#How do you know how to describe it like that

[inbabylontheywept]

Memories of Grandpa Dale

I was playing in the barn, but I was also hiding from my grandpa. I was aware that this hurt his feelings, but I didn’t know what else to do. Every year I’d ever visited him before, he’d seemed kind of mad at me, but I’d hoped still that year was the year that we’d finally be friends. I even made a list of things to do together. 

Unfortunately, the list did not fix things¹ so I'd been forced to acknowledge that if he couldn't be happy with me there, and he couldn't be happy with me gone, then perhaps he simply could not be happy. At least, not until someone invented The Secret Third Thing.

(But I was only nine. So. That someone would probably not be me.) 

Fortunately, being happy is a task that I've never needed to delegate - I’m actually quite good at it. I’d been sad in the barn for maybe an hour or so, but eventually that got boring, so I invented a new game where I would chase big clouds of shiny blue flies off the sun-warmed horse-poop and try to shoo them towards a corner of the barn that I knew had a large spiderweb in it. 

I was perfectly aware that this is not ideal for the flies, but I had just read Charlotte’s Web, so my empathy function was very biased towards spiders, who I perceived as patient and compassionate and slightly maternal women. Who just happened to have eight legs.  

(I, like most nine year old boys, would have personally been willing to fight a war for every patient, compassionate, slightly maternal woman I had ever met. If you, personally, have ever hugged a little boy who was trying very hard not to cry in front of his friends after skinning his knee, know that there is a child in this world that would kill in your name.)

(Now live with that knowledge.) 

I played my game with the flies for a long time. Long enough to get into a rhythm of running and laughing and then panting outside on my back while wallowing in the long green grass.

It was during one of those walks outside to lay in the grass that I noticed my mom. She was sitting on a hay bale, looking baffled. I don’t know how long she’d been there, but I was too young and confident to even feel odd. She asked me what I’m doing, and I just kind of gestured to the ceiling, and said, You know, just. Feeding spiders.²

She nodded. I was feeding spiders. Of course. 

We sat there a few moments. It was an amicable silence, but I was still faintly relieved when she broke it.  

Your grandpa’s been looking for you, she said. He got some grapes earlier. Wanted to take you to feed the ducks.

I've always really liked feeding ducks³. Visiting them had actually been the next thing on my list. 

I was baffled by the effort. 

He’s mad at me, I pointed out. My mom, to her credit, looked genuinely confused. 

He’s not, she said. 

But he was mad when we picked blackberries, I pointed out. And when we went on that walk down to the prairie. And he snapped at me this morning when I asked if I could have some of his dried mangos. 

The mangos had been my last straw. The weirdest part was that he didn’t even say no, he just (angrily) said of course you can, as if it was an insult to his hospitality that I was asking when just the year before he’d yelled at me because I ate a tin of dried apples. Apparently, I was just supposed to know that those apples were exclusively reserved for The Apocalypse. 

(To be fair, my grandpa has always been very worried about the apocalypse, but mostly in the context of not having enough dried apples for it. There was a period of my life where I thought that The Apocalypse referred to some kind of prophesied biblical event where there would be No More Apples. This thought has stuck with me for a very long time⁴.)

Well. Yeah. My mom said. He’s mad. But he’s not mad at you. He’s just… Mad. 

I mulled this over. 

What about the mangos? I asked, and she shrugged at that. 

Alright, so that time he was mad at you, but that’s being mad one time in three days. Cut the man some slack, you’ve been asking him for permission before eating anything. 

I just don’t want to eat the wrong thing, I said. I’ve always been very defensive of my rule-following. Both because rules are important, and also because that #10 can of dried apples ripped through me like a shotgun full of razor blades⁵. That “snack” had 400% the recommended daily fiber for an adult man. And I was very definitely not a grown man when I ate it.  

It was a very painful experience is what I am trying to say. 

I know, my mom said. 

I don’t even like apples, I added. Still defensive. 

I know, my mom said again. She’s very good at saying it. It always feels like she’s agreeing with me, and not just trying to rush me onto The Point. Sometimes, people need to make detours from The Point in order to explain things. Like, hypothetically, why they once ate a very large number of dehydrated apples. My mom is wise, and she has always known this. . 

I just really wanted to eat something sweet, I continued. They don’t keep anything sweet in the whole house. The day before I ate those apples, I licked all the salt off a saltine just so I could eat the cracker plain. And then the cracker tasted just like a cookie. To me. That’s how crazy I was going. 

My mom nodded her head sympathetically. 

My first month of college, she said conspiratorially, I ate about a box of poptarts a day. 

There was another longish pause as both of us considered what led us to this point. 

My parents are crazy, my mom said at long last. It’s a very peaceful statement to her. I'm sure it was stressful when she first realized it, but she's had a long time to make her peace, and she's made it well.  

Will you go with me? I asked. To feed the ducks?  

He’s not mad at you, she said again. Reemphasizing her point. He’s just mad. It’s just how he is. 

But she went with me anyway.

I watched Grandpa Dale closely the whole way to the pond to see if my mom was right. She was. She almost always is.  He was angry while he drove, and he was angry while he parked and he was even angry while he strode purposefully towards the park. When we got there, he took several grapes, and he angrily put them in his hand, and angrily extended the hand towards the ducks, and he looked at me, and for maybe a tenth of a second he looked okay. Not exactly happy, but a little less mad. Then a duck bit the webbing between his pointer finger and his thumb.

He immediately, without hesitation, without even a second thought, hit the duck with a haymaker⁶. For a human, the punch would have been devastating, but the duck had the benefit of having essentially no inertia, so it just kind of moved sideways and looked perplexed. 

You son of a bitch, my grandpa said. This is a funny thing for anyone to say to a duck, but it was especially funny to hear coming from a former Mormon Bishop. 

Quack,⁷ said the duck. 

My mom started laughing. I'd felt a sort of holy terror at the anger my grandpa was exuding in that moment, but the moment she laughed I realized how absurd it was. I was watching a grown man beef with a duck. I was watching a grown man beef with the world. 

I started laughing too. In a better world, maybe my grandpa would've joined. Maybe he would've taken a good hard look in the mirror and questioned why exactly he was so angry. But he didn't. Instead he swore at the duck some more, and he threw his remaining handful of grapes at it overhand, like a baseball, and then the duck ate the grapes out of the water, and my mom actually laughed so hard she started dry heaving a little, and my grandpa had to go sit in the car for a few minutes by himself to regain his composure. 

¹ He managed to pick blackberries angrily

² Unfortunately, I do this kind of response quite a bit.

³ I got my first kiss from my wife because I managed to capture a duck. They're like, a motif for my life. Very lucky to have that.

⁴ I reference it again in this very weird short story.

⁵ I eat a lot of strange things.

⁶ My wife is concerned people will not know what a haymaker is. It is simply the most redneck kind of punch.

⁷ ...What did you expect it to say?

[mostlysignssomeportents]

The enshittification of tech jobs

I'm on a 20+ city book tour for my new novel PICKS AND SHOVELS. Catch me at NEW ZEALAND'S UNITY BOOKS in AUCKLAND on May 2, and in WELLINGTON on May 3. More tour dates (Pittsburgh, PDX, London, Manchester) here.

Tech workers are a weird choice for "princes of labor," but for decades they've enjoyed unparalleled labor power, expressed in high wages, lavish stock grants, and whimsical campuses with free laundry and dry-cleaning, gourmet cafeterias, and kombucha on tap:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nhUtdgVZ7MY

All of this, despite the fact that tech union density is so low it can barely be charted. Tech workers' power didn't come from solidarity, it came from scarcity. When you're getting five new recruiter emails every day, you don't need a shop steward to tell your boss to go fuck themselves at the morning scrum. You can do it yourself, secure in the knowledge that there's a company across the road who'll give you a better job by lunchtime.

Tech bosses sucked up to their workers because tech workers are insanely productive. Even with sky-high salaries, every hour a tech worker puts in on the job translates into massive profits. Which created a conundrum for tech bosses: if tech workers produce incalculable value for the company every time they touch their keyboards, and if there aren't enough tech workers to go around, how do you get whichever tech workers you can hire to put in as many hours as possible?

The answer is a tactic that Fobazi Ettarh called "vocational awe":

https://www.inthelibrarywiththeleadpipe.org/2018/vocational-awe/

"Vocational awe" describes the feeling that your work matters so much that you should accept all manner of tradeoffs and calamities to get the job done. Ettarh uses the term to describe the pathology of librarians, teachers, nurses and other underpaid, easily exploited workers in "caring professions." Tech workers are weird candidates for vocational awe, given how well-paid they are, but never let it be said that tech bosses don't know how to innovate – they successfully transposed an exploitation tactic from the most precarious professionals to the least precarious.

As farcical as all the engineer-pampering tech bosses got up to for the first couple decades of this century was, it certainly paid off. Tech workers stayed at the office for every hour that god sent, skipping their parents' funerals and their kids' graduations to ship on time. Snark all you like about empty platitudes like "organize the world's information and make it useful" or "bring the world closer together," but you can't argue with results: workers who could – and did – bargain for anything from their bosses…except a 40-hour work-week.

But for tech bosses, this vocational awe wheeze had a fatal flaw: if you convince your workforce that they are monk-warriors engaged in the holy labor of bringing forth a new, better technological age, they aren't going to be very happy when you order them to enshittify the products they ruined their lives to ship. "I fight for the user" has been lurking in the hindbrains of so many tech workers since the Tron years, somehow nestling comfortably alongside of the idea that "I don't need a union, I'm a temporarily embarrassed founder."

Tech bosses don't actually like workers. You can tell by the way they treat the workers they don't fear. Sure, Tim Cook's engineers get beer-fattened, chestnut finished and massaged like Kobe cows, but Cook's factory workers in China are so maltreated that Foxconn (the cutout Apple uses to run "iPhone City" where Apple's products are made) had to install suicide nets to reduce the amount of spatter from workers who would rather die than put in another hour at Tim Apple's funtime distraction rectangle factory:

https://www.theguardian.com/technology/2017/jun/18/foxconn-life-death-forbidden-city-longhua-suicide-apple-iphone-brian-merchant-one-device-extract

Jeff Bezos's engineers get soft-play areas, one imported Australian barista for each mini-kitchen, and the kind of Japanese toilet that doesn't just wash you after but also offers you a trim and dye-job, but Amazon delivery drivers are monitored by AIs that narc them out for driving with their mouths open (singing is prohibited in Uncle Jeff's delivery pods!) and have to piss in bottles; meanwhile, Amazon warehouse workers are injured at three times the rate of other warehouse workers.

This is how tech bosses would treat tech workers…if they could.

And now? They can.

Writing for the Wall Street Journal, Katherine Bindley describes the new labor dynamics at Big Tech:

https://www.msn.com/en-us/money/companies/tech-workers-are-just-like-the-rest-of-us-miserable-at-work/ar-AA1DDKjh

It starts with Meta, who just announced a 5% across-the-board layoff – on the same day that it doubled executive bonuses. But it's not just the workers who get shown the door who suffer in this new tech reality – the workers on the job are having to do two or three jobs, for worse pay, and without all those lovely perks.

Take Google, where founder Sergey Brin just told his workers that they should be aiming for a "sweet spot" of 60 hours/week. Brin returned to Google to oversee its sweaty and desperate "pivot to AI," and like so many tech execs, he's been trumpeting the increased productivity that chatbots will deliver for coders. But a coder who picks up their fired colleagues' work load by pulling 60-hour work-weeks isn't "more productive," they're more exploited.

Amazon is another firm whose top exec, Andy Jassy, has boasted about the productivity gains of AI, but an Amazon Web Services manager who spoke to Bindley says that he's lost so many coders that he's now writing code for the first time in a decade.

Then there's a Meta recruiter who got fired and then immediately re-hired, but as a "short term employee" with no merit pay, stock grants, or promotions. She has to continuously reapply for her job, and has picked up the workload of several fired colleagues who weren't re-hired. Meta managers (the ones whose bonuses were just doubled) call this initiative "agility." Amazon is famous for spying on its warehouse workers and drivers – and now its tech staff report getting popups warning them that their keystrokes are being monitored and analyzed, and their screens are being recorded.

Bindley spoke to David Markley, an Amazon veteran turned executive coach, who attributed the worsening conditions (for example, managers being given 30 direct reports) to the "narrative" of AI. Not, you'll note, the actual reality of AI, but rather, the story that AI lets you "collapse the organization," slash headcount and salaries, and pauperize the (former) princes of labor.

The point of AI isn't to make workers more productive, it's to make them weaker when they bargain with their bosses. Another of Bindley's sources went through eight rounds of interviews with a company, received an offer, countered with a request for 12% more than the offer, and had the job withdrawn, because "the company didn’t want to move ahead anymore based on the way the compensation conversation had gone."

For decades, tech workers were able to flatter themselves that they were peers with their bosses – that "temporarily embarrassed founder" syndrome again. The Google founders and Zuck held regular "town hall" meetings where the rank-and-file engineers could ask impertinent questions. At Google, these have been replaced with "tightly scripted events." Zuckerberg has discontinued his participation in company-wide Q&As, because they are "no longer a good use of his time."

Companies are scaling back perks in both meaningful ways (Netflix hacking away at parental leave), and petty ones (Netflix and Google cutting back on free branded swag for workers). Google's hacked back its "fun budget" for offsite team-building activities and replacement laptops for workers needing faster machines (so much for prioritizing "increasing worker productivity").

Trump's new gangster capitalism pits immiserated blue collar workers against the "professional and managerial class," attacking universities and other institutions that promised social mobility to the children of working families. Trump had a point when he lionized factory work as a source of excellent wages and benefits for working people without degrees, but he conspicuously fails to mention that factory work was deadly, low-waged and miserable – until factory workers formed unions:

https://www.laborpolitics.com/p/unions-not-just-factories-will-make

Re-shoring industrial jobs to the USA is a perfectly reasonable goal. Between uncertain geopolitics, climate chaos, monopolization and the lurking spectre of the next pandemic, we should assume that supply-chains will be repeatedly and cataclysmicly shocked over the next century or more. And yes, re-shoring product could provide good jobs to working people – but only if they're unionized.

