delicate way to put it. 

Velvette had you working like a pack mule, unable to sit or "unplug" for even a few moments. Deadlines mounted, growing harsher and more deranged by the hour. You knew what happened to people with poor performances...

There was no firing, rather an erasure. And as meager as it was, you'd like to keep on "living". 

Vox's expression hardened, before his patience snapped. He was on top of you before you could express protest or invitation. Hands found your wrists as your mouth was enveloped by his. The heat of his touch brought a much-needed life to your aching, broken body. You felt like a part of you had been woken from a deep, groggy sleep; a desire was being fulfilled. 

Something that laid so dormant for Vox, yet so patient, finally came out to play. He sighed when you kissed him back.  

You don't remember much of what happened in between. You don't recall your clothing becoming a muddled pile on the floor, or his hands working you through your first climax. You struggled to remember his sweet nothings that were hissed into your temple, his hips claiming your tired body tenderly. He had taken you to a ledge, and you willingly plunged off of it, diving face first into seeking your pleasure. A selfish notion… how very uncharacteristic of Velvette’s hardworking employee! 

When you seemed to regain some of your thoughts, you felt the cool expanse of glass pressing your cheek. Your hands lightly squeaked as you tried pushing your head up... before you were slammed back down. You whined as the TV Star frisked your hair, his other hand bruising your hip. He couldn't help the breathless moan that slipped out as he continued to piston into you. 

Many thoughts swam about your mind as your body recoiled and bounced against the window. 

Would your face be on tabloids across town, your drool and alluring gaze burned into everyone's memory? Would you be able to explain to your supervisor why your appearance became even more rumpled, old tear tracks clinging to your cheeks? Would you be able to play off your ruined voice, cracked and grating like nails on a chalkboard? Oh, how Vox made you scream when you came for the– third… time? By this point, you didn't mind losing count. 

Despite this all, you could only focus clearly on one thing: the fog... The fog that your hot breath created against the glass. The opacity would increase every time his cock plunged in, only to dissipate when he withdrew. The fog almost felt more lewd than the noises that filled the air. The lecherous slapping of skin on skin couldn't compare to embarrassing warmth and condensation that settled on the window. 

You were close. So very close to being fulfilled again. After this grueling month of work-related agony, you were practically owed this. You reach behind yourself and grab onto Vox's tie, yanking him in for a kiss. Initially a little surprised, Vox huffed into your bold move, creating his own in the next breath. He grabbed your right leg, raising and holding it aloft as he lost his rhythm. Your kiss was the missing component to his release, and it was approaching MUCH too quickly. 

You were wracked with the feeling of satisfaction, body locking up during your climax. You greedily sucked on Vox's tongue, swallowing his wanton, heated moans. Your aching, gooey core dribbled with his new release, unable to keep everything inside. That sight may have been as lewd as the condensation, your face unable to keep the heat that rose to your face at bay.

When the two of you parted, Vox released your leg, only to loop his slender arm around your waist. He held you securely as you both slid to the floor, clumsy and spent from your little romp. 

Vox leaned his head against his free arm, panting as he looked down to you and your filth-covered form. Velvette didn't have an eye for this look... but the milky sheen of his release looked especially fitting on your flushed skin. A contrast, a juxtaposition… something so sheer on something so soft and opaque… He would have to find a way to make this a more permanent addition to your wardrobe.

"Fuck me..." he ground out, laughing breathlessly as he came back to his senses. His poor processor fans were whirring loudly, trying to adapt to his temperature change. However, no amount of fans or coolant could relieve the burn in his chest, or the flush that settled over his face. You smile back at him, eyes glassy as you watch him pant and heave above you. 

"I just did. Unless... you need me to help you out again, sir...?" Vox shook his head, chuckling at your tired attempt at flirtation. He didn’t let you linger on the floor for long, bringing you up into his arms like a bride on her honeymoon. 

"I'd rather do what you need for tonight. What can I do to help Velvette's hardworking, doting secretary?"

[noobiestnoober]

Fallout & Feelings (Sequel to "Matrimony Mayhem") (Carlos X Reader)

What started as a joke—a fake marriage between you and Carlos to boost team morale—has spiraled wildly out of control. Now HQ thinks it’s real, HR’s scheduling couple’s counseling, and the team is planning a surprise reception. But amidst the chaos, one problem grows harder to ignore: you’re starting to like being married to Carlos a little too much. And worse? He might feel the same.

Fake vows. Real feelings. Team-wide delusion. Welcome to the fallout.

Welcome to the Aftermath

There was no escaping it now. By the time Monday rolled around, the HQ announcement board had a digital banner that read: CONGRATS TO THE NEWLYWEDS! 🎉 right above a reminder about proper biohazard disposal. No one questioned it anymore. It had become part of the landscape—right next to the “All-Clear” drill notifications and mission success tallies.

The breakroom TV kept glitching into a slideshow of wedding-themed stock photos with your and Carlos’s faces lazily Photoshopped onto them. You tried to shut it off. Twice. It rebooted itself both times. Someone—likely Jill—had also programmed it to play “Can’t Help Falling in Love” every time the coffee machine was used, meaning an emotional Elvis serenade every fifteen minutes.

You could handle the Elvis soundtrack. You could even tolerate Leon’s theatrical interpretation of slow dancing with an invisible bouquet every time you entered the room. But when Rebecca compiled a “training retreat” proposal that suspiciously resembled a honeymoon itinerary—complete with “couple trust-building exercises” and a scenic lake cabin? That’s when it got real.

You could ignore the monogrammed towel set. You could tolerate HR’s weekly “Marital Wellness” check-ins—even when they made you and Carlos fill out compatibility quizzes that sounded suspiciously like dating app surveys. But the part that was really getting out of hand?

You were starting to like it. All of it. Carlos was… good at being fake married. Too good.

He saved the last dumpling for you without asking. He carried your gear even when you didn’t need help. He casually touched the small of your back like it was second nature. He called you “wife” with that relaxed drawl that made it sound less like a joke and more like a fact. And worst of all? He smiled like he meant it when he called you mi esposa.

What had started as a laugh was turning into… something else. The line between fake and real was blurring faster than you could process. Somewhere between the shared meals, the inside jokes, and the casual touches, your heart stopped remembering where the act ended and the truth began.

The Turning Point

It happened after a particularly rough mission. Long hours. A close call. You were scraped up, exhausted, and coming down from the adrenaline high with a crash. Blood on your sleeve, dirt under your nails, and a dull ringing in your ears from the last explosion.

Carlos sat next to you on the infirmary cot. Wordlessly, he reached for your hand and held it. Not for the bit. Not for the team. Just for you. His hand was warm and solid. Familiar. Steady.

“You scared me today,” he murmured, eyes fixed on the floor.

Your throat tightened. “Wasn’t planning on dying, if that helps.”

“Still,” he said again, softer this time. “I don’t think I could handle losing you. Even as a fake wife.”

You turned toward him slowly. There was something in his eyes—something raw and real. The fake wedding ring on your finger felt heavier than it should’ve, like it suddenly meant more than plastic and poor decisions.

“Carlos… do you ever wish it wasn’t a joke?”

He went still. The kind of still that usually meant danger. Except this time, the only thing in danger was your heart. Instead of deflecting, instead of making it weird, he simply lifted your hand to his lips and kissed your knuckles.

“All the time.”

Your pulse skipped a beat. You didn’t say anything else. You didn’t need to. You just looked at him—and he looked right back, like the rest of the world had gone quiet.

Operation: Team Chaos

The team was spiraling. Spectacularly. Jill had set up a Pinterest board labeled “Reception Vibes.” It had categories. Subfolders. Color palettes. She was serious.

Leon was aggressively researching “Best Man speeches for emotionally stunted sharpshooters,” and had started leaving half-written cue cards in random places. One ended with: “...and if anyone objects to this union, speak now or shut up forever, because Carlos will shoot you.”

Chris looked five minutes away from a full bureaucratic collapse. His desk was buried in a mountain of paperwork he’d printed out to “fix this mess.” Every time someone asked what he was doing, he just muttered about protocol breaches and chain-of-command violations while shaking an HR handbook like it was gospel.

Rebecca? Oh, she’d escalated. She drafted an HR-approved marital health form titled “Love on the Front Lines: A Wellness Journey” and began scheduling sessions like a wedding planner on a mission. Her latest suggestion was a “Communication & Conflict Resolution” workshop. Mandatory.

There was talk—actual, serious talk—of a surprise wedding reception at the base cafeteria. Jill had a playlist. Leon was practicing a toast. Someone even requested cake options from the mess hall staff. You didn’t know whether to scream, laugh, or cry.

And amid the chaos, you caught yourself smiling. Because this wasn’t just about the prank anymore. Somewhere in the whirlwind of well-meaning lunacy, the team had started rooting for you. For real.

Carlos caught you on your way to the shooting range, eyebrows raised.

“So, uh… do we fake-renew our vows or actually do it this time?”

You smiled despite yourself. “Let’s survive one more mission first.”

He nodded. “Deal. But next fruit basket? I’m picking the contents. No more weird kiwi jam.”

“Agreed. And I get veto power on towel embroidery fonts.”

He grinned, and it felt different now. Real.

[practically-an-x-man]

gardener, songbird and aesthetics for the ask game?

Thank you so much!!

"What type of writer are you?" Ask Game

Gardener : Quick, on the top of your head, give me a first sentence for a (genre,) novel.

You didn't give me a genre for this one, but my go-to is probably horror, so...

Ohio, 1963 The television shuts off after midnight. The final program of the evening ends, and the screen falls into static as if to finally usher its insomnia viewers to bed. The sound was atrocious - the horrible screech of a poorly-tuned radio - and yet I would find myself staring at the screen for minutes longer, willing another picture to appear though I knew the late-night operators had surely punched out for the night themselves. Tonight, though. Tonight the static begins to bend.

I know it says the first sentence, but I feel like horror really lends itself to just a bit more setup in order to really be effective. This idea plays with the historical context of WTVN in Columbus, the first station to broadcast 24-hour television, while also adding a sort of I Saw The TV Glow-style horror to it.

Song bird : If you could pick three songs to capture the feel of your WIP, what would they be and why?

Hm... I've got a lot of WIPs, but I'm going to go with the new Vivienne/Wojchek piece I've been tinkering with!

Empire Now - Hozier: I feel like this song just captures the vibe of a 19th-century schooner crossing the ocean, the hardships of being at sea, but in the end seeing the sun rise over the ocean after the pain of the night has passed. I view this more in line with the main plot of LVOTD, since the sun rising has some deeper meaning in that case, but it definitely works with this piece (sailing through a nest of sirens, barely holding onto your wits enough to steer the ship) as well.

Soulless Creatures - AURORA: This song to me represents the sirens themselves. On one level, the overall sound of the song really aligns with how I hear the siren-song in my head, with this sort of ethereal, echoic quality, so listening to this song captures the feeling of the Demeter sailing through the nest of sirens. The lyrics, on the other hand, more reflect Vivienne's overall charact - love and loss both intertwined, and still with that ethereal, supernatural quality to it.

That Unwanted Animal - The Amazing Devil: This song tells of a monstrous creature attempting to creep its way into the sanctity of the lead characters' home, which... yeah, that's pretty much this whole fic. Not to mention, I love the line "and you rip my ribcage open and devour what's truly yours" for Vivienne, since I've mentioned the concept of it claiming Wojchek's heart and eating it after he dies as a final act of love.

Aesthetics : Look for three images which best showcase the overall aesthetic for your WIP

Still sticking with this same WIP for Vivienne, so:

(I'm not great at finding cool pics like these, I'm forever impressed by people who can make cool moodboards)

[cupcakewebkinz]

oh my god every time i open tumblr and see one of your fics my day becomes so much better like genuinely- idk wtf kind of dark magic u used for that one fic that Vee is a lil paranoid bean but she's terribly relatable and it felt like a personal attack (in a good way) lol. You are such an amazing writer to be able to convey such emotion to the reader holly molly- Many thanks for existing in this community 🙏

here's more cat hcs to express my gratitude once again...

Vee absolutely HATES whenever someone touches her tail. It's the thing that helps her keep her balance and without it she would be even more of a clumsy mess than she already is so she has been programmed to be extra protective of it for safety reasons. That being said, there have been a few incidents where a lil kid would manage to sneak up and pull her tail, and the only reason there hasn't been a "bite of '87: Vee edition" yet is because her handler has always been near and would pick up that murderous angry robot before something bad happened. After some headpats and love from her handler she would calm down ofc- I imagine her only trusting Shelly and Veronica to touch her tail freely. If someone steps on her tail accidentally though, she's going to be really pissed at the culprit for several hours even if she knows they didn't mean to- girlie has a really hard time letting go and moving on (but she's trying her best to get out of this mindset!!!) I feel like Shannon did such mistake once and let's just say Vee would angrily side eye her for the rest of the day, until Shelly talked her out of it lol. If Shelly ever stepped on her tail by accident though her dumbass would be like: "wife hates me?!... wife doesnt love me anymore?!" and be a sad and pathetic soggy mess until shelly showers her with hugs and kisses to apologise mmhmhgmhm

kinda unrelated, but i just imagined Vee chasing her own tail for fun whenever no-one is looking while writing this so imma include it here.

Here's a Shelly hc too cuz i love her. She seems like the type of gal that has cuteness aggression. If you let her hold a baby animal like let's say a baby chick for example, she would absolutely want to squeeze it out of love. Of course, she never harms anything because she knows her own strength. Vee? She would absolutely turn her into a tin can if she could. Whenever she sees her wife doing something she deems cute (which can be something as mundane as literally Vee looking in her way) it makes her want to grab her stupid tv face bite a chunk out of it. Im a firm believer that her love language is physical touch.

-cat vee anon

AGHGH HAI AGAIN CAT VEE ANONNN!!! *waves aggressively*

Honestly so many people seem to be so murdered emotionally from that fic man I am so sorry, I honestly used a bit of my own childhood experiences to help convey that feeling of anxiety because my dad USED TO BE, very strict and terrifying. I put that in caps as he got therapy and is so much better with my siblings- but it still helped translate that feeling of fucking up and getting in massive trouble for doing anything wrong into words. Honestly Shanon promising Vee to protect her at the end like that was inspired greatly by my own mom, who's one of my largest inspirations to be a writer. The more you know! (Also very glad you enjoyed it, and thank you so much for existing with me here! I love playing the game and messing with these dorks, and I love the community I've been forming around that love and passion for the game too. I genuinely hope I can keep making people happy here!! ♡)

Vee absolutely would be pissed at people stepping on her tail, especially her close friends. I'd love to imagine Glisten teasing her with it tho, like "Ohhhh Vee I'mma grab it, I'mma grab your tail~" and he teases her so much she kicks his knees in for it. Sorry I'm a sucker for Vee being Glisten's best friend, but seriously, he would tease the hell out of her for it. She doesn't bite him because she knows he'll beat her in a fight, but if she could she absolutely would rip him to shreds for it. Though he probably wouldn't do it often, even he knows Vee has limits and won't push them lol

Veronica would absolutely shove Vee into her jacket when she's pissed though, just like "no you're not plotting murder, that's my job you lil twerp" and hold her hostage in her coat until she calms down. She'd absolutely be hit at and have a big baby throwing a temper tantrum at first, but she'd calm down very quickly in her favorite spot. This especially was the case after Delilah told her to stop doing that- Veronica would never stop, it's what keeps Vee manageable during her hissy fits and anger filled tantrums, but she'd have to do it backstage so nobody notices. Vee secretly adores it, and eventually becomes pretty open about this being really comforting to her once Shanon snaps her out of her "I do everything wrong and I need to stop doing anything" phase.

Oh yeah definitely, if Shelly ever accidentally steps on thee most sensitive and important spot on her body, she's a sobbing disaster screaming that her wife hates her and that her life is ruined. She's a massive drama queen, I'm sure people could tell, she's a TV host after all, but Shelly would honestly be caught off guard by just HOW dramatic she is about this. She'd act like it's the end of the world, like nothing matters anymore, while Shelly's like "honey it was a mistake, calm down, you're okay". They obviously make up again afterwards but the most dramatic Vee will ever be is when she thinks everything is messed up, even when... Everything is completely fine and she just needs to calm down a bit. She calms down the fastest in snuggles, which leads to them usually being found cuddled on the couch together and Shelly reading a book to Vee after this mistake is made. Or they're watching a show on Shanon's no longer wall mounted tv. They definitely are cuddling until Vee calms though.

She would absolutely chase her tail during zoomies though, and she'd proudly show it off whenever she catches it. How does it get in her mouth? Delilah only knows! Nobody understands that robot... Not even Vee herself. I love imagining her looking like a proud puppy at it too like a puppy that just learned how to play fetch, she's such an idiot I LOVE HER-

Shelly absolutely would be like that, and absolutely would have 100% self control over said urges. She handles fragile fossils often, so she's gonna have a ton of practice with self control, so she's very gentle and sweet. Though the dinosaur urges still linger, she wants to give everything tight, loving hugs and bite them to leave a mark that they're hers, but she doesn't. Not unless you ask her too, she will bite if you want. Highly not recommended, she could easily bite off a finger. Her favorite things to do instead are hugging, scritching and cuddling with Vee instead, kisses are definitely a great choice too but she prefers maximum touch. However, I feel like Vee wouldn't know what her love language was so she'd be trying everything, and that's why Shelly often brings gifts for Vee actually. Gifts are like prizes, prizes remind Vee of happier days, Vee gets really happy. In the end, Vee likes giving gifts often as her way to show Shelly she cares and loves her, while Shelly gives Vee hugs, kisses and cuddles because that's how she likes sharing her love. That and, let's be honest, Vee is addicted to clinging to that silly fossil.

No injuries on Vee in the Caretaker Shanon au are from Shelly going feral unless stated otherwise 😂

As always, thanks for letting me ramble a bit Cat Vee Anon! Hope you're doing amazing and enjoying the Easter Event! Sorry this took a bit for me to reply to my sister and I were farming, we're desperate for Bassie. Send help. 💔

[oldguardleatherdog]

We Don't Have Nixon To Kick Around Anymore

50 years on from The Resignation, a glancing elegy

On the night of August 8, 1974, as I sat on the big couch in our livingroom with one eye on the TV and the other on the cast on my left arm (another fractured wrist, this time from being last kid standing in a game of Bombardment at 6th grade recess - dodgeball with three balls - I made a heroic dive, felt the sproinggg! as I landed hard, and I knew another trip to Dr. MacFarland was in my near future), I saw the familiar jowls of President Nixon fill the screen on the Zenith, knowing that what Gerald Ford would soon call "our long national nightmare" was about to come to its once unlikely, suddenly imminent end.

For most of 1973 and all of 1974, the Watergate scandal had consumed the nation, crowding out the summer daytime programming (what? no Jeopardy or Concentration or that wild guy from Canada with the 'fro and the stache on a lame game called The Wizard of Odds named Alex Trebek? We had to go outside and play?), making unlikely household names of obscurocrats like John Dean and G. Gordon Liddy and Jeb Stuart Magruder, spawning what we would call memes today featuring Tricky Dick caricatures with endless snorts on Hollywood Squares and Laugh-In, and getting 12-year-old factory town kids engaged with politics in surprising ways (for two years, our Social Studies classes were a hotbed of partisan debate, and I lost ten cents betting on McGovern over Nixon in '72).

We all knew the end was close - the local headlines in giant type screaming "Nixon Resignation is Near" were belaboring the obvious by then - and as the President droned on, I listened for the cue to look at the screen...

"Therefore," - my family and I swiveled our heads in unison - "I shall resign the Presidency effective at noon tomorrow. Vice President Ford will be sworn in as President at that hour in this office."

And just like that, it was over.

The next day, I watched as the Nixons took their final walk across the White House lawn towards the helicopter that would carry them away from Washington and into history, Julie and Tricia and their husbands bearing them up, then the long-suffering Pat who God only knows how she held it together at that scorching, searing moment -

and last, the old crook himself, turning to face the Fords and the gathered staff and America and the world one last time, extending both arms out and up "stiff as a board" as the NBC News anchor remarked, his hands making the peace sign (peace! Jesus Christ, I learned in that instant where irony ended and satire began) in the posture we knew so well, and then just like that, they were gone.

And here we are, half a century hence, my wrist long since healed, wondering how the hell I got old, casting my baleful eye across our miserable mise-en-scène, trying to figure out just where we lost the thread and took the turn that got us back into the same damn jam squared - hell, cubed - and yearning for such a clear-cut, uncomplicated, and decisive ending to our long national nightmare once again.

[Excerpt from the "Checkers Speech", UVA's Miller Center via Vimeo]

[kaiser-s-bitch]

lyric prompt drabble || Itoshi Sae (angst; sfw)

"And if you’re under him, you ain’t gettin‘ over him" - Dua Lipa (New Rules)

—————

It was around midnight when the knock on your front door startled you, interrupting your nightly binge watching session of whatever show you had recently gotten obsessed with.

There was only one person you could think of that would A) knock on your door instead of ringing the doorbell and B) show up at your apartment unannounced at this hour: your ex, Itoshi Sae.

Despite your relationship officially ending about a month ago, he would still drop by every now and then, not even giving you an explanation or anything the like.

He was just there, letting himself in as soon as you would open the door. He would sit down on the couch and make himself at home, resting his feet on the small table next to it as he glanced over at you with his usual, seemingly bored expression. You knew him well enough to not ask too many questions, being fully aware that they would more likely than not go unanswered anyway.

These nights usually all played out the same way.

It was gnawing away at you: the repeated process of waking up next to him, thinking for a blissful, sleep-dazed moment that everything was okay, until reality clawed its way back into your consciousness and you were brutally reminded of the fact that you weren’t actually with him anymore.

It was as though neither of you really wanted to accept that fact and face reality.

~~~

Sighing, you sat down next to him, picking up the bag of chips that you had opened only minutes prior, earning a sharp "Tsk." from the athlete.

"You know those aren’t good for you." he simply stated, matter-of-factly. You rolled your eyes, defiantly taking a handful of potato chips and munching on them out of spite. "And? Neither are you, but at least the chips make me happy."

"Hah." Sae let out an unamused laugh, seemingly unfazed by your snappy comment as he kept his eyes trained on the TV, before grabbing the remote to change the program.

"What do you think you’re doing? I’m watching that." "Not anymore." A slight smirk tugged at the corners of his lips as he reclined and manspread on the couch with the TV remote still in hand. You groaned in frustration, but didn’t move from your spot, deeming it below you to fight him for your remote. You knew better.

At least this time you did.

You were not going to play the usual kind of game with him anymore, one where he purposely pissed you off one way or another, and that often started with him asking something along the lines of "What’re you gonna do about it?".

The change in his expression was barely noticeable, but you had all his moods down to the t by now. He was mildly disappointed in the lack of reaction from you.

"Is that all, kitten?", he inquired, his head tilted to the side while he looked at you with those unfairly hypnotic eyes of his.

A shudder came over you at the sound of that all-too-familiar pet name.

"Sae", you called, your tone and expression uncharacteristically serious as you straightened your back and faced him. "You can’t do this anymore. We can’t."

His interest was piqued, he turned to the side to face you, resting his head in his palm. "Are you that upset about me interrupting your little show?", he mocked, raising his brows in disbelief.

"You know that’s not what I meant. You can’t come here anymore." It took every ounce of strength you had left to utter those words, keeping eye contact with him during made it even harder. The moment of silence ensuing was almost unbearable.

"What." Sae deadpanned, it didn’t sound like a question, more like an odd kind of statement.

You sighed, deciding to elaborate on your words despite knowing he knew what you were referring to just as well as you did. "We broke up over a month ago. We broke up because you weren’t willing to change, and I wasn’t willing to just accept that. I am also not willing to have you keep using me for your convenience, nor as your occasional booty call."

He scoffed in response, his eyes narrowing at you. He was never one to actually argue, he was one to say his piece and be done with it.

But in this case, Itoshi Sae no longer even had a piece to say.

He had known that it would only be a matter of time until you would kick him out for good, but that didn’t stop the pro player from overstaying his welcome over and over again for the duration of the past month.

"I know", Sae muttered, quiet but still audible. He got up from your couch and sauntered over to the front door, his posture visibly tense. You got up as well, accompanying him to the door to see him out.

When he turned to look at you, something inside of you squirmed and cried in pain. It was the same part of you that had forced you to go along with his whims up until now, letting him use you as he pleases only so you wouldn’t have to let him go.

You had never wanted to let him go, but there was no longer any room for arguments, the time of discussions and pleas from your side had ended long ago. You loved him, and you knew he loved you as well, but you also knew it wasn’t enough. And now, you were finally done pretending it was.

"Thank you" was the last thing you managed to get out, barely more than a broken whisper, as you opened the door, a cool night breeze sneaking past you. Sae only nodded in response before averting his gaze, stepping out into the night.

This time, you closed and locked the door behind him.

—————

a/n: I rarely ever write actual angst, or I at least give it a happy ending, but I guess not this time lMAO

[the-burd-lord]

Playing around with Alastor’s design a little bit. He would still wear most of the same outfit he wore back then, don't fix what's not broken, but with an added suit jacket that's a bit too big for him. I need to make a bit of to at some point, but after his break up he draws on a pencil mustache to add on to his emphasis of having a new appearance while still staying in his time.

A post depression mustache if you will.

As for some of his creepy aspects I'm cutting out the voodoo elements of his character, and instead using the uncanny and analog horror elements instead (I am a simple creature).

I need to actually remake the color pallets for him and old Vox, but essentially they both start off as black and white or with grey like colors, and gain new ones after they split up. Vox becomes more saturated and Alastor becomes sepiatone, as while it's more colorful it's still is reminiscent of the past.

Now time for some of the silly rivalry bits:

I’d image they would have casual debates on the radio and tv that would soon devolve into insults and eventually nothing but 30/50s slang and Creole French that would last for hours.

I need to finish writing this bit, but basically Charlie sees it as a good idea to go on Vox’s talk show to promote the hotel and herself. There’s some lil rivalry moments between Vox and Al, but ultimately Vox doesn’t fully let his grudges get in the way of hosting a good show.

Even though they mutually broke up they still each regret ending the relationship, and as such covey their loneliness in their respective mediums. Vox making sad, gay movies and being so worn out after that when he watches them he doesn’t even know what he made.

And Alastor having a late night audio story about a turtle and a hare going on adventures. There are times where he’ll just start describing crushing regret and isolation, and he’ll realize that he may have gone a bit far and try to steer it towards more of a happy ending with Vox listening in on all of it.

Something something relationship meme with a sketch I’ll probably never finish. Also surprising, but also not that surprising, to me that in "Stayed Gone" they didn't go with the obvious joke on what to call his late night talk show.

The grrls r fighting!! But for real this time.

Been playing with the idea of Vox turning into pure energy when he's overly stressed, or just becoming a weird robot creature as form he can take as an overlord. It's probably going to result in a lot of sketches where I 𝘵𝘰𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 won't use Videodrome as inspiration (lie).

At some point I need to get a good animation program and just start making a bunch of animatics or animations cause I have so many song inspirations for these two.

Specifically one that I want to make a whole animation for is “(They Long to Be) Close to You.” Basically it’s just going to be them fighting interspersed with moments of them waltzing together. I think you can probably parse out the metaphors and connections I'm going for here.

Also me and a friend were talking about song inspirations and after I continually listened, watched, and worked (at least for me) on Hadestown we just replaced Hades with Vox in some of the songs.

🚨SPOILERS FOR HADESTOWN🚨

One stanza that I need to make an animatic for is in Chant Reprise, specifically 2:33-3:18 with the “I conduct the electric city” line.

This is going to become a bit of promotion for the show cause I love it so much. Probably my favorite musical ever! Also highly recommend listening to this version of "Chant," cause there’s a verse for Persephone and Eurydice that provide some cool reflections that reflect the original “Chant” in their verses.

There’s no direct references to any of the other characters, although you can add your own interpretations.

On that note here’s another song that reflects them. “How Long?” mainly with the “your pity won’t fit in my bed” lines, and when Hades and Persephone are actually singing to each other turning it into being about their relationship instead of the fates of Orpheus and Eurydice.

And a lil teaser for how they make up:

Will make another post about them. I have so many sketches WWHYYYYYYYYYYY!!!!!!!!!!!! I CAN’T ESCAPE EITHER VERSION!!!!

[devilsminionbby]

Get to know your mutuals!

Thanks for the tag @arun-armand-amadeo !

What's the origin of your blog title? Reference to my favorite tv show/pairing from it, IWTV.

OTP(s) + Shipname: Armand/Daniel (IWTV), Finn/Poe (Star Wars), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens), Adora/Catra (She-Ra), Dani/Jamie (Haunting of Bly Manor)

Favorite color: Blue 🩵

Favorite game: Stardew Valley

Song stuck in your head: Lately it’s been Hozier’s cover of “Do I Wanna Know?”.

Weirdest habit/trait? I go through food hyper fixations where I’ll only eat certain foods for weeks on end until I get sick of them until I have to find the next food to fixate on.

Hobbies: Reading, writing, playing video games, painting, photography, and knitting/crocheting.

If you work, what's your profession? Bank teller.

If you could have any job you wish, what would it be? I’ve always wanted to be a writer or a librarian.

Something you're good at: Painting; it’s been a hobby of mine for the last few years but I’ve gotten good enough that I decided to paint all my Christmas gifts last year.

Something you're bad at: Saying no to people, but I’m trying to get better at it.

Something you love: To sing along to songs obnoxiously in my car.

Something you could talk about for hours off the cuff: Literally anything I’m interested in, I love to talk lol

Something you hate: Billionaires, AI, the current state of my country…

Something you collect: Theatre programs for all the shows I’ve seen live.

Something you forget: People’s names. I’m great with faces, terrible with remembering names.

What's your love language? Quality time.

Favorite movie/show: TV show - Interview With The Vampire, Movie - the Lord of the Rings trilogy

Favorite food: Ice cream

Favorite animal: Dolphins

What were you like as a child? Quiet, nerdy, big time people pleaser.

Favorite subject at school? History

Least favorite subject: Math

What's your best character trait? I’m extremely empathetic and try my best to see things from other people’s point of view, which usually helps with being patient/kind.

What's your worst character trait? I have a hard time putting myself out there and opening up to people I’ve just met, so I’m sure I can come off as rude, but I’m really just shy/socially anxious.

If you could change any detail of your life right now, what would it be? I would like to have a life partner, been kind of lonely lately.

If you could travel in time, who would you like to meet? Tudor history was a hyperfixation of mine when I was younger so I’d love to meet Queen Elizabeth I.

Tag as as many mutuals as you want: @gremlinsminion @sillystigmata @sakura-xoxo @multi-trashqueen @eric-bogosian @mossterious @tvarmandaniel @throes-of-increasing-wonder @jameslongforjimshortforgabriel @loustat