#I was already drawing this just decided to put some lyrics on it this time

[creamecream]

“There was this girl who was broken by the world, ‘cause every day at school they’d push and shove her,

But she had a plan,

One day she would get her revenge, and those cheerleaders and jocks would be six feet under,

But behind those angel eyes lies a devilish surprise,

The prom queen has killed for her crown,

Every boy and girl she seeks never comes back in one piece,

So be careful when she tries to ask you out,

She’s a motherfucking killer queen,

A psychopath at seventeen,

A beauty in a blood-stained dress,

She’ll fill your heart with kerosene and light you up ‘til you can’t breathe,

If you break her heart, you just might lose your head,”

[seangelfish]

What they do for White Day (pt.3)

❥ Featured characters: Hiiro Amagi, Leo Tsukinaga, Kanata Shinkai, Ibara Saegusa, Yuzuru Fushimi

❥ Tags: Fluff, established relationships/mutual crushes, stories are based on the !! era, no mention of pronouns

❥ A/N: The final part of my What they do for White Day Enstars special! I hope everyone has a wonderful White Day even if you don't celebrate it! Decided on these characters for last because 1. everyone likes Hiiro and Leo and 2. I haven't written for Kanata, Ibara and Yuzuru in such a long time!

Please check out part 1 and part 2 if you haven't already~

🤍 HIIRO AMAGI

This was Hiiro's first time celebrating Valentine's Day, so when you gifted him your chocolates after school, he was appreciative that you thought of him. He didn't understand the implications of the gift until you confessed your feelings which made him feel awkward as his cheeks blushed.

Deep down, he knew he liked you romantically too. That's why he stuck to you like glue, greeting you a lively good morning and helping you in any way he can.

But he didn't know that he had to reciprocate your gifts until Aira told him about White Day. He thought your confession had already established a relationship together, but if that's what the customs here are and if it would make you happy, then he'll do his best to make White Day a special day for you!

Thankfully, Aira was there to guide him so he wouldn't mess up. During lunch, he asked you to go meet him by the fountain where he gifted you a silver bracelet and a box of white chocolates. Surprisingly, he didn't need Aira's help in choosing the jewellery because he knew what looked best on you.

"Let me help you put it on!" he said happily. "There. Haha, it looks pretty, don't you think? Happy White Day, (Y/N). I hope we can celebrate even more holidays together!"

🤍 LEO TSUKINAGA

Leo jumped up and down excitedly when he received those Valentine's chocolates from you. He bragged about it the whole day, annoying the NEW DI idols in the process.

"Uwaaa! Thank you, (Y/N)!" he beamed, hugging you tightly. "Hahaha, I like you too, you know? What else should we do today? Should we go to..."

So a relationship was established with Leo almost immediately. The two of you were already close to begin with, so it wasn't too much of a surprise to others. Shockingly, he was a pretty attentive boyfriend. He always found time to check up on you during work and would provide you with drinks and snacks. Sometimes he'd leave notes, some of which were lyrics about you, and others were just stick drawings of the two of you.

These little things would always make you smile. Therefore, for White Day, Leo bought you a box of White Day-themed cookies that the two of you shared together. And of course, he had composed you a song so beautiful that it made you shed a few tears.

"Hahaha, Happy White Day, (Y/N)!" he exclaimed as he wiped your tears away. "I love you so so much! Anyway, is there anything else you'd like to do? We can do everything you want!"

🤍 KANATA SHINKAI

Kanata was new to the whole romance scene, so when you gifted him chocolates for Valentine's Day, he wondered what the occasion was.

"Oh, I see! So that's what you do on 'Valentine's Day'~" he said excitedly. "Thank you for the 'chocolates', (Y/N). Let's share them, okay~?"

However, that didn't mean he was oblivious to everything. He knew about White Day since Kaoru used to participate in it a lot back in school, so he had some idea of what to do. Additionally, he asked around because he wanted to give you, his lover, the best he could.

So on White Day, the two of you spent time together by the sea, lighting sparklers and giggling to each other's stories. He had gifted you a pearl necklace and a koi plushie from AOUMI Aquarium.

"Koi fishes symbolise love~" he explained, smiling from ear to ear. "I love you, (Y/N). Happy White Day!"

🤍 IBARA SAEGUSA

As he expected, the chocolates you made him for Valentine's Day were alluring and sweet, but what he liked most of all was the love letter you wrote for him. He would keep it in his pocket, rereading the contents when he took his short breaks at work. A smile would always appear when he did so which made coworkers wonder what he was reading.