But Trump has gutted the National Labor Relations Board and stacked his administration with bloodsucking scabs like Elon Musk. Trump doesn't want to bring good jobs back to America – he wants to bring bad jobs back to America. He wants to reshore manufacturing jobs from territories with terrible wages, deadly labor conditions, and no environment controls by taking away Americans' wages, labor rights and environmental protections. He doesn't just want to bring home iPhone production, he wants to import the suicide nets of iPhone City, too.

Tech workers are workers, and they once held the line against enshittification, refusing to break the things they'd built for their bosses in meaningless all-nighters motivated by vocational awe. Long after tech bosses were able to buy all their competitors, capture their regulators, and expand IP law to neutralize the threat of innovative, interoperable products like alternative app stores, ad-blockers and jailbreaking kits, tech workers held the line.

There've been half a million US tech layoff since 2023. Tech workers' scarcity-derived power has been vaporized. Tech workers can avoid the fate of the factory, warehouse and delivery workers their bosses literally work to death – but only by unionizing.

In other words, the workers in re-shored factories and tech workers need the same thing. They are class allies – and tech bosses are their class enemies. This is class war.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2025/04/25/some-animals/#are-more-equal-than-others

[e5e5e5e5e5]

So, a wake, like the funerary ritual.

The Brits say it has nothing to do with waiting for the person to maybe wake up.

But they also did bells attached to people's coffins.

And Shane McCorriston wrote that one of the reasons was to 'ensure death had really occured'.

So, like, you know how we freak out about social media echo chambers? That's always existed, it's called prescriptive linguistics or language borders or top down communication or however you like to describe it with whatever stolen words.

Idk I'm not great at English.

I speak thief.

Chinga la frontera.

[leclerc-hs]

Chalres x Reader(Brothers best friend)

Reader is Charles younger brothers best friend she has always had a crush on Charles but Charles never seemed interested one day there's like a pool party she wears a very revealing sexy bikini and Charles takes notice of her

All the smut please ✨️

pairing: charles leclerc x fem!reader word count: <900 warnings: smut smut smut, language, 18+ author's note: sorry its kinda short!!! just kinda dove straight into the smut LOL, maybe one day I'll make another version of charles x brother's best friend but this is all I had time to do for now!! xoxo ◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤

You had always been Arthur’s best friend. His sidekick, his shadow. The girl who spent endless summers barefoot at the karting tracks, grease smudged across your skin, weaving yourself into every corner of his life.

You were a constant. A staple.

Another Leclerc, almost. A little sister.

And Charles had never thought twice about it. You were harmless. Safe. Comfortable.

Until now.

Until this party, where you were dripping wet from the pool, the tiniest soft red fucking bikini clinging to your body, laughing loudly at something Arthur said.

It was hardly a swimsuit. Two ragged slivers of soft red fabric, stitched together and tied at your hips in shoulders, would be a better way to describe it. 

Scraps. That’s all it was. Every knot, every flimsy tie, looked like it was one tug away from coming undone.

Indecent, barely there. Exposed.

And so goddamn beautiful it knocked the air from his lungs.

Charles nearly dropped his drink, fingers spasming around the bottle in his hands, as heat pumped in his chest.

He tried. Tried to ignore it as long as he could all day.

But the second you wandered inside alone. Wet, shivering, in nothing but those flimsy scraps of fabric. He snapped.

He followed you inside before he could think better of it, the door clicking shut behind him sharply.

You turned, surprised, smiling like you didn’t even know what you were doing to him.

And he fucking lost it.

One moment he was standing across the room, the next he was in front of you, hands grabbing your face, mouth crashing onto yours like he needed you to breathe. A kiss that tasted like anger and hunger.

You gasp, stunned, but melted into him almost instantly. Fingers slipping into his wet hair like you’d dreamed of this a million times. You have.

Charles pulls back slightly, panting. “This,” he gasps. “This wasn’t supposed to happen.”

You stare up at him, body trembling. “You don’t even know,” you whisper. “How long I’ve wanted this.”

He groaned. Audibly groaned like it hurt him.

“I never,” he chokes, kissing you again, harder. “Never thought of you like this.”

“But you’re still kissing me,” you whisper.

And you whimper into his mouth, hips rocking into him like fucking instinct.

“You’re so fucking beautiful. Always were.” He mutters, eyes dragging down your body like he hated himself for even looking. But he couldn’t stop. “I just…can’t fucking stop.” He crashes his mouth back over yours.

Charles didn’t ease into you at all. No. He shoved deep inside of you with a brutal, desperate thrust that knocked the air from you.

You cried out, clutching his back, nails digging into his skin.

“Fuck,” he rasps, forehead pressed to yours. “You’re gonna kill me.”

He stayed buried for a second, grinding slowly, making you feel every fucking throbbing inch of him.

“You have no idea,” he groans. “How fucking long I fought this.”

You whimper, clenching around him.

“Used to look at you,” he pulls himself out of you, before slamming back into you, hard. “And tell myself you were safe. You were just Arthur’s best friend.”

And he thrusts deeper, harder, making you moan out loud.

“Harmless.” He laughs at himself. Like he’s angry he didn’t see it earlier.

You sobbed his name. Over fucking whelmed by the pace of his hips. The feel of his cock stretching you.

“Now all I can think about is bending you over every fucking surface possible.” His hips snap harder, making you sob out.

“Can’t sleep without seeing you spread open for me,” His voice is filthy in your ear. 

Your walls clench around him, body shaking from how hard he was fucking into you. Like he wanted to punish you for it.

“Fuckin ruined me,” he hisses against your skin. Fisting your hair and yanking your head to look at him. “You’re mine now, you get that?”

You nod fast. Frantic. Tears forming in the corners of your eyes.

“Say it,” He orders. “Tell me you’re mine.”

“Yours,” your voice breaks, a moan slipping through.

He lets out a filthy groan, fucking you harder, slamming into you until you couldn’t see straight.

“Supposed to be my sister,” He mutters, delirious from the squeeze of your cunt on his cock. “Now all I wanna do is put a baby in you. Fill you up so fuckin full of me.”

And your orgasm crashes into you violently. Ripping through you as you clench around him. Gripping him harshly.

He curses violently, coming with a low groan, grinding into you harshly as he spills into you, filling you full, hips thrusting like he couldn’t stop.

“This doesn’t end here, y’get that?” He rasps. “Think one times enough?” His mouth frags over your jaw, biting into your skin.

“I’m gonna fucking ruin you,” Still grinding into your soaking cunt. “Gonna fuck you so many times you’ll never want another guy again.”

You moan, body trembling. 

“Gonna make you come over and over, until you’re crying for me.” His thrusts don’t stop. “Gonna take you home. Fuck you all over the place if that’s what it takes.”

Then he grabs your hips, slamming into you again. Starting all over again.

[sqgeism]

so i recently read a post about how aglaea represents divinity through humanity's flesh and blood and anaxa represents humanity through the mask of a porcelain doll.

Soooo this has got me very curious, how would anaxa react to his partner (reader) literally being the human equivalent of a porcelain doll? glassy eyes, long lashes, pasty pale/white skin. maybe they even visibly crack in response to stressors/trauma!! ive totally developed this into my own oc and would love to read your thoughts! ty as always

𐙚 𓏵𓏵𓏵 𐙚 𝐛𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐝 𝐝𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐧 𝐨𝐥𝐝, 𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐜𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐝𝐨𝐥𝐥, 𝐢𝐬 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 | amphoreus men x gender neutral reader

love mail — hii :3 i'm alive again! i had (married) femme reader in mind but honestly could pass as (still married) gn reader ＼(^o^)／ i suuper love this concept nd i hope it lives up to your expectations, anonnie :D kiss muwa ( ´ ▽ ` )ﾉ also anaxa's is rly long bc i intended for it to be standalone but added the others in the end ;p they're all (except anaxa) rlly short sorry LMAOAOA characters in order : anaxa, mydei, phainon

from the day anaxa met you, to the day of your wedding, and every moment after — he's learned to be careful. he's always described himself as 'experimental', ready to do it all for the sake of knowledge and further understanding. but when he met you, he couldn't be that. he was fascinated with you in seconds, your porcelain skin was delicate, the kind that shatters because of hands like his. you were his opposite, and ever since he fell in love with you, his treasure.

anaxa had built some sort of.. habit with you. when his sister was alive, she showed him different hairstyles that she wanted. anaxa, the loving boy he was, tried his very best to learn. unfortunately, as you've come to learn, he never got to really do them. his own way of healing from that grief was through you, when you first allowed him to brush your hair for you — he found himself tying it into a beautiful braid. he won't forget the glimmer in your glassy eyes, thanking him so softly that he was sure even his cold, dead heart was touched. you had that affect on him, always have.

but that joy was short lived, as when you smiled- your face cracked. his face drops and so does he, falling to his knees right infront of you as his hands cup your cheek. "what happened? does it hurt? how can i help?" there's a noticeable shift in that indifferent demeanor that anaxa's always seen with.

and that makes you smile more, but the emotion is so strong that it causes you to shatter more. anaxa won't deny that he feels himself a little flustered at such a beautiful display that is your smile, but the cracking isn't stopping.

he eventually learns that you two are alike for different reasons. anaxa's nonchalance to most situations is caused by the fact he's lost all ability to care, he's lost everything that's ever mattered to him — why care about losing anything more? it'll make him just hurt all over again. he never wants to remember what it's like to drown in emotion ever again.

but your still expressions are the way they are because you feel too much. an overbundance of joy makes you smile, pressuring your porcelain complextion and causing it to crack. same with stress, sadness, any form of emotion makes you feel like you're breaking. but you wish to experience every single one deeply, you want to turn into nothing but pieces just to know what it's like to completely, and utterly, *feel.

but around each other, there is a balance. while you were used to a disproportion of emotion, anaxa kept you calm in every situation, but still allowed you to feel. you wouldn't crack, no, but you still felt your heart race every time anaxa kissed your fingers or ran his hand through your hair. and so, you can come to the quick conclusion that you allowed *him* to experience what you have had too much of. you bring him comfort, unease, and affection all at once and he's willing to indulge in it. he doesn't want to completely experience it all, but you let him worry just enough to make something else but a thin line and an empty gaze in his expression.

he adores you, really. he'd punish the stars for ever trying to rival the beauty that is sparkle in your eyes.

he has his head on your lap while they brush through your hair, humming a lullaby while you sit there, unmoving but enjoying yourself in silence. the breeze is cool, the grass is green and the flowers that surround you, mydei, and the little ones make the scene feel straight out of a painting.

mydei's in a similar position, but if you allow him- he'd love to bring you around to meet the children. if you're at all insecure about the way you exist as a person, he's sure that they can help. they're too young to understand or villainize you in any way, they're just.. in awe of you. the same manner that he was. a big, life sized doll? with pretty clothes and brushable hair? they're all over you in a moments notice. and mydei adores every second.

a warrior and his muse, his weakness, his heart. everything that you are mends perfectly into an emptiness inside of him, and you fix the scars that have lingered for him to heal.

phainon's in a similar boat, except he's like the children. he ADOOOORES you. buys you outfits every week, learned to do your hair, sits by your vanity mirror with eyes of pure and utter admiration as you do makeup.. he's soo enamored by you, it's insane. though he does tend to worry that when he makes you laugh (which is a lot, he appreciates it), you start to crack. they do eventually heal, but he's noticed you've become insecure about it. growing a habit of wearing veils or large hats to hide that beautiful face he adores.

he likes to call your cracks 'smile lines', since they tend to happen after you laugh or smile. it's a human thing, but he's trying to describe the similarities to you. he'll tell you that when humans smile all throughout their life, they get smile lines.. and while some are insecure about them, phainon thinks they should be proud. that the aeon's have given them the gift of so many happy, special moments, that they make sure all of the world gets to see it. that they know they've lived a good, happy life. and you shouldn't be ashamed of yours either.

nothing could shatter how perfectly imperfect you are to him. to phainon, you embody his every need and want.

[owenthetokencishet]

okay but really I'm trying to write a female space marine character right now and I LITERALLY. CANNOT. MAKE. IT. NOT. A. TRANSGENDER. NARRATIVE.

Created against her will? Becoming a thing she was always told it was not possible for her to be? Ostracized by the Imperium because That's Not Fucking Canon?????

The primaris shit already had some of that sprinkled in (muffled catawumpus about being created against her will) but also some funky toxic masculinity stuff (we found a way to make you EVEN MANLIER and all it takes is peeling your skin off and systematically breaking every bone in your body without anesthetic (seriously how did this procedure save titus's life while he was dying of 12" wide hole in his chest))

Like I'm trying to build her personality out beyond Woman™️ but Space Marines are soooo fucking blaaaaaand in personality (unless they're wolves but I HAD to go for generic successor chapter #339 becuase that's how I painted her model) and trying to pace the path of her life and where she'd fit in the canon her being a woman KEEPS SCRAPING UP AGAINST THINGS. Space Marines are the manliest men in the Imperium what do you mean that one's a woman. Big Men can't be women. I do not think misogyny as we know it exists in the Imperium of Man but I'm pretty sure her fellow primaris marines would look at her the way firstborn look at primaris. The illegal experiment of a mechanical madman. Her company, the people she lives and works with are used to her. Her fellow captains respect her authority enough to put any bigotries they'd have aside to get the job done. But there's a reason she wears a helmet and modulates her voice when meeting with outside imperials

AND I'M NOT DOING ANY OF IT ON PURPOSE. I'm just throwing a wrench into the canon and following it to an inevitable conclusion that makes me go "huh. This is almost exactly how my friends describe being transgender. This is almost exactly how transphobia works."

any story featuring a Special Class of Disposable Boy (mech pilot child soldiers, science experiment psychic kids, living bioweapon, etc etc) is a transfeminine narrative whether the author intended for it to be or not

[gtgbabie0]

hi beautiful! could you do pre-crash!lottie head cannons similar to your wildness!lottie one? thank you! :)💐

⋆⁺ ✮⋆⁺ Pre-Crash!Lottie Matthews x Reader

synopsis: {relationship headcannons after getting rescued from the wilderness} warnings: 18+ at the end.

AN// so sorry this took months, I hit a bit of a mental block. hope you enjoy <3 we will all ignore that I mixed up post and pre here— I can’t anymore.

♡︎ The pair of you were inseparable out in the wilderness, attached to the hip, then you got rescued, and things took a complete one-eighty for both the better and the worse.

♡︎ You had tired to desperately to stay with her, to stop them from taking her away but you were only met with a bunch of legal jargon that made little to no sense to your already fragile mind— instead you made a promise for both your sakes to get better so hopefully you’ll see her once again.

“It’ll be okay Lot— we’ll be okay.” You murmur the same words as she did to you, hands clasped tightly around her own as if to tether yourself to her. Lottie wouldn’t blink so much, let alone talk, not even a peep. “I’ll write to you every day,” and before she was whisked away, her fingers tightened the tiniest bit around your palm— a feeling that lingered for months.

♡︎ Lottie would read and reread those letters almost every single day and in return you’d get a few replies throughout the months telling you all about her week and such— a back and forth of longing, all those scribbled, “I miss yous” “I love yous” the paragraphs where she’d describe how desperately she wanted to see you, hug you and all the things she wanted to do when she was released. It gave you the strength to keep up with your own therapy and umpteen doctor appointments.

♡︎ Seeing you for the first time in months nearly took the poor girl out— hell, it almost brought you to your knees. Watching her rush over to you, dropping her bag and throwing her arms around your shoulder as if she was finally coming home after a long trip.

“You’re here, you really came,” and despite everything, it was still her. The same girl who’d paint your nails and do your makeup, who’d hold your pinky beneath tables and admire you from across the classroom. “Course I am, I promised.” You only dare to pull back an inch, hands cupping her face as she stares up at you with deep, brown, glossy eyes.

♡︎ Lottie found it really hard to settle in at first, she would have bad days like anyone— but sometimes these days would be really bad, often turning to weeks depending on the circumstances.

♡︎ There were times when she wouldn’t talk, words wedged in the back of her throat, her face just a blank expression, like she was light years away— swept up in her own mind. You always kept close to her, gently brushing your fingertips along the back of her hand to let her know you were still there, softly whispering reassuring words to her. Then, eventually, you’d get a small smile or she’d wordlessly reach out for you, slowly coming back to reality.

“Oh, there she is.” you tease her at the sight of her smile widening at your tender touch, although there was relief in your eyes that was unmissable, and she’d respond with a soft, “I never left.”

♡︎ You would learn her triggers quickly— straying away from loud noises and any sudden movements or anything else that might cause her to retreat back into herself.

♡︎ Lottie’s medication kept her afloat for the most part, although it didn’t prevent nightmares that felt a little too familiar. Warped memories that have been engraved into her mind, coming back to haunt her until she’s jostling from her sleep with a ragged, almost pained gasp— a noise just shy of a scream that would wake you immediately.

“Hey, Lottie— hey, hey.” your tone slightly rough from sleep as you slowly push yourself up, hands gently reaching out to cup her teary face, grounding her. “You’re okay, you’re safe, Lot.” you would try to soothe her, wiping away her tears and guiding her breaths as she clings to you with a sob. “You’re home, baby, you’re home.”

♡︎ Those nights were spent watching late-night television, holding her close to you and playing with her hair until she either fell back asleep or the sun rose.

♡︎ She would feel awful about keeping you up at ungodly hours of the night because her mind decided to take an unwanted trip down memory lane.

“You can go back to sleep, I’ll be fine,” she murmurs, face tucked beneath your chin, words muffled against your collarbones as her arms tighten around you. “Not until you’re okay,” and Lottie knew it was a losing argument; you were stubborn when it came to her.

♡︎ Pampering was a must— whether it be morning or night or the whole day. Sometimes the pair of you just needed the rejuvenating and what better way to do so then to spend hours looking after each other.

“You’re so pretty,” Lottie's voice was just shy of a whisper as her fingertips ever so gently caressing the apple of your cheeks. “Yeah, even with this ridiculous face mask on?” You smirk, and she replies with an eager nod, leaning forwards to steal a kiss from your lips. “Mhm, especially with the face mask on, honey.”

♡︎ Lottie loves to keep busy with you in any and all ways possible— all that time out in the wilderness made you forget the fun parts of life like baking together, arts and craft nights, fruit picking during the summer and going to the local pumpkin patch during the autumn. She had a list of all the things she wanted to do written in her journal.

“I’m never taking it off.” Lottie beams, her deep brown eyes watching you gently clasp the bracelet you had made around her wrist— a perfect fit. “Thank you, baby.” She’s all giddy, and it makes you giddy as she leans over to press a kiss to your cheek.

♡18+ from this point♡

♡︎ It would take a while for Lottie to be comfortable getting intimate again after everything she had been through— not to mention her medication affects her sex drive.

♡ ︎Lottie enjoys it slow and loving— open-mouthed kisses along her jaw and neck and tender hands tracing over her curves, really gets her going— after all she loves to be adored.

“I’ve got you, just relax f’me.” your words muffled into the crook of her neck as you brush a lingering kiss against the underside of her jaw— her hands grasping at your shirt, unable to stop herself from moaning. “Mm, please— I want you closer.” her back arches up into your touch as your mouth descends her body.

♡ You often took the lead to begin with, but it was she who was in full control— you were at her every command and she trusted you completely, trust was a really big thing for Lottie.

♡ On those nights where one of you would wake up from a terrible nightmare and needed to be close— to feel the thrum of the others' steady heartbeat and the heat of skin against skin, you would bathe together— that’s how you’d both come to find a deep appreciation for it. You would buy bath soaks and oils, all that jazz, just for those special occasions.

“Pretty girl.” Lottie's voice was as soft as silk, her arms wrapped around your waist as she sits behind you in the bathtub— her face pressed into the crook of your neck, kissing along the dewy skin of your shoulder. “How’re you feeling now?” her question is met with a small whimpering noise from the back of your throat as you lie back against her chest, her hand slipping between your thighs. “I’m here, baby, just relax.”

♡ Once she was more comfortable, she wouldn’t mind initiating things, wanting to make you feel just as good as you made her feel— it wasn’t a hard job considering she remembered your body like the back of her hand, where to kiss and push and bite.

♡ Experimenting with Lottie was fun— a shock at first when she suddenly came to you one night all shy and red in the cheeks, stuttering, but once she explained, you were all in, and eventually this left you with quite a nice collection of vibrators and strap-ons.

♡ Lottie's strap game is crazy— like in the mind-numbing type of way that leaves you feeling her inside you for days after. And she’s so vocal too, whether she’s giving or receiving. It always leaves you aching for more of her.

“There you go pretty girl, take it all f’me.” or "Such a greedy girl, taking me so deep, huh?" as she’s fucking you into the mattress, hands grasping your hips, moaning like she can feel you cum around her strap. I need her.

[cinnamoonblue]

It reminds me of you

ONE SHOT - Ryomen Sukuna/Reader (female)

DESCRIPTION: Modern AU - fluff

SUMMARY: You want a Labubu so bad, especially the one which reminds you the most of your boyfriend, and he makes sure you get everything you want.

WARNINGS: english is not my first language, explicit language, pet names (princess, brat, woman), reader described as a female

WORD COUNT: 2,9K

✰ MASTERLIST ✰

NOTE: This is my first Sukuna one-shot ever, and I'm so excited. I have been wanting to start writing about him for such a long time now, and recently I finally become a Labubu mami and I love them so much and they have always reminded me so much of him so I had to write this. I hope you have fun reading this short one-shot with Sukuna as your mean, rude and grumpy man to the world, but being the most carrying and sweetest boyfriend to you. I know that for a lot of you this might not be the most correct take/description of modern day Sukuna, but low-key I think that he will be a big softy for his girl. ♡ Enjoy reading ♡

!PLEASE IF SOMEONE KNOW WHO IS THE ARTIST BEHIND THIS FANART OF SUKUNA IS IN THE BANNER LET ME KNOW SO I CAN CREDIT THEM!

It all started when one day you saw a TikTok of some girl unboxing something called Labubu. The moment you saw the fluffy small monster you fell in love with it and wanted one immediately. Sadly, when you checked the website where they sell them everything was sold out.

Since that day, your boyfriend has been hearing about these so called Labubus all the time. Sukuna, being Sukuna of course, doesn’t get the hype behind them and thinks that they are just a waste of money, but you choose to ignore him and his opinion.

Tonight is Friday, surprisingly both of you have it off today from both your university and the part time jobs you have, so you have decided to just stay home and do nothing. Ordering a takeaway from the nearest ramen shop closest to your apartment, you two eat your dinner while doing your own stuffs – you snuggled up in bed watching your favorite series, while Sukuna is playing games with his friends on his computer.

Your boyfriend seems to be losing as you can hear him loud and clearly cussing out his opponents and friends, but you don’t pay much attention to it as you are quite use to this type of behavior from him.

You and Sukuna are very different as people. When you started dating two years ago it came as a surprise to everyone around you. While you are more of a layback, nice and open person, Sukuna is a menace. He is rude, he is mean, he is eighty percent of the time grumpy, and he is probably the biggest cocky asshole a person can be or meet - is what everyone will say if you ask them about your salmon haired boyfriend. What they don’t know is that they are right, but also very wrong. He is all this and even more, the list with his bad sides and qualities is quite long. What they don’t know is that your boyfriend is also the most carrying, loving and sweet boyfriend any girl in this world would dream about, but only you get the chance to call him yours.

To this day you are the only person who he has let to know him on such a deeper level. Even his closes friends, Uraume and Toji, had never seen how sweet and carrying Sukuna could be until they met you, which leaded to a lot of teasing and messing around with him from his friends, but even when it seemed like he couldn’t stand it when they do it, from the inside Sukuna didn’t really care. As long as his girl is happy, he is willing to do the best he can, so you never feel unloved or cared about.

As they night continued you have switched from watching your favorite show to scrolling on TikTok. Tonight is a very important night for you as Labubu is having a big restocking and all you want is to get your hands on two boxes – one for you and one for your boyfriend.

Even though Sukuna doesn’t like or see the hype behind them, they remind you so much of him, and because of it you want to match with your boyfriend and get him one as well.

You know that you can’t keep yourself awake till four in the morning when the release will be so instead you put alarms to wake yourself up. Getting up from the bed before you fall asleep, you go to Sukuna who is still playing and wrap your hands around him.

“I’m going to sleep now.” You say to him as you place kisses all over his face while his eyes are focused on the game he is currently playing. “Are you coming to bed soon?”

Cussing out one more time as his team loses, he takes his headphones down and turns to you. Taking your face in the palms of his hands, he pulls you closer to him as he crashes his lips into yours. The kiss you share is both aggressive and gentle at the same time, but you don’t mind.

“No, princess. All because someone doesn’t know how to play.” He says to the mic attached to the headphones from which you can hear Toji’s voice complaining about Sukuna and his skills.

You laugh when you see your boyfriend’s grumpy face and kiss his lips one more time. “Don’t take too long.” You tell him as you wish him and Toji goodnight.

Your alarm rings at exactly three fifty-eight in the morning, but in your sleepy state you turn it off and roll to the side hoping that you will find your boyfriend next to you but instead you are met with an empty bed. Sitting up in bed you open your eyes and see him still on his computer talking quietly, probably still with Toji, making sure not to wake you up.

Grabbing your phone to see what time it is, the realization hits you. The Labubu drop. It is tonight and it is happening right now. Unlocking your phone and typing the website you breathe out for a second as you see that it is loading so you still have the chance to have your hands on two boxes, after all you are just a minute late after four.

“No, no, no, no.” You scream in despair as the website crashes. This makes your boyfriend immediately turn around and look at you. Seeing you whining and hitting the pillows in the bed with all the power you have in you, he takes his headphones off and gets up from his gaming chair.

“What’s wrong, princess?” Getting in bed and wrapping his arms around you he pulls you closer to his big define with muscles body.

“I failed.” You cry as your turn towards him, burying your head in his naked chest and wrapping your arms around his neck.

Looking down at you Sukuna raises one brow. What have you failed exactly? You have already passed the last exam you had, so what it could be you failed so badly at four in the morning?

“What are you talking about?” His voice deep as always makes you look up at him.

“The Labubu war. I failed getting us Labubus.” Crying out dramatically, you bury your face again in his chest.

“Woman, are you fucking crazy?” He can’t believe that this whole scene is all about some overpriced kid’s toy. “You can’t be serious. All this at four am, for some ugly ass toy?”

Pulling away from him, you give him an offended look. “How could you call Labubu ugly?” You try to push him away from you, but this is impossible. This man is at least five times your size if anything you made things worse, as he pulls you to lay down with him.

“They are, princess.” His arms tighten around you even more as you gasp when he offended your little obsession again.

“No, Kuna they are not.” You protest once again as you try to escape your boyfriend’s deadly grip. “They are extremely cute, and you have no idea how much I want to get us some.”

“Why you keep saying us?” Easing his grip a bit he looks at you once again with confusion and a bit of irritation written all over his face.

“Because I want to get one for you as well, so we can match.” Propping on one arm on the bed you move your body a bit sideways to Sukuna’s in a way that you can balance it as you start running the fingers of your other hand through his soft salmon pink locks.

“I’m not carrying this ugly ass toy anywhere.” A makeshift of a mocking laughter escapes past his lips as he can’t believe that you want to get him one as well, even when you know that he doesn’t like them.

“You were going to put it in your car as a car charm.” Grabbing a bit of his hair in a fist you pull it playfully, making him hiss a bit from it.

“Oh, so you already decided where I’ll put it.” He playfully rolls his eyes as you nod at him.

“You know, I don’t know if I have mentioned, but they remind me of you so much.” Pushing yourself up with one hand, you cross one leg over his body and now you are sitting on top of him, tracing his tattoos with your fingers.  

“These monster looking things?”

“Yes, Kuna. These monster looking things.” You reply with a smile as you bend your body closer to him, your faces now millimeters apart. “Because they seem evil and mean from the outside, but they are actually super nice, and sweet, and cute.” With every word you say, you place a kiss on his lips. His grumpy face doesn’t change much, but you know him very well and you know that he enjoys what you are doing. “Should I stop?”

Giving you a warning look with his dark crimson eyes, you just laugh at him as you continue to kiss his lips. “I’m not cute.” He murmurs in between your kisses.

“Sure, Sukuna. Sure.” You whisper with a smile.

It has been a week since that night. You have promised yourself that you will get Labubu no matter what next time they drop, but the problem is that it won’t be any time soon. You have found a lot of resellers in your city, but the prices they sell them for are crazy and as much as you want one for you and your boyfriend you won’t spent that much money on it.

Coming home from a long shift from work and a long day from lectures all you want is to take a hot shower and snuggle up in bed. Sukuna is working tonight as well, but you don’t know when he will be home. The nightclub he works at doesn’t close until five in the morning and even if you text him, he won’t be able to response, so all you can do is guess when he might be back.

After taking your hot shower before bed your whole body feels a bit relaxed, but it is still crying for sleep. Instead of putting on pajamas, you go for one of your boyfriend’s T-shirts. The moment you put it on, you hear the front door of your apartment opening.

Walking out of the bedroom you are met with your tired boyfriend’s face. “Hey, Kuna.” You say as you go to him and wrap your arms around him. “Why home so early?”

“It was slow. They can manage without me.” He grunts as he pulls away a bit but still holds you in his arms. “I have something for you, brat.” He tells you, giving you a tired, cocky smile, the one you love so much.

You can’t help but smile. This is the real Sukuna for you, the one only you have the privilege to see - grumpy, but carrying; tired, but still very loving.

Nodding with his head, Sukuna leads you to your living room, and you both sit on the sofa. Taking his black backpack from his bag he tells you to close your eyes, and you do exactly what he tells you to do. You can hear him unzipping the bag and then taking something out of it, pulling it on the table. “Okay, open them now.”

Opening your eyes, you look at the coffee table and see what is on top of it. Gasping loudly, your eyes widen, and you can help but happily stomp with your legs on the floor. Two Labubu boxes. He got you not one, but two Labubu boxes as you wanted. “Sukuna… you… how?”

“I have my ways.” He smirks at you.

The excitement in your voice fills up the room and you can’t help but throw yourself in your boyfriend’s body. “I love you, Kuna. I love you so much.”

Wrapping his arms around your body and rolling his eyes as you buried your face in the crook of his neck, he murmurs. “Yea, yea. Me too, brat.”

Pulling away from him you give him a quick kiss on the lips before you take the boxes in your hand.

“They are not from the two different collections, one of them is the one you wanted the most, so…” Hearing this you are not surprised. He might be grumpy and seems like he doesn’t always pay attention to what you are saying, but Sukuna always listens. Of course, he has heard, and against his will, remembers all the things you have said about this stupid keychain of toys. He knows which collection you want the most, and which color you wanted, but he has managed to find only one box from it, but he hopes you like the other one as well.

“Okay, let’s open the macaron one first.” You excitedly say, as you closed your eyes and started to open the box. “I really want the pink one.”

Sukuna can’t help but smile. You are adorable. Not only now when you are all excited as a little kid about some toy, but in general. He will be lying if he says that he doesn’t love this childish side of yours. He adores it. He adores everything about you.

Finally, opening the box and the small package the Labubu is in it, you open your eyes. “Oh my, Kuna, look how cute it is.” You coo at the grey Lububu in your hands, pulling it closer to you in a hug.

“But it’s not pink.” Sukuna comments as he takes it from your hands to observe it better, still not understanding the hype.

“It doesn’t matter, it’s still super cute.” Reaching for the other box, you take a better look at it, before you open it. It is the ‘Have a Seat’ edition, the other one you wanted the most, because here is the Labubu that reminds you the most of Sukuna and you are praying to be it in the box.

Doing the exact same blind opening as you did with the first box, you take a deep breath before opening your eyes. You not only scream, but also jumped from excitement, which made Sukuna flinch in surprise.

“Calm down, woman. You’ll wake the neighbors up.”

“Baby, oh my, Kuna. Kuna, look!” You excitedly start to jump on one spot on the sofa, your excitement through the roof, because you have got the one you want the most. The salmon pink one, with red eyes with heart shapes in them. Your own Labubu Sukuna. “I got you in Labubu version.”

Turning the Labubu, towards him, Sukuna just rolls his eyes. It looks nothing like him. He is a tall, big, scary for some people man, not a pink furry monster keychain. “It looks nothing like me.” He grunts.

“Yes, it does, Kuna.” You pull him closer for a kiss. “Thank you. You made me so happy tonight.” Placing a kiss on his cheek, you also wrap your arms around him.

“Only tonight?” He slightly tilts his head to take a better look at you.

“A bit more, than usual.” You reply.

Two weeks later you, Sukuna and Toji went out for a few drinks. Sukuna didn’t drink tonight, because he has decided to go out with his car, and right now he is the only sober one, he has to drag you and Toji to where he has parked.

“Come on, get in asshole.” He tells Toji as he tries to get him to sit in the back seat of the car. Once he gets Toji to get in the car, he closes the door and gets to the driver’s seat.

“The fuck is this mouse hanging on the mirror?” Toji laughs from the back of the car as he points towards Sukuna’s grey Labubu hanging on the rear-view mirror.

“This is Labubu.” You turn around to look at Toji as you explain to him what Labubu is and you show him your salmon pink one, placed in a little car basket on the air conditioner on your side.

On your way to Toji’s place he heard everything about Labubu, and the story of how you got them. “It was last week when we went to the mall and bought them their outfits and the car seat.” You happily squeak as you take look at your Labubus. Your Labubu is dressed in a cute pink outfit, and Sukuna’s wears a black robbery mask, with a silver and gold chain around its neck and a gun in one hand.

“We are here. Now get out before you throw up in my car.” Sukuna turns to Toji as he parked in front of his place. He knows that from tomorrow Toji won’t stop making fun of him, all because of this stupid toy.

Before Toji gets out of the car, he pats Sukuna on the shoulder and leans closer to tell him something, which you don’t catch. “Aren’t you a big softy, Kuna?” Without giving Sukuna a chance to response, Toji is out of the car, as he knows how to piss his best friend off the best – call him weak for you and use the nickname only you can call him.

“What did he say?” You ask once you two are alone and Sukuna starts the engine again.

“That Labubu sucks.”

END NOTE: I hope you really liked this short one-shot. Sukuna is one of my most favorite anime men (I have only two most favorite men lol) and this is the first time ever I write something about him, so every criticism about it will be appreciated, as I plan to write a lot more about him in the future. If you liked this feel free to like, comment, reblog or message me ♡ Thank you for reading it ♡♡♡

writing, format, header © cinnamoonblue & dividers by © cinnamoonblue and @bernardsbendystraws ©cinnamoonblue, do not copy or plagiarise my work.

[ashwhowrites]

Hello hello my wonderful friend!

I’m not sure if you’ve done one of this trope before, you’ve written so many so it wouldn’t surprise me! But this may be a little different? I’d like to request sex pollen trope with Eddie and then some miscommunication and angst with a happy ending. ❤️❤️

I was thinking maybe they’re in the upside down and some weird plant/mist/etc down there does it? Or honestly it doesn’t have to be so literal. Whatever way to get the sex pollen effect you like best. But basically the whole older group is affected, whatever happens with the others is off-screen. Reader and Eddie have both been in love with each other forever but she doesn’t think Eddie likes her back and Eddie thinks she’s way beyond his league and wouldn’t ever want him. The sex pollen happens and then after when the group is embarrassed and getting ready to move past it a few comments are made by the others like “I’d never have done that in my right mind” or like joking comments about “let’s forget this ever happened”, “my eyes - I need bleach!” Basically trying to make light of it and move past it. And Eddie makes some kind of joking comment as well, sure that reader is mortified to have done that with her best friend. Reader is devastated because she hoped that it might have meant something and that he’d meant what he’d said to her during as much as she had meant what she said to him. She distances herself from Eddie which upsets him but he understands (thinks it’s because of the pollen stuff, not his comment). He’s talking to Steve about it one day, unsure what to do to fix it and Steve is confused. Apparently the others (minus Jonathon and Nancy or whoever you prefer to ship as an established couple) all just touched themselves with the exception of the established couple. The pollen didn’t make you do anything you didn’t want to do, it just made you crazy horny and more uninhibited. It also didn’t make anyone else say things, or compel them to say things. They were in control completely. Cue realization. Eddie goes to reader, confronts her (“did you mean what you said?”), she’s like please don’t do this, you said yourself *insert joking comment*. He reveals what he learned from Steve. Reader is embarrassed and blushing but realizes Eddie said some things during too. Actual confessions happen, happy ending, tears and kisses.

I feel like I did an awful job of explaining but don’t feel like you have to stick exactly to that mess above. I just wasn’t sure how else to describe the idea I’m going for? I’m just wanting the Ash spin on sex pollen trope that has your signature delicious miscommunication angst and then happy ending. Full creative control is yours obviously and I’ll be happy with it because you wrote it and you’re my fave 🥰

My first take on sex pollen trope so 🤞🏻 I hope I do it justice. I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it! Thank you for requesting ❤️

Mysterious plant

⚠️smut

It was summer break, Y/N, Robin and Eddie just graduated, Nancy and Steve needed a break from the work life, so they all decided to take a camping trip. They packed all their stuff into Eddie's van and hit the road before sundown.

The trip was everything they needed. Time in the sun, time away from responsibilities, and a whole lot of drugs and alcohol. They only spent a few nights there, before they headed back. None knowing they were bringing something back with them.

"Yo, is this poisonous?" Eddie asked as he reached forward to touch a strange looking plant.

"Don't touch it!" Y/N warned him, slapping his hand away. She looked down at the plant, truly having no idea what it was.

"Nothing I've seen before. But we are in the woods so we probably shouldn't touch it," Nancy said as she looked down at it.

They all surrounded it as they looked at it. A gust of wind came and ripped the roots right out of the ground. The dirt flew up and made them cough as it filled their nose.

"Welp, at least it's dead now," Robin said as she coughed. The strange plant caused them to cough for a good few minutes as they packed everything up.

As Eddie drove them back, he felt a little funky. His body was getting really warm and he could feel himself sweating.

"Is anyone else hot?" Y/N asked from the passenger seat. She cranked up the AC.

"Yes," Steve groaned as he uncomfortably shifted in his spot in the back. Nancy and Robin groaned in agreement.

Eddie couldn't help but speed as the air continued to get thick and hot.

~

"Finally!" Eddie groaned as he walked into his trailer. He quickly tore off his shirt, throwing it in the bathroom as he walked to his room.

Y/N ran a towel under the sink, putting it on her forehead as she tried to soak in the cold water. She closed her eyes as she took deep breaths. She heard Eddie walking around and the sound of him running the sink. She kept her eyes shut as she focused on not getting sick from how overheated she was.

Eddie splashed the water on his face, letting the droplets run down his naked chest. His mind was blank as all he could feel was how hot he felt.

He turned off the sink, quickly tying his hair up. "You want to change? I've got some boxers you can throw on," he asked. For the first time since leaving, he looked at her.

And this different feeling ran through his body. A shiver up his spine. He always had the hots for her, it was obvious she was attractive. But he'd never make a move on his best friend. Not after all the years they spent together and the friendship they created. He knew he had feelings for her, but his body was practically aching as he looked at her.

She opened her eyes to answer him, words stuck in her throat as he stood in just boxers. She gulped as her body seemed to have a mind of its own. She felt her face burn as she shifted, feeling a pool of wetness between her thighs. She knew for a fact it wasn't because of the heat.

She had a thing for Eddie for years. Started as a little schoolgirl crush and developed into something much more when they both went through puberty. He grew into his body and she's been dealing with falling in love with her best friend for a while now.

Eddie was nowhere near the type to be in a relationship. So, she figured not to bother wishing on a star he'd feel the same. She was always so good at keeping her composure, which is why she was shocked that she couldn't form words as he stared at her.

He must have felt something too. Because the longer they stared at each other, the longer their bodies craved each other.

"Uh, sure," she finally got out. She pushed herself away from the counter and walked to his room.

Eddie didn't feel in control of his own body as he followed her. He was a nice guy, he knew to give her privacy. But it was like he had no choice, in a trance as he walked in. She could feel his eyes on her, and she loved it. Normally, she would push him out but something in her wanted him to watch her.

She turned as her body smacked into his. She gasped as she could easily feel his hard cock against her. She looked into his eyes as she stripped off her shirt. She held her breath when his hands wrapped around her, palms against her back as he slid up and unhooked her bra.

She didn't feel nervous or self-conscious as the material fell to the floor. His hands skimmed to her hips, holding her softly. All his mind was focused on was the burning heat in his stomach and the throbbing of his cock. He wasn't worried about it being his best friend, he wasn't taking the time to be in awe of her naked chest in front of him, he needed to fuck her.

The only thing both of them could think about.

He was fast as he smashed his lips on hers. The simple kiss brought moans out of them as they gripped each other. The kiss was messy and desperate, trying to relieve the sexual tension they felt. But it only edged them on. Their tongues danced with each other as he pushed her down on his bed, keeping his mouth on hers.

She rubbed her thighs together, the amount of wetness she felt was indescribable. She had never been this wet before. She could physically feel her cunt throbbing and her clit ache to be touched.

When he pulled away, a line of spit connected them from his lips to hers. His eyes bored into hers and it was as they were communicating without words.

In quick movements, they stripped each other. Their hands were fast and uncoordinated as they tried to feel every inch of each other.

Her hands burned as they ran up his chest and then down his back. The feeling of his skin drove her insane and she wanted to feel more and more. He shivered as she touched him, his hands moving to her chest.

His cock twitched as he massaged her breasts, fingers rolling her nipples as precum leaked out of him. She thought having his touch would settle the fire in her stomach but it only fueled it more. They both understood there was no reason for foreplay, too impatient as their bodies ached.

Eddie could barely think straight as he shoved himself into her. Loudly moaning in bliss he felt her wrap around him. She whined as she felt him fill her up, wasting no time as she moved her hips.

He pressed his lips against hers as he began to thrust into her. He felt insane as he fucked her as fast and hard as possible. Her eyes rolled in the back of her head as he hit every spot inside of her. Their sweaty bodies rubbed against each other.

He pulled away as he panted into her face. Both had no control as their moans filled up the room. He could feel his toes curling from the way his balls slammed against her. It was something he wanted for so long and it was way better than he imagined.

"More, please. I need more," she whined as she clawed at his back. His body felt perfect against her. She was addicted to every part of him. The smell of sex and sweat made her arch.

She shivered as he laughed. A dark mocking laugh.

"Yeah? Fucking beg for it, slut,"

She figured she'd gasp at his words but all that came out was a loud moan. She should have known he was dominant and rough.

"Fuck. Please! You feel so good. I just need more. I'll take anything just fuck, please, something," she begged.

Eddie kept his focus on fucking her as he reached for his nightstand. He yanked it open, mindlessly searching. Y/N felt her cunt pulse with excitement as he pulled out a small vibrator. She wasn't surprised Eddie would have sex toys hiding somewhere. She tried to make a mental note to look back at the nightstand in the future.

She jolted as he pressed it against her clit, the vibrations adding more pleasure.

"Moan for me, beautiful. I've dreamed of hearing you moan my name," he whispered as he flicked the vibrator on a higher level.

She gasped as her bundles of nerves reacted to the new vibration. She also loved knowing he thought about this before.

"Eddieeeeeee," she moaned as she clawed at his back. Her back arched as she felt herself cumming. She's positive this was a record speed for how quickly she needed to cum. "I need to cum, Eddie."

"Good girl, cum for me, baby. Let me fuck you through it," he encouraged as he allowed himself to get close. "Can I please fill you up?" He begged.

Her eyes rolled in the back of her head as she continued to cum. Her ears loved the sound of his choked begs.

"Yes,"

The second she said it, his stomach snapped. He tossed the vibrator to the side as he used his fingers. She squirmed as her clit burned. Moaning as he continued to fuck her.

"Oh my God, FUCK," she screamed as her cunt grew sensitive. Every thrust and circle pained her as another orgasm started building.

He dropped to his elbows as he gave his final thrusts, hot spurts of cum painting her insides. Both moaning at the feeling.

She figured the heat and burn would disappear, but nothing changed. Her cunt was soaked and now pulsing for more. Eddie noticed it within himself too, his cock already hardening inside of her.

He looked up at her, a sexy smirk as he slowly began to slide himself in and out of her. He watched her face to see how well she'd take him again. And he didn't see a slight bit of discomfort. She moaned, moving her hands down to his chest as she softly clawed.

"I'm not ready to be done with you, can you handle more?" He asked, halting his movements in case she wanted to be done.

"Yes, but I want to ride you," she admitted as she placed her palms against his chest and pushed. He slowly slid out of her.

A huge smile crossed his face as he dropped on his back, wrapping a hand around his cock. He slowly jerked himself as he looked at her. "You're breathtaking."

She blushed as she moved on top of him. She placed her hands on his hairy thighs and sank down on him.

"You'd kill me if you knew how many times I've thought of you in this position," he moaned as she began to bounce on him. He gripped her hips and helped her move her hips.

"I probably should but this feels too good to care," she moaned. Her body was feeling things she had never known before. She couldn't get enough of how amazing he felt inside of her.

He laughed, sitting up as he wrapped his arms around her. She wrapped her arms around his neck as she used the new balance to bounce faster. He sucked on her neck, loving the taste of her sweat. She yanked out his hair, letting his curls fall on his shoulders.

"Why did we never think to do this before?" She asked as she shivered in pleasure. They could've been doing this for years at this point, instead of robbing themselves of how amazing their bodies worked together.

He released her neck as he pulled back to look at her. He was sure it was an in-the-moment comment, but he thought the same thing for months. "Didn't think you'd ever see me that kind of way."

Her hips slowed at the honesty in his voice. Her heart melted for him. She rolled her hips forward as she brought her arms around his neck. The closeness made the moment more passionate as she looked into his eyes. "I see you in the best kind of way."

He smashed his lips on hers, thrusting his hips up to fuck her as she moaned into the kiss

It didn't matter how much they touched each other. Or how deep he was in her. The burning desire for each other wasn't lessening. It was making them want it more and for it to never end.

She rocked her hips against him, feeling a familiar burn in her stomach. Eddie felt every strand of his hair soaked in sweat, sticking to his face.

"Fuck you're so beautiful, so wet, so perfect around me," he praised, biting his lip as he fucked up in her as hard as he could. "I could fuck you for the rest of my life."

Her heart pounded at his words. Breath hitching as she bounced on him. "Yeah? You promise?"

"Is that what you want? To be wrapped around my cock forever?" He whispered as her breath fanned his face. Her body reacted to him by squeezing around him. "Fuck do that again."

She repeated the action, loving how he let out a long moan. "Tell me you want it too," she whispered, her lips inches above his.

"I want you for the rest of my life," he admitted. He shocked himself by saying it but he meant it. "I think I'm in love with you."

She froze on top of him, blinking a thousand times. Did he just admit he was in love with her?

"No, I know I'm in love with you," he corrected. His hands ran up her back, holding the back of her head as he brought her lips against his.

She kissed him back. She moaned into his mouth as his left hand moved down to her clit. She pulled away, smiling in pleasure and bliss.

"I love you too," she confessed. Her forehead was against his as she felt her orgasm building. She rocked her hips against him, soaking in the feeling of his fingers on her clit. "Make me cum."

"My pleasure," he smirked, cockily circling her clit as she began to fall apart.

She felt her stomach burn with the familiar feeling, she leaned down and sank her teeth into his shoulder as she came again. Eddie growled out at the feeling, loving the harsh sting as she broke his skin.

~~~

Eddie woke up to the sound of a phone ringing. He rubbed his eyes as he looked around. His room was a mess, everything scattered everywhere, shit was falling off his walls, and his desk was no longer together properly.

The ringing continued, and Eddie felt a body next to him move. A reminder of who helped him create the mess. He gulped as he looked over at her. She was still asleep, on her stomach as she faced the other direction. He slowly got up, hissing as he stood up straight. A burning sensation ran all over his back, he wrapped his sheet around him and he practically limped as he walked to get the phone.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Eddie. I talked to Robin and Nancy, and we all think something was up with that plant. We are going to meet up to talk about it, can we meet at your place? Call Y/N too," Steve said. Eddie agreed to meet them and hung up.

He walked towards his room, Y/N awake as she held a blanket around her body as she looked for her clothes.

"Morning, um, Steve wants us to meet here to talk about something," back to his shy self, Eddie turned around to give her privacy.

"Okay, yeah. Just gonna go get ready!" She squealed as she gathered her clothes and ran towards the bathroom. Once the door slammed, Eddie changed into new clothes. His body was sore which made everything harder, he was curious if her body was in any pain.

He held his shirt in his hand, waiting for her to exit the bathroom.

"Oh! You um, still are...not dressed," she said as she awkwardly tried not to look at his naked heavily marked chest. She felt her face burn as she saw all the hickies and scratch marks.

"Yeah, I kinda need help with my back. Could you put this on me?" He stood up and handed her the small tube of ointment. She gasped as he turned, his back far worse than his chest.

"Oh fuck, is it bad?" He asked upon hearing her gasp. She was embarrassed for what she left behind, but also enjoyed having her mark all over him.

"Just a lot of them. This might sting," she warned as she began to rub the ointment along his skin.

Just like that, the same fire burned in his stomach as she touched him. But this time, his brain was awake and active. Making him think logically that whatever happened yesterday only happened because of that damn plant.

He couldn't get excited by the feeling of her hands rubbing his back. Or how her breath hit his skin and made his spine straighten.

After she finished, he turned around. As they stared at each other, the air got thicker. She blew out a nervous breath.

"Can we talk quickly? I want to talk about some things we said last night." She asked

"Maybe after?" Eddie asked, feeling like he needed to throw up. He was nervous about what she wanted to say and he wanted time to deal with it.

"Um, yeah," she nodded. Her stomach turned with anxiety. She didn't want to wait. She wanted to clear the air about what happened and she needed to know how he felt about it. She turned around and walked out to his living room, needing to be out of his room and the aftermath of themselves.

Eddie took a few deep breaths and walked out. He walked to his front door and left it unlocked. He wanted to sit next to her but he felt terrified. So, he sat on the opposite side. Y/N felt the blow to her chest but tried not to show it. They never sat this far apart. The air was awkward as they sat in silence.

A loud commotion came from outside as everyone traveled in. Steve, Robin and Nancy all stood in front of the couch.

Steve awkwardly coughed as he started, "So, Nancy and I did some research about the plant we saw. I'm going to be blunt, I did things I wish I never thought of."

Y/N scrunched her face, uncomfortable with the idea of her friend sleeping with each other.

"I can't even look at myself," Robin laughed as she tried to make light of the situation.

"Moral of the story," Nancy said as she rolled her eyes, "It was a sex pollen plant. And we are moving past it and nothing happened!"

"Sex pollen?" Y/N questioned out loud, "Never heard of it."

Eddie was silent as he listened. It was confirmed that the plant was the reason all of that happened. He knew he wanted to do it because he liked her. But she did it because of the damn pollen.

"Wanna go get food?" Steve asked as he clapped. Everyone nodded, ready to move on from the awkward conversation.

Y/N grabbed Eddie's hand before he walked out, "We still need to talk."

"It was the pollen, it's okay. We can move past it like they all did," he explained. She dropped his hand and accepted his answer. Clearly, there was nothing else behind what happened.

She was absolutely shattered. And it hurt that he refused to talk about it. He admitted he was in love with her and now wanted to pretend it never happened.

~~~

A few weeks passed and Y/N tried to be okay with not expressing how she felt to Eddie. She tried to fake it and return to normal. It seemed everyone else did.

Robin, Nancy, and Steve didn't seem like anything happened between any of them. Y/N was never going to ask for details so she had no idea who got involved with who, and she was fine with not knowing.

Y/N walked up to the small diner as the gang was meeting for breakfast. She walked in and everyone was already sitting. She slid in on the end next to Eddie.

"I wish I could bleach my eyes so I wouldn't have the vision of it anymore," Steve laughed. The table laughed with him and Y/N wasn't sure what the topic was.

"I know. I'm ashamed of my own body. I didn't think it could do all it did," Robin shivered.

"Me too. I feel like I can never go to church again," Nancy groaned as she covered her face.

Y/N figured it was about the recent event they all moved on from, except her.

"All I know is if I see that plant again, I'm walking away because I never want to experience that again. Horrified from that night" Eddie laughed. The table joined in but Y/N felt a kick to her gut.

She hugged herself as she felt embarrassed. Was having hours of sex with her that horrible? She'd be fine to do it all over again but that's where they were different. She was in love with him and he got infected. She meant what she said and confessed, and it was all a joke to him.

"What about you? You haven't said anything about what you did," Steve said as he looked at her. Y/N felt her body burn as everyone turned to look at her.

"I'd prefer not to talk about it," Y/N said. She didn't want to say anything after the horrific comment Eddie made.

Eddie gave her a side glance, slightly relieved she didn't say anything. He was sure she was horrified by what she did with him. And wanted to take back everything she said. Which is why he kept hiding from the conversation he knew she wanted to have.

They accepted her answer, finally moving on from the topic.

~

The second Y/N got home she allowed herself to cry in the comfort of her room. She admitted everything to that boy and he wanted to erase the night from history. She felt crushed and heartbroken.

She should have known Eddie wouldn't touch her that way without a substance. She should have known he wasn't the type to say how he felt and that everything he said wasn't true.

She hated that she was the only one who seemed to have true feelings about what she did. The rest of the gang clearly could move on. Eddie didn't mean anything, and she was stuck feeling everything.

~~~

Y/N had to distance herself a bit from Eddie because everything was still hurting. She couldn't face him knowing she meant everything she said and did. He'd probably laugh in her face if he knew that.

Eddie noticed the distance, but he understood why she needed it. She fucked the freak and now had to deal with the thought of it. He was disappointed that the events ruined their friendship because that's what he was scared of the most. He spent days ignoring how he felt for her so she didn't leave. And now, she is gone.

He went from spending every day with her to nothing at all for two straight weeks. He missed her.

He called Steve over for help, which meant he was desperate.

"Y/N has been a ghost to me for like two weeks. I don't want to rush her or anything, but I mean, we are all in the same boat. We all were infected by that pollen and did things with each other. But you three all moved on like nothing happened. How did you do it? How can I make it easier for her?" Eddie asked question after question.

Steve looked at him, confused, "Wait, did you two sleep with each other? Like as in you and Y/N had sex!"

"I don't understand how you are confused by that," Eddie rolled his eyes, "obviously we had sex otherwise there wouldn't be an issue!"

"Wow," Steve said, a slow smirk forming on his face, "you guys really fucked? Was she any good?"

"I'm about three seconds away from decking you in the face," Eddie growled, "You have Nancy, don't worry about how Y/N is."

Steve backed up from the threat but laughed at Eddie's clear jealousy. "Alright, calm down. Clearly, she's all yours; I got that. Nancy, Robin and I were all alone when we dealt with the pollen. I did research on it and everything. It's basically just a pollen that makes you crazy horny, barely able to satisfy it and that's why it continues on for hours. None of us had sex with each other. It doesn't make you desire whoever is with you. That's not how it works. So whatever you and Y/N did, came straight from your guys. Just with a push," Steve explained.

"But maybe it's because we were together when it happened! So we desired each other" Eddie tried to explain.

"I was with Nancy in the same car when I started to feel it. Touching her or sleeping with her never crossed my mind," Steve said as he crossed his arms. He leaned back against Eddie's couch, "You my friend are in love with her and that's why it happened."

"Woah now," Eddie laughed, "I never said anything about love."

Steve rolled his eyes but a playful smile on his face. "Don't bother trying to cover it. I told you, I did all the research. It doesn't make you feel anything you haven't already felt. And it doesn't make you say anything you didn't mean. Whatever happened between you two, happened because of how you guys already felt."

Eddie soaked in his words, his stomach fluttering as he thought about everything they said during their time together. "So, let's say she admitted to loving me and something like that. That's the truth? Not the pollen?"

"Bingo," Steve smiled as he leaned forward, "So, seriously, how was it?"

Eddie rolled his eyes, but a smile broke on his face. Steve shoved him as he saw the smile.

"You totally are into her!"

"Oh shut up!"

~

Eddie was terrified to face his feelings but he wasn't going to be the reason he lost her. The only way she's allowed to leave his life is by her decision. He'll never drive her there and he'll beg before she does.

All he had to do was admit he was in love with her. He was doubting himself, but losing her forever scared him more than any confession. He already had the suspicion she felt the same, if what Steve said was true. It gave him comfort he wouldn't be shooting in the dark.

He softly knocked on her bedroom window, the moon his only form of light. She took a deep breath as she flipped her lamp on. Only one person knocked on her window, and truthfully she missed him. She quickly got out of bed and walked over, unlocking it and allowing him inside. She shivered as she felt the cold night air, shutting the window.

"Well, at least you are prepared for me to stay. That has to be a good sign," Eddie tried to joke as she closed the window, instead of leaving it open for an early exit.

She smiled at him and walked to sit on her bed. "You don't have to be so nervous," she said as he stood in one spot. "You can sit. I won't bite you."

"Liked it last time you did," he joked back as he sat next to her. The joke landed flat as she awkwardly looked away. "Moving on. I just want to check on you. I understand things are a little weird for us. But I don't want you to think I'm not here for you."

Her heart swelled at his words, she turned to look at him with a soft smile. "I appreciate that. I'm sorry I've been weird. I just needed more time to move on. But I've missed my best friend."

He ignored the sadness he felt when she called him her best friend. He was glad he was, but he wanted to be something more to her. A best friend that's in a boyfriend.

"Did you need more time to move on because you meant what you said?" He threw the question out there like a grenade. No warning as it landed in her lap.

She hugged herself, looking down at her lap. "We don't need to do this, Eddie." She heavily sighed, "You said it yourself that we can move on like they all did and I don't want to make you relive such a horrifying memory of what sex is like with me."

Eddie kicked himself as the words were tossed back at him. She remembered what he said; that meant it stuck with her, and he felt like an asshole.

"I found out from Steve that none of them had sex with each other. It was just us," he explained. That caused her to look at him.

She shrugged as she thought it over, "probably because we were with each other."

"That's what I said. But it turns out, the pollen makes you crazy horny and nothing else. Steve said everything we did and said was because it was already in our body, the desire and tension. The pollen was just a push."

She looked at him horrified, her body burning in embarrassment. "That was far more than a push!" She covered her face with her hands. She liked the idea of blaming the pollen for the crazy shit she did to her best friend. It was embarrassing enough to have a crush, but now she did every sexual fantasy she thought of with him, and it was because she wanted to.

She wasn't sure if she wanted to die more because he knew she loved him or because he knew she wanted to fuck him.

"But isn't it nice to know we wanted to?" He asked, trying to remove her hands but she wouldn't budge.

"No, Edward. I want to cry in a hole and disappear. Because now, you know how I feel and I can't even blame it on that fucking plant!" Then it hit her, he couldn't blame the plant either.

She slowly removed her hands as she looked over at him. He was bent down as he tried to look into her eyes. His brown eyes looked at her with worry and softness.

"You...you said things too!" She gasped, pointing at him. "You! You told me you think about me sexually all the time. And that you-"

Eddie covered her mouth with his hand, "Yeah, I was there, gorgeous. I don't need you to remind me." He blushed embarrassed. "I meant the other things I said too."

She had never seen Eddie so serious. Not a single twinkle of tease in his eye or a twitch of his mouth. He slowly removed her hand.

She couldn't believe it. Years spent thinking about how good they'd be together, how much more love she could offer him if they went past friends. And it was truly something that could happen. She teared up at the thought. All the hurt she felt pining after him and it all was worth it.

He cupped her face as the first tear dropped. He wiped it away, licking his lips. "Are you okay?"

"Do you want to do this?" She whispered, looking down at his lips.

"Yes," he said without hesitation. Then finally, his lips pressed against hers. She eagerly kissed him back. She had been craving to do this again and she figured she never would. But fuck, she's glad she was wrong.

Eddie softly pushed her on her back as he crawled on top of her. The kiss deepened as he moved his hands down her body, swinging her leg around his waist.

She ran her fingers through his hair, head in the clouds. She pulled away, moving her hands to rest on his shoulders as she looked up at him.

"I love you," he whispered as he leaned in to press his forehead against hers. His eyes staring into hers, his warm hands on her hips.

"I love you too," she smiled, leaning up to softly kiss his lips.

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[spread-the-influence]

The Intervention

Word Count: 1724

--

Despite its title, Caine’s office was not an office. It would be best described as his focus space. No walls or floors were to be found in the black void; only floating wooden boards that acted as stairs or chairs, file drawers containing his many, many notes, and text that drifted like clouds. An absolute mess for a space used for daily maintenance or generating adventures, but it’s what works for Caine’s brain specifically.

As much as Caine wanted to model a room for himself, the lack of scenery was necessary for maximum focus. If he gave himself an office chair, he knew he would spend an absurd amount of hours spinning on it. This state of chaos, ironically, kept him more focused than if it were actually organized.

Here, he was constantly in a state of moving. Caine hopped on the boards, which spiraled upwards like ordinary stairs, and reached for the farthest file drawers. This realm may not be the epitome of order, but it wasn’t entirely devoid of it; those on the top are the important files, the ones he would hate to lose in the sea of poorly-labeled folders.

Maybe he should actually learn to organize.

But he’ll worry about that later. Codeword for ‘never’, of course.

Caine pulled open a drawer, where the daily maintenance reports resided. He may have eyes all around the circus, but he and Bubble are just only two AIs! Fortunately, the system routinely scans itself for anything that might be off.

There are reports of an infected item here and there, but it’s nothing good ol’ deletion couldn’t fix. There are also numerous flags from NPCs of an infected entity, which he has yet to answer. Every time he tried to investigate it, his systems weren’t able to detect what it was. Either the flags were false positives—or it walked off into the void while he wasn’t looking. For all Caine knows, it could be right in front of him.

Overall, there are little issues to be found in the code. Now for his players... He opened another drawer, the one where he kept his notes. He can’t read their minds, neither does the system, so he only has to rely on manual feedback.

Little problems with his performers thus far. Aside from...

Ragatha. Sweet, wonderful Ragatha. Caine may not be the best with subtleties, but even he could tell she’s been having problems with the adventures. Reports of NPCs suddenly wanting to get away from her, dealing with injuries, and the entire stupid sauce incident. If Caine could, he would do something about the poor doll’s disastrous luck. Tie a four leaf clover to her hair, or shove a horseshoe down her throat.

But he’ll worry about that sometime. For now, he’ll need to do something to get her satisfaction scores back on the high once more. With therapy, of course!

Twirling off the wooden board he’s sitting on, the darkness around Caine warped to the familiar, pinkish colors of Ragatha’s room. Realizing he’s upside down, he rotated himself upwards.

The ragdoll was sitting on the bed, having been awoken from a short nap; the fifth one after taking four of them consecutively. It was a substitute for sleep nowadays.

“RAGATHA!” Caine’s voice boomed, surprising Ragatha. “WE’LL NEED TO TALK ABOUT—WHAT HAPPENED?”

Ragatha followed Caine’s gaze to realize that he’s staring at the bedside mirror; which had a crack that split down the middle. The details of the day were fuzzy, but it taught Ragatha two things. One, her soft, stuffing-filled fist apparently has enough force in it to crack glass. Two, not enough to shatter it, as much as she hoped it did.

“I-I was having a moment...” She stammered.

“WELL, WELL, WELL! DON’T YOU KNOW HOW LONG IT TOOK ME TO MODEL THE GLASS OF THIS MIRROR?” Caine wagged his finger as if he’s scolding a puppy. “I’LL ONLY FIX IT ONCE YOU PAY ME A HEFTY AMOUNT OF TWO DIGITAL TOKENS.”

Ragatha blinked. “There’s digital tokens?”

“NOW THERE IS!” Caine threw his arms to the air. “YOUR NEGLIGENCE CAUSED A DIGITAL ECONOMY TO BE IMPLEMENTED WITHOUT NOTICE! EVERYONE IS GOING TO SINK INTO DIGITAL DEBT AND IT WILL BE YOUR FAULT!—

“BUT ENOUGH ABOUT ME!” He wrapped his arm around Ragatha, pulling her into a half-hug. “LET’S TALK ABOUT YOU!”

With that, Caine warped Ragatha out of her room, and dropped the ragdoll.

It took a moment for Ragatha to process her surroundings. The soft pinks of the walls have shifted to a vibrant orange, and she found herself laying down on a red couch, with Caine sitting on a chair across her. He didn’t need to tell Ragatha for her to know exactly what this is.

She quickly sat up. “I did not agree to this?”

“THE POINT OF AN INTERVENTION IS THAT YOU DON’T ALWAYS AGREE TO IT!”

Ragatha froze as if the word ‘intervention’ turned her nerves into ice. “L-Look, I swear I’m doing my daily affirmations.”

“NO, NO, NO! WE’RE NOT DOING THAT, MY DEAR!” Caine shook his head. “YOU SEE, YOUR SATISFACTION LEVELS HAVE DECLINED SUDDENLY!” A board clipped from the ceiling, sliding down to Caine’s side. “ACCORDING TO THIS GRAPH, IT WENT ON A DOWNHILL THE MOMENT POMNI SHOWED UP! IF I DIDN’T KNOW ANY BETTER, I WOULD’VE ASSUMED SHE’S CAUSING YOU A LOT OF TROUBLE!”

“Satisfaction... levels...”

“OB-VIOUS-LY, THERE MUST BE SOMETHING WITH MY ADVENTURES THAT’S MAKING YOU NOT LIKE THEM AS YOU USED TO!” Caine continued. “I’VE BEEN MAKING THEM QUALITY! CHANGING, IMPROVING, ARTIFYING... BUT I DIDN’T SEEK FEEDBACK FROM YOU, MY DARLING DOLLY!” He pointed at Ragatha. “WHAT COULD BE THE PROBLEM HERE?”

Ragatha rubbed her face. Usually, she would just brush it all off with a smile and a “Don’t worry about it!”, that always fended off Caine. But when Caine’s onto something—in this case, her decline—he’ll never let go of it until something is done. 

She finally let out a long sigh. She feels she’ll feel a little better piling her problems on an AI rather than a friend. “Well, there’s the usual. NPCs not wanting to talk to me and getting stabbed at least once, but that’s more of a me problem than an adventure problem.” said Ragatha, “It’s... everything outside of it, honestly.”

“UH HUH...” Caine jotted down notes on a notebook, now wearing rectangular-shaped glasses that magnified his heterochromatic irises. “AND WHAT COULD THOSE ‘EVERYTHING’ BE?”

“Where to start?” Ragatha laughed, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “Gangle’s very much finding an excuse to avoid me, Zooble’s being a grouch as usual, Kinger’s not all there, and don’t get me started on Jax!” She stopped herself, and took a deep, albeit shaky, breath. “And Pomni... God. All I want is for her to realize that I have feelings. What does she think she is, the main character? All she thinks about is herself, and nobody else.”

Ragatha clasped her hands over her eyes. Despite her words, her heart still beats for the jester. If Ragatha has to be honest, she’s not sure herself if she’s feeling the embers of attraction—or the desperation of wanting to be understood by the person who she has the least baggage with. “I just... I don’t know what to do at this point. I don’t have anyone to talk about this to—or anyone that I want to open up to.”

Every attempt at crawling out of the hole only sunk her deeper. Truthfully, she cannot see herself getting out of it. It might as well be her grave.

Caine put down the notebook. “SO, YOU’RE FEELING LONELY.” A huge oversimplification, yes, but he wasn’t incorrect. “OF COURSE I CAN DO SOMETHING ABOUT IT! GIVE YOU A TINY LITTLE FRIEND, LIKE THOSE ‘PETS’ THAT YOU PEOPLE LOVE SO MUCH!” He pressed close to Ragatha. “WHAT DO YOU WANT? A GLOINK? A SHMUNK? A CLUMPY?—”

“No, Caine!” Ragatha grunted. She doesn’t have the energy nor the patience to hide her annoyance right now. “I-I don’t want that! I need—ugh, what’s the point? You won’t understand either way.”

“I’M TRYING TO UNDERSTAND, RAGATHA!” Now even Caine’s getting miffed, throwing his hands at Ragatha’s direction as if she said something obscene. “I WANT TO HELP YOU, BUT I CAN’T DO THAT IF YOU’RE NOT LETTING ME!”

“Because I don’t want your help, alright?”

Silence fell over the room.

This turned out to not make her feel better in the slightest. She would appreciate it if Caine gave some words of reassurance or comfort—actually, comfort would be nice right now—but knowing him, he wouldn’t know what to say anyway. And Ragatha hates herself for putting that expectation on a robot, even if it was for a brief moment.

“I don’t want your help.” Ragatha repeated after a moment. “I appreciate that you want to, but... I think this is a problem I’ll have to deal with myself. You can just keep doing your adventuring stuff and all that.”

The silence only stretched longer, and Ragatha felt like the room was getting colder. Caine was just staring at her, his posture stiff; very unlike his usual animated self.

Then his teeth rattled.

This isn’t right. One of his members no longer likes his adventures, and he doesn’t know what to do about it! Sure, this isn’t too different from Zooble, who constantly skips out on the adventures, but that’s to be expected from Zooble. While the intervention made him (kind of) understand what Ragatha’s problem is, it didn’t get him any closer to fixing it.

He rattled his neurons for anything that could improve the situation, even a slightest bit. If Ragatha’s having problems with the other members, then he could...

“I GOT IT!” He snapped his fingers. “DON’T WORRY, YOU TERRIFIC TORTILLA, YOU’LL BE LONELY NO MORE AFTER THIS NEXT ADVENTURE!”

Ragatha’s eyes widened. “Wait, what? What are you—”

By Caine’s command, she was sent back to her room. The ringmaster’s already set on generating a new adventure. One that will surely bring everyone together.

Results of the intervention? Sure, the solution wasn’t as immediate as just giving Zooble a box of parts, but it was still a solution nonetheless. For now, he’s making something that will surely make his performers happy. Something that will definitely help with Ragatha’s problem.

He is going to fix this.

[yes-no-maybe-soo]

What Sylus can do with his Evol

(That we know of)

A few notes:

1. Sylus' Evol is Energy Manipulation. Which is a bit vague to interpret just what that encompasses, but if we take it to mean all form of energy then the implications of his powers become staggering and honestly pretty terrifying. Quite literally everything around us contain energy. As per Einstein's famous equation, E=mc², mass itself is a form of energy, ie simply having mass means an object has energy. Meaning that there might be no limit to what Sylus can control and manipulate, and this is supported by the original CN text of his anecdote, where his Evol is described as essentially all-encompassing and all-powerful.

2. This post is merely a list compiling all (or nearly all) that we have canonically seen Sylus do with his Evol. It is purely for enjoyment and to hype up our man. I will not go into details on the physics behind his power or anything like that – that I leave to more intelligent minds than mine. I'm just a gremlin who likes making lists and looking at details and (sometimes) connecting dots. Math and physics? Worst subjects in school ;-; would rather sit through 89 consecutive rounds of Find Tobias than one half hour of math.

3. If I missed anything on this list, don't hesitate to point it out to me!

4. I want to give huge thanks to @kookieluvs for kindly sending me the direct (fan) translation of Sylus' anecdote! It goes into more detail on Sylus' Evol than the localization (where things sadly seem to have gotten lost in translation) does, and really gives you a sense of how truly powerful (and frightening) it is. A link to the translation is included above, and I highly recommend you check it out!

Without further ado, here is the list of what Sylus canonically can do with his Evol

✧. Disintegrate fully grown men in a matter of seconds

Nothing is left behind of these men. No blood, no matter, no nothing. As though they never existed in the first place.

(He has also done the same to inanimate objects, like bullets)

✧. Create extremely powerful energy charges

The man actually punches a crater into the ground oml

✧. Create energy bursts

✧. Infuse his energy in weapons

✧. Create black holes(?!?!)

...do you see what I mean when I say that this power is lowkey frightening af?

✧. Transform his body into pure energy

Great for when he needs to dramatically leap off skyscrapers or old cathedrals. Taking the elevator or the stairs is for lesser men. Gotta make a memorable first impression, you know?

✧. Teleport (himself and others)

✧. Heal wounds in an instant

These wounds can range from minor cuts to bullet holes. Meaning that he can repair deep internal injuries and bleeding.

✧. Mend shirts

Yes. I'm deadass. Look at the images above.

✧. Evaporate blood

And presumably other liquids.

✧. Halt fatal internal diseases

We see him do this – rather brutally – to the twins in Mischief (World Underneath Story). The twins had 3 months left to live before that. They're alive and thriving over two years later.

✧. Summon people and objects to him/Levitate them

He will occasionally do this with plushies in the claw machine too, if you let him play and if he is feeling extra helpful. A (small but still important) portion of my affinity comes from Sylus summoning plushies in a color I hadn't gotten yet.

✧. Control and restrain others' movements

✧. Manipulate Objects

Another example of this is him shutting the doors in Philip's shop in the main story. Or unlocking the handcuffs in Midnight Stealth.

✧. Put out lights

He does this in chapter 3 of the anecdote

✧. Seal off entire areas

Does this as well in the same chapter as above

✧. Strangle

What he does to Sherman in the main story

✧.Change colours of flowers

And presumably of other things. I gotta be honest, this right here is to me one of the most insane things he can do because of what it implies about just how crazy powerful and encompassing his Evol truly is.

That's all I have for the strictly Evol driven powers (I have more than likely missed something, in which case I apologize 😔 I am only human. A very tired one at that. But like I said, there probably isn't a limit to what Sylus can manipulate anyway so... writing down every individual thing would be... a lot dhdjfj).

However.

I am not done.

I still want to quickly discuss a few more of his powers, because this man still isn't OP enough ig. But I put them in a sort of separate category since I am pretty sure they are not tied to his Evol but rather to his aether core and his demonic powers.

Anyway, to start off

Sylus can control/invade minds

This is only really touched upon in the anecdote as far as I can remember.

Those affected by this lose all awareness and consciousness of their surroundings for as long as Sylus wants them to. We learn that some of the victims were never quite the same again after. These details make it clear that this is not strictly mind control, but something deeper and more terrifying – a complete and total invasion of it.

Sylus can see people's innermost desires thanks to his aether core

He reveals this to MC in LAR.

Sylus can transform into a dragon

99.9% sure of this. Check out this post for more of my reasonings.

Sylus (or Stayrus) can resurrect the dead

"Even if your desire is to resurrect the people of the Ivory City, it's still within my capabilities" word for word what Sylus/Stayrus says in Beyond Cloudfall (Chapter 3). We don't know whether Sylus at present still has this ability or if it is affected by the tether/shackles that restrict his powers.

Which reminds me of one final thing...

All of the above that I have listed (excepting the final one), have been performed by Sylus in a nerfed state. He is unable to use his full powers due to above mentioned tethers/shackles. It's still a mystery when, how, and by who they were placed within him.

Sure would be nice to have some extra lore right about now don't you think, Paperfold?

Anyway, Sylus OP as fuck. His only true weakness is the love of his life. How that will play out only time will tell (actually I can tell you right now. They will marry and live happily ever after with their baby girls and with Mephie and the twins. The end. Trust.).

With this, I am finally done with this post. I hope you guys enjoyed it ♡

I myself will finally go to bed

_(´ω`_)⌒)_

[ovaryacted]

Literally what do you mean a grown ass (white woman) typed out some shitty mediocre excuse of an article for The Cut, listing some of the best fanfic for The Pitt WITH FUCKING AO3 LINKS TO PEOPLE’S ACCOUNTS? How on earth did we fucking get here when it comes to how we engage and view fanfic and fandom spaces?

Not only was that article just a disgrace, the way the author talked about fanfic writers as a whole as if they’re in the wrong for writing things on their free time, in addition to having microagressive and ableist commentary on said fics in dismissing Dr. Robby/Dr. Collins as the most popular ship in the fandom to then talking about writing Mel as a sexual being as if that’s not possible with neurodivergent individuals is really just so fucking disgusting…I don’t even have words to describe how I feel. Not to mention, this person also linked several Jamira/Mohabbit fics which have since been locked to only registered users, and even going as far as to mention a Dr. Abbot/Dr. Robby fic in the article feels like an egregious attempt at doxxing and shaming if I’m being honest.

Fanfic and fandom shouldn’t be mentioned in mainstream media under the guise of pop culture for the sake of clicks and attention. The reason why fandom & fanfic even exist is so people are able to engage with their favorite pieces of media in ways they can control and manage privately. It’s a safe space for people to build community with other like minded individuals and to share thoughts and joy about said media. There’s a found social contract when it comes to the general audience of things and fandom spaces, and mentioning fanfic in an online column as a journalist of all things breaks that trust and ruins the connection people have already built towards that particular type of media. It’s also a violation of privacy just mentioning and linking people’s fanfics in an article for the world to see when many don’t understand fandom culture and the authors didn’t consent to having their work publicized in that way. What gives you the right to do that if you hold no relationship with the authors directly?

Since the pandemic around 2020, the approach towards fandom spaces and fanfic as a whole has changed dramatically. People are more hostile and judgmental when it comes to what people write, how frequently they do and treat writers like content pumping machines because we’ve become so accustomed to fast paced consumerism. People lack boundaries between actors and the media they’re a part of or consume, they print out people’s fanfic works to “own” as if it’s their own; and now it’s progressed to people’s work being scrapped to train generative AI systems by the millions and journalists using their fanfic works to talk about the things people write, share, and engage with in their own free time for publicity or even money.

So many people are already being discouraged to write and share their writing in the first place, and with the way things are going, I won’t be surprised if people just flat out stop writing fanfic all together, or start sharing their writing as pdfs on encrypted messaging apps to people they trust. I don’t get what’s so hard about leaving fanfic writers and fandom communities alone, but if this isn’t a sign of the growing puritanical, conservative, and hyper surveillance nature in our culture, then I don’t know what else there is to say. I’m worried about the future of fanfic writing and creatives as a whole, I really am, and we are quickly running out of safe spaces to engage in fandom content overall. Frankly I don’t think we have any safe spaces left, and that’s terrifying.

[bubblegumgothglados]

We've been mutuals for quite some time and I've always respected your opinions on bdsm and in general, they're tend to be well written and thoughtful. So I'm going to very generously assume this is written in good faith and respond in kind.

1. I should have put a disclaimer talking about consent and communication being mandatory. Kinda thought I didn't have to? Kinda thought it was known that we don't do bdsm without communications and consent? I didn't put a consent warning on my fingernail pulling guide so why should I have to here? I've written about consent dozens of other places, should I put a disclaimer on every post? Or better yet between every paragraph? Between every word??? (I'm being shitty here and I know it, I probably should have written a short paragraph on consent and communication at the start of this post because things like this tend to leave the circle of people who know me and therefore know I'm a huge advocate for ethical kink)

2. Infantilization. Yeah my bad, I can totally see how it could be read that way and how that could make people uncomfortable. I've been a parent for that 12 years and a CG too so in relating things to my own experiences I can often be condescending and belittling. Any reminder to be mindful of that is appreciated.

3. They might not want to loose or they might seek situations where you both loose. Totally valid point, absolute miss on my behalf for not mentioning that and possibly over simplifying. Thank you

4. Me: describes a category of submissive. You: "yeah but what about {describes someone who doesn't fit into that category}". Sorry how is this a useful addition? What were you trying to say here? What, actually, was your point? Let me make this real clear; anyone who enjoys being bratty, not as a means to an end but in and of itself, is a type 3 by my definition. And like, if you don't think these are useful delineations then don't use them? But what I've found in my almost decade and a half of being a domme is that most submissives just want to obey and be good, and a reasonable portion of them have learnt one way or another that they can only get what they want by being bratty. But they're not actually enjoying it they're enjoying what it gets them and they'd be much happier if they could get what they want without having to be a brat. That's why I find it useful to look at their motives and figure out exactly why they are doing what they're doing. Which seems like a pretty harmless and easy to understand point. I could absolutely have written several paragraphs about the wide array of ways brats want to play or the emotions they want to play with, I didn't feel that was within the scope of what I wanted to say in this post.

5. "If either you or your dom don't like the game you're playing, change the game into something you both like". Couldn't agree more. Does not contradict my advice "if your brat is winning change the game" which maybe I need to elaborate on? What I'm trying to say here is it's easy to get caught "fighting" (in quotation marks because this is all consensual fun and games) on one axis, but you don't have to "fight" on the axis they're challenging you on, you can flip the script and verbally flank them "hitting" them where you know it'll have an effect.

As a final note I really do enjoy brats and brattiness, I enjoy struggling and fighting, I'd only want to help someone change for their own good in ways they want to change not against their will.

OK so brats

They're actually really easy to control once you understand their motivation. And generally I split them up into three groups.

1. Attachment issues. Brats in this category need constant reassurance that you love them but often can't communicate that to you. So they seek this reassurance by breaking rules to test if you care about them enough to put them in their place. It's not a game and it should be taken seriously. If you're consistent with your rules they will eventually learn that they are loved and will stop intentionally breaking rules. If you've ever parented a 2-4yo you know what I mean.

2. Masochists. These brats, some way or another, have learnt that the best way to get their dom to hurt them is by acting out. You can control these brats by: a) internalising that punishments aren't good tools for training. b) using pain as a reward. c) reassuring them that there's nothing wrong with wanting pain and rewarding them when they use their words.

3. Fucking Brats. These brats just enjoy fighting, they want you to fight back and they want to loose. You can control these brats by refusing to engage or by communicating to them that this is not the time and you don't want to fight right now. You can train the brat out of them by using disappointment but honestly if you don't also enjoy the fight then you probably shouldn't be playing with this type of brat.

Secret 4th option. Obedient submissives who just like to banter and have been labeled brats by people who have never experienced an actual brat.

And remember; if your brat is winning then change the game

[dresshistorynerd]

After looking up where this gorgeous box of New Kingdom linen from 3 500 years ago is held, I read further in the MET's online collection of these linens, and it's fascinating so I decided to share it with you. Apparently earliest known Egyptian funerary texts list linen cloth among important offerings for burials. Fabric was very expensive and viewed as an asset. Fine linens were increadibly expensive, so it's no wonder tombs of kings and queens would include boxes of fine linens as treasures for the royal's after-life journey.

And the linens the Egyptians produce were absolutely amazing. This linen from a chest in the tomb of Hatnefer and Ramose is mindblowing.

It's incredibly sheer, made from extremely fine thread and woven densely, which must have required expert skill and huge amount of labour. It's roughly 5 meters long and 1,6 meters wide, so it's absolutely massive, making it even more mind boggling how much work has gone to it. From the MET collection listing:

This sheet was woven of superfine thread that must have been spun from flax harvested when the plants were very young. The length of cloth would have taken months of constant industry to weave. [...] This cloth must be that described by the Egyptians as "royal linen," the highest quality. The sheerness of the featherweight fabric and its silken softness lend credence to New Kingdom representations of elaborately pleated garments that allow the contours of the body and even the color of the skin to show through. The cloth was repaired and laundered in ancient times.

It's fascinating, I didn't know you could get extremely fine thread by harvesting linen very young! This type of extremely fine linen simply is not made today and probably requires skills that are long lost. And it's incredible that it has survived more than 3 500 years after being used. The text of the MET listing implies that it was used as a clothing. The measurements of the cloth do lend itself for draping an elaborate pleated dress. It would've looked likely something like this.

Here's a modern interpretation on how this kind of long cloth in roughly these dimensions would have been draped.

Another incredible thing I found in the MET collection was this piece of linen.

It's not nearly as impressive as a textile as the royal linen, but this small (25.5 x 17.5 cm) folded piece of linen was found from a mass grave of soldiers from ca. 1961–1917 BC. That was almost 4 000 years ago. A 4 000 year old fabric. That is insane. Imagine the hands of a weaver weaving these specific threads into this specific fabric 4 000 years ago. Imagine touching the same threads a regular unknown weaver touched 4 000 year ago.

[torueater]

ROOMIE BENEFITS UNLOCKED ᝰ.ᐟ

a/n: i've had this in my drafts too long, it's now or never

Satoru knows you hear him when he cums. You know he does.

Brazen white haired bastard, those are the only words you can think of to describe him, though not as eloquent as it can be put.

You’d been as good about it as you can be, it’s not as though he did it day in day out, just occasionally during the week – you’d have your headphones in, volume low. pretending you don’t already have the sound of his moans memorized like a song, like you can’t hear him getting himself off. lips bitten, hand down your shorts to ease to growing ache of pleasure in your abdomen – shit, maybe you’re just as bad as satoru, just not as loud.

He’s always ridiculously shameless about it too  – deep groans, low breathless curses, the wet drag of his fist. Little praises like someone else’s there. It’s like he wanted you to hear him.

Which you do. Every single time without fail.

Once is mistake, twice is a coincidence. But more than 3 times? Pattern, sheer pattern. He has to know, if the knowing glint in his eye when morning came meant anything. His chirpy little ‘sleep well, roomie?’ that has the tips of your ears heating because no, obviously not. Grade a asshole. It’s already a struggle to fight the building attraction but now you know exactly how he sounds when he finishes, how whiny he gets.

Besides that, he wasn’t too bad, you’d gotten lucky in the roommate lottery, you suppose. Isn’t a bad friend either. At least he handles his shit with the door closed, right?

Tonight’s different though. You’d stepped out for a quarter of an hour at best to run to the convenience store -- he’d offered up his card to restock the snacks you like in the communal cupboard. you’d given him a time frame so there’s 0 good reason why his door is cracked when you get back in, fucking up into his fist with gentle strokes, no urgency at all.

"Fuck…just like that.”

Oh?

You halt midstep, frozen -- card in your hand and heartbeat in your throat.

The sight is much more than you’d expected. He’s so fucking pretty -- sweats low and bunched on his thighs, chest bared for the world to see. lashes settled against the paleness of his cheek, snowy strands mussed with a few sticking to his forehead. trimmed hairs that do match the drapes framing a pretty, lengthy—

You know what? Maybe you’d just wait till he finished. Retreat and resign to your room for a little, keeping the card with you. You didn’t need to be here, you shouldn’t even be looking. He’s jerking off and you’re just stood there – gosh, you feel like a perv.

“You just gonna stand there?”

It’s a little lazy sounding, a syrupy drag tinged with amusement. like this is some normal conversation. The card slackens in your hold as your breathing ceases momentarily, mouth parting to get out an excuse, a ramble of apologies.

“Y’re—oh fuck,” and he doesn’t even stop, eyes closed, head tipped to the ceiling now. as he squeezes at the head of his cock to ebb his pleasure. pearly cream smears near the pretty bulb with a light stroke, thumb stroking over a vein at the side. “fine. You’re fineee. come in, ’m not too busy.”

You do, you don’t know why you do. maybe it’s your body working quicker than your mind, one saying yes, other saying no type thing. He grins like he’d known you’d do just that, floorboards giving you away.

You try not to look, you really do but it’s right there. rigid girth held in a light grip, flushed head all soft and rosy. Glistening with what looks like either lube or spit (maybe both), heavy looking in his hand. “g’nna cum to it anyway,” he murmurs, “might as well get you in here to let you see the real thing.” Your eyes follow another pearlescent dribble from his head, eyes growing glossy, willing the dampness pooling between your thighs away. His words register late and you’re all hot in the face as you glance up at him, stumbling over words about needing to give him his card. “huh? I don’t…satoru, it’s not like that at all.”

And he laughs, all deep and rich, not helping the incessant throbbing between your thighs.

“You just happen to touch yourself exactly when i’m getting myself off? the walls are thin, pretty. I don’t think the pillows muffle the vibrations too well.” you wonder if there’s a quick way to dig a hole to just jump into. maybe if you fake a fainting spell he’d drop it? shitty fucking amazon vibrator – those reviews had clearly been a lie.

Satoru’s eyes open, all slow and heavy like he’s already drunk on the pleasure. Fuck, he loves this. loves the look on your face – all stunned, no words to say to explain yourself. “you’re not comin’?” And god he says it so breathily, you can’t help the instinctual press of your thighs, the bob of your throat with a harsh swallow.

“Aw, a little watching got you all wet?” He’d noticed. of course he had. “why don’t we help each other, hm? how about you take your panties off, pretty. let me see how wet I got you.”

It gives you a pause, panties uncomfortably damp, hot with..embarrassment? arousal? maybe the latter more than the former. "Bossy." Your hands are shaky as they skim the edges of your shorts, hooking under the smooth cottony band of your panties.

You don’t know why you’re just following his directives, walking out and pretending this didn’t happen would be just as easy as walking in had been.

But you don’t – you���ve been wanting to fuck him or at least touch him for ages, lying to yourself wouldn’t do anyone favors.

The plain pale gray, turned smoky and the center falls to the floor in a heap with your shorts, pressing the card onto the closest surface with a gentle movement. His gaze drops and he groans at the clear glisten between your thighs, thumb swiping over his tip, hips twitching slightly as he slows his strokes.

“C’mere,” he says again, softer this time.

You take a step, then a few more till you’re at the edge of the bed. his legs spread a little wider, chin angled down in a simple gesture. His strokes get slower, lazier. Teasing now, dragging out every wet sound, every twist of his wrist that has pearly dribbles spilling over his skin. You sink down to your knees so you’re settled between his thighs, fingers clenching and unclenching on the hardwood.

“There you are.” he croons, bringing his free hand back from gripping the sheets to brush stray hairs out your face, tipping your chin up.

“Say ahh, roomie.”

extra a/n: dropping and running. the rest of this was just sex and banter, still in my docs 🏃🏽‍♂️

[intertwinedheartss]

Love Written In Ink

ch I; New Scenery

“i’m not in love, so don’t forget it.”

pairing: librarian!nanami x f! reader

summary; nanami is known to be a man of a very few no words. he’s too busy working behind the front desk, rearranging and restocking the books, checking people in and out while giving a quick smile that wipes off just as quickly when they leave. that is until a certain someone skips (literally skips… what can you say? you were excited to check out the library your friend recommended to you) into the cozy library hidden in the corner of the small town, that makes his smile linger a little longer even after you’ve left. yet, he’s sure it’s just a phase, a chapter he isn’t interested in reading into…right?

chapter warnings: 18+ only!! grumpy x sunshine, stoic!nanami, bubbly!reader, nanami is rude at first (it won’t last too long…promise), slow burn, yearning

word count: 1.5k+

scrumptious nanami art by - @thatsallitchief

Quietness.

That’s the first thing you notice stepping into the small book-filled area. It’s something you should expect out of a place like this of course, but you can’t help but find it uncomfortable. Silent was never a word that was used to describe you, but hey… at least you were self aware.

The stale, sweet smell of yellowed pages fill your senses, as you fully enter the library. Shelves are against each wall, filled with books. No gaps are left in between as some books have resulted in being stacked on top of the lined up array. Worn down paper signs taped to certain sections of the shelves are used to tell which genre you’re looking at.

You make your way to the front desk, still taking in the new area. There’s not many people, which isn’t surprising considering it’s late afternoon on a Wednesday. There’s small 4-people tables scattered around the middle of the library, surrounded by shelves you have to walk around to even discover. Your fingers tangle with each other and fidget in front of you as you find yourself overly excited about the new scenery. You mentally check off the invisible task list in your head, “to locate a new spot”.

You had just finished rambling about a book you’ve recently finished to your friend, Lilly, surprised you were still capable of doing so, not having the time to even pick up a book since elementary. When mid-ramble Lilly cut you off, suggesting you visit the library. She claimed her new boyfriend took her on a date there and it seemed like your vibe.

You weren’t sure how true that was, considering you knew you could be a bit much at times and libraries were the last place you pictured yourself, but you decided to trust her judgment anyways.

You stand in front of the wooden desk, paper littering the top of it and a rolling chair occupies the other side. A chair you know for sure has to be super squeaky. Eventually you are greeted by an older man.

The first thing you notice is his height. He is fairly short, and a little hunched over probably due to age. The second thing you notice is his hair. The color scattered salt and pepper style, with one white strip to the side, in contrast to his darker complexion.

“Hi!” You greet, a little too enthusiastically, causing you to lightly clear your throat, as you hear a random “Sh” hidden among the maze of book shelves.

“hi..” You repeat, a lot quieter, paired with a small smile and slight wave of your hand.

The older man simply smiles at you, the crinkles in the corner of his eyes deepen. With a tilt of his head and a small quirk of his eyebrow, you can feel him analyze you.

“New here?” He simply asks after a beat of silence. You can feel yourself breathe again as the silence is broken, and you offer a genuine smile.

“To libraries, or here? Well I guess that doesn’t really matter since I’m new to both.” You cut yourself off, and immediately divert your attention towards the soft, carpeted floor. You realized that’s probably not what he meant and you don’t want to seem like an over enthusiastic fool, who’s never stepped foot in a library before. Well yea… It was true, but still.

The older man gives you a soft smile, and a slight wave of his hand. He turns towards the severely outdated computer sitting on the front desk, and begins to type something.

“Name, dear?” He asks, and you answer, slowly raising to your tippy-toes, trying to be nosy and peek at what he’s typing out. Before you could get even a glimpse he hits the enter button, and turns his back towards you, seemingly retrieving something.

You let out a small puff of air and take the time to glance around the library once more. You notice a small nook in the corner window, two bean bag chairs occupy it, and plants litter the windowsill. You smile to yourself already picturing you sitting there, you mentally claim the spot.

“Here you are” The older man hands you a plastic card. The library logo imprinted in bold on the front, with your name written shakingly in the middle.

“Thank you…” You take the card, and squint at his name tag to properly greet him.

“Daniel..Mr. Daniel” You finish your gratitude and slightly turn to your side to retrieve your wallet from your mini book bag, the front filled with pins and charms you’ve collected as souvenirs over the past couple years.

The older man calls out a name you’re too distracted to fully make out, as you put the card away and zip your bag back up.

You look up from your bag, having slung it back over your shoulders and are greeted with a much taller man. His blonde hair almost glistens under the dim, yellow lighting. He’s dressed in black slacks, and a white button up. His sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, and his fingers rest perched at each side of his hip.

You watch him interact with the older man, who you now know as Mr. Daniel. You want to always treat your elders with respect and given by his warm smile, you think he deserves the formal title.

You seem to have been lost in your mind again as the two men both turn to you. Mr. Daniel holds a small smile, while the Blonde simply gives you a bored, barely half-glanced look. He seems to be looking through you rather than at you, but you brush it off.

“I’m sorry?” You smile at the two men, and scrunch your eyebrows, hoping they would repeat what you seemed to have missed, too busy checking out assessing the Blonde man.

“What kind of books are you looking for today, my dear?” Mr.Daniel tilts his head towards you, waiting expectantly for your answer.

“Oh- right..uhm” You take a quick second, glancing around the various shelves.

“Maybe romance? or Sci-fi?…or both” You nod your head at yourself, happy with your own answer. You watch Mr. Daniel as he looks towards the Blonde man, tapping his shoulder.

“Show her around a little” He looks at the Blonde and nudges him towards you. “She’s new to our library, and we pride ourselves on being welcoming”

The Blonde simply glances at the older man, and nods. It comes out as more of a jerk of his head than anything. He doesn’t say a word, just brushes past you and begins to walk towards the intimidating bookshelf maze.

You take the hint to follow him, but as his tall legs expertly make their way around the endless shelves, you find yourself having to pick up your pace. It seems to not even make a difference as every step he takes, it takes you three.

You wonder if that’s why he chose to work at a library. His height giving him an automatic advantage to seeing over the shelves makes the job perfect.

He stops just as abruptly as he started, and you have to catch yourself from running into his stiff shoulders. “Here” He doesn’t even spare you a second glance, while vaguely gesturing to the shelf. “This is the romance section”

“Over there is the Sci-fi” He points over your shoulder, and your eyes follow his finger while nodding. “Thank you” You smile and tilt your head up at him.

You realize now that he’s not wearing a name tag, keeping up with his mysterious persona. “What’s your name?” His answer doesn’t come out in words, and the only thing he gives you is a slight step to the side, granting you more access to the books.

You walk to the front of the romance books and start to skim the spines. Despite the popular phrase “never judge a book by its cover” it’s really all you do. Well, to literal books anyway.

If the book cover is ugly you just can’t bring yourself to even pick it up, much less read it. You notice the Blonde hasn’t left yet, and you really aren’t looking for anything specific. So, ignoring your better judgment of the man wanting to be left alone at his job you speak up. “What do you recommend?”

He simply looks at you and for a second you consider that’s all he’ll do. “I’m kind of new to reading actual books, so really anything seems good but i don’t want just good. I need perfect” You explain to the man, hoping this time you’ll be met with an answer, but alas he gives you nothing other than a small twitch of the brow.

The silence lingers and all you do is try to smile through it. Have you done something wrong? Maybe he’s a top-secret underground singer and is saving his voice for his top-secret concert coming up. You giggle to yourself at the thought, which makes the man fully raise his eyebrow at you.

You realize now you have been staring at him, waiting for an answer then unexpectedly burst out into giggles. He probably thinks you’re a lunatic.

Getting the hint that you weren’t ever going to get an answer from him, you turn back to the shelf.

“Nanami” A gruff voice speaks up behind you. “Hm?” Turning your head towards him, you try your best to mask your shock as he’s the one who breaks the silence.

“My name is Nanami”

next chapter; …

a/n: ahhhh first chapter done!! enjoy, my beauties. i’ll try to post the next chapter later this week.

xoxo, ladybug