He had planned everything out before White Day like it was a project that needed to be executed perfectly. He wrote down timeframes, date ideas, and gifts that you might like. Everything had its own section in his 'White Day' binder.

If he could give you everything in the world, he would.

On White Day, he took the day off so that the two of you were able to do everything on his schedule. First was to do an activity that you liked whether it was arts and crafts or something sports related. Second, he brought you on a lunch cruise where the two of you had lunch together on the river. However, when the third activity came, he realised you were getting tired, so he brought you home to relax and watch a movie together.

That was when he gifted you a silver necklace, and of course, he wasn't going to forget the big bouquet of white flowers he had ordered.

You appreciated everything he had done for you today even those he was kind of excessive.

"Happy White Day, my dearest (Y/N). I love you from the bottom of my heart. I hope today was satisfactory. Apologies if it was too much, but I hope we can do this again soon."

🤍 YUZURU FUSHIMI

Everyone knew you were childhood friends with Yuzuru, but they didn't expect you to hand him chocolates on Valentine's Day. Because you were so bold about it, you handed them to him in class resulting in cheers from friends and classmates. This embarrassed him greatly, but his heart had skipped a beat.

"Woo-woo!" Subaru whistled. "Congrats, Fusshi!"

He accepted your chocolates, thanking you for them, but he also scolded you for being so brash.

"I appreciate it, (Y/N), but don't do that again."

However, in private, he did accept your feelings. Unexpectedly, he had feelings for you too, but with how good he was at hiding them, you were left speechless – both figuratively and literally because he had left to go find Tori.

But he wasn't going to leave it at that. He wanted to do something for you too. After all, his purpose was to serve. On White Day, he gifted you a bento box he had cooked and white roses he grew and picked. It was sweet until he presented you with the last item – a drawing he did of you.

Nevertheless, it was cute.

"Happy White Day, (Y/N)," he smiled. "I've always loved you and will always keep loving you. I'm free after school, so let's go to that place you keep pestering me about."

Intro page | Ensemble Stars masterlist | Rules

[arcade-writing]

SparkMate

🍋NSFW

Pairing: (Transformers) Bumblebee x AFAB! GN! reader

Warning: robot sex, size kink, Bee has both genital, cum play, cum inflation, belly bulge, marking, Bee is a vibrator, reader is AFAB but no specified gender, omegaverse vibes, knotting, interspecies relationship, reader is human, praise kink, song lyrics used for dirty talk, Bee speaks through a radio

Bumblebee will be based off my own Au Of Transformers, Im rusty at drawing robots and mechs. So idk if I'll be able to draw him anytime soon but I kept him vague enough you can imagine different versions of him or even your own!. (Probably not Knightverse base)

Reader and Bee are both 20 (well him in human years)

"Has anyone seen Bee?"

You weren't met with an answer only knowing chuckles from the Autobots. You raised a brow as you looked up at them.

"What did you guys do this time?"

You put your hands on your hips as you send them a scolding look. Ready to hear what new prank they decided to do on the youngest bot. But they didn't spill - none of them held the same excitement or glee they usually did. You looked over to Optimus for help and he kneeled down, placing a hand out for you. You happily climbed on and he raised you to be eye level. He looked nervous as if he was caught doing something he shouldn't. As much as he was serious and calculating he was also a terrible liar when the fate of his kind wasn't at stake. Lying to the enemy? Easy. Lying to friends or family? God awful.

"Optimus…? What happened to Bee?"

Said bot cleared his throat as he looked at the others in hopes they'll chime in but they all dismissed him. Giving him a 'you can do it boss' as they all sat back and watched. He let out a sigh as he finally began to speak.

"He's experiencing what alot of our kind does at his age - when an autobot becomes an adult they are given- uh- cycles."

Your brow only raised further. Confused on what he meant. This only made him slump as he continued talking.

"Where ones spark seeks out another to bind with them, we call them sparkmates and until you find one the cycle will continue, it can cause the Autobot to become aggressive to possible threats to their spark bond and also— Ratchet shouldn't you explain this?"

Ratchet was already tired of his leader's unwillingness and awkward struggling. He rolled his eyes as he leaned down to more of your level. "Oh Primus." He muttered to himself as he moved.

"Bumblebee is experiencing what you humans would understand as a heat cycle, all Autobots experience this though how it may manifest varies, they are commonalities but some use combot as a way of bonding as an example - we are described as an asexual species but that doesn't mean we all unwilling to become intimate with ones sparkmates in a way humans often do."

"So- Bee is…..oh-" you couldn't even muster out the words. A hot flush reaching up to your cheeks down to the rest of your body. You didn't want to them to know what came to your mind. Pretending innocence as you gave him a questioning look.

"Is that why he's hiding away? Because he could start fighting people?"

"Oh sweet naive thing, Bee is not that kind of Bot, you should know that, he's hiding away because he is aroused." Ratchet patted you with one finger, standing back up to full height.

You flushed even harder. "He needs a Sparkmate, right? How long do these cycles last?"

"A month in your time." Ratchet confirmed. The bots were on earth so it made sense their bodies adjusted to different time zones.

"Ok yeah he definitely needs one - uh - do we just find another bot? Like- what do we do?"

You couldn't even believe it. Constantly horny for a whole month? Just the idea made you cringe. It was already frustrating enough but with no way to keep it at bay or have relief? Sounded horrible.

"I think you should visit him, see how he's feeling, this can be a very stressful time for bots, especially for the first time."

Optimus said, lowering you back down to the floor. A knowing tone lingering in his voice.

You looked unsure; what if he didn't want you there? He needed a mate. What if…he didn't want you to be his and that's why he's hiding. Not just from embarrassment but also because none of you were the one he wanted. You couldn't bond with him at all, you had no spark. You were probably the last person he wanted to be near him right now even if you are friends.

There was a sliver of hope in you. That he'd pick you and want you the way you wanted him. You loved Bee more than anything. But if he was in a heat cycle like that then what if he wasn't himself? Did something he'll regret - you didn't want to put him in that position.

"But- what if he-?"

"He will not do anything you won't want, we don't become mindless - just altered."

Optimuses words made you feel better but worry and insecurity still gnawed at you. Well, regardless of anything, your best friend is currently under a lot of stress right now and giving him your support is the least you can do. Even if he tells you to go away, you'll make sure he knows you are on his side and willing to help him find a mate or just listen to any issues be had. If it was anything similar to periods then he could really use that support.

You took in a breath and nodded your head. Marching off to Bee's room as Bulkhead let out a long whistle. You tried to dismiss the flames that licked at your cheeks but it was futile. Your heart was pounding hard against your ribs you were sure it would break.

Once you arrived you scanned your hand. Knocking on the wall as the door slid open. A voice announced your arrival and Bee let out a distressed whirr. The door slammed shut as you ventured further in. The whole room looked as it usually did, organised chaos everywhere but what surprised you were the low hanging cables surrounding what looked like a nest. All his cushions and blankets all tucked together to make a giant bed. Usually he would use his charging pod to sleep but it remained untouched.

The room was illuminated by the pod's blue glow, it mixed in the other lights that gleamed through the long vine like cable's. It seemed he put on all the night lights you gifted him. It made it feel like a peaceful disco. You wanted to laugh at the idea but then you heard another whirr. Reminding you of the situation.

"Bee? Are you feeling okay?" You called out, just stopping outside the nest.

"Ratchet and Optimus told me everything and I know it may be embarrassing but it's natural and I want you to know I'm here to support you - I know I'm no sparkmate but if you need me, I'm here."

Bee let out an annoyed buzz once the last sentence left your mouth. You hesitated, looking back at the door. You didn't want to deal with an aggressive Bumblebee. He may be the smallest but he was one of the best fighters in the team. Besides, you were a human. Just one flick could send you flying.

"Can I see you?" You asked, cringing at yourself knowing what you're doing is very stupid but Optimus said he wouldn't do anything you won't want. You can only hope that also includes violence.

As much as your brain wanted to focus on the fact he was horny and you were too - your gut tried to suppress it by focusing on fear instead. Hoping it would keep you on your toes instead of distracted and leading your actions with getting dick in mind.

There was a pause before he let out a defeated whirr. "come…in."

You inhaled a shaky breath before walking forward. Moving the cables out of your way as you got closer and closer. Stopping as you could finally peak through, eyes falling on Bumblebee's form. His antennae were drooping back as he looked at you with hooded eyes. His mask still covers the lower half of his face. Pillows were hugged close to his form to give him some decency as his fans hummed to life. You worried they were going to break from how intense they sounded.

"Hey, Bee, you holding up okay?"

He nodded. Lowering down so he was on all fours, still keeping himself flushed to a pillow which only made him squirm. You reached out and he leaned forward, letting you cup his face as his fans went even faster. He remained glue to your touch. Letting you smooth your palms over his head, his antennae twitching as his big eyes watched you.

"I'm sorry you have to deal with this, Can I try and help you find a mate-"

He let out a growl. The sound made your heart jump. It was deep and sounded strained, static lingering beneath. Okay, don't talk about mates, noted. You weren't sure how to handle this. It was all so confusing.

"You….my mate…."

You didn't know it was even possible to get any more flustered. You could hear your heart pounding in your ears as his words sunk in.

"How? I don't have a spark."

He nuzzled his face into your small palm as he reached for you. Pulling you closer with ease as your wobbly legs stumbled forward. "Mine."

The robot paused in his actions, still watching you as he let out a timid buzz. "Will you….be mine..?"

You nodded your head. Words Failing you as you stepped closer. Bee didn't say anything, suddenly pouncing towards you. Your back landed with a small 'thump' against his palm as he hovered over you. His mask retracted into his helmet as his face was finally visible to you. You loved his face, when he had his mask on he loved more robotic. You loved it just as much but his real face? It was smooth, dark grey in colour. Scars extending from his lips towards his ears, all left over from the incident where he lost his voice. Broken and ripped at by Decepticons. His eyes were also so wide with wonder and joy even after all he's been through. Shining a beautiful cyan. You loved seeing his real face the most.

"I trust you, Bee."

That gave him the reassurance he needed. His optics lowering down to the baggy shorts you were wearing, you squirmed under his gaze. Realising how you fit so perfectly in his hand. You leaned against two of his fingers; keeping you semi propped up. His thumb brushed against your thigh as it found its way between them. Scanning you up and down as your breath hitched. He found exactly what he was looking for as his thumb pressed down over your clothed core, the tip of his thumb on your clit. Rubbing slow tight circles as it vibrated in light waves.

Your back arched as you grabbed at his hand. Bucking your hips against him, needing more. Too many layers were in your way. Bee tilted his head as he watched you shift away from him, tugging on your shorts. He stopped his movements, worried he did something wrong but he was quickly proven wrong. Kicking your shorts and underwear as far as you could as you laid before him. Legs trembling as he could the shining slick coating your sex. He whirred as a smirk made its way on his face.

Bumblebee was a two sided coin. A warrior and a peacemaker. Shy but confident. He didn't know everything but he was just as good of a leader as Optimus. And as sweet as he was, he also had a cocky attitude. His ego easily stroked, just as easily as it was bruised.

And you knew that look in his optics. Pride swelling in his chest as he saw what he's done to you. You've barely started and yet you feel like a mess. Desperate for more.

"Keep going." You ordered, voice weaker than you wanted as you looked at his digit. It was still vibrating.

You knew he wanted to say something but he didn't. Just moving his thumb back and you let out a cry. Finally able to feel it properly, even now it still felt overwhelming. Able to feel it all over your sex as he tried to keep the focus on your bud.

If there was something Bee was talented for it was patience and watching. Due to being a scout he had a photographic memory and was able to wait days for a target. Even more so, he was built to not blink as much as the other bots. Needing to be able to see every detail and event which made his stare quite intense. It seemed even in this setting; he didn't plan on missing a single thing.

"Can you- Can you use your mouth?" He looked at his thumb and then back at your face. He understood what you meant and smiled. Letting out an excited buzz as he removed his thumb. Raising his hand enough to be comfortable as he rested his chin against the ball of his palm.

Nudging your legs open with his head with ease. You whined at how far you had to widen them, moving them to wrap against the curves of his helmet to get more comfortable. He pressed his lips against you, humming a song you recognized. Moments silence by Hozier, it wasn't Bee's normal taste in music but he enjoyed the song. You remember when you had to explain what it meant to him and he only buzzed. Adding it to his playlist.

It started off slow. Catching your breath as you grinded against his mouth. Sinking into his palm as your legs twitched. Humming along as the vibrations traveled from his throat to his tongue. Lapping at your juices as it engulfed your sex. Sucking on your clit as the chorus played, the intensity going from 0 to 100 too fast making you scream. You couldn't stop panting as the song went back to a slow melody. The peak of your orgasm just hanging by the thread as it slowly went away.

You were just about to catch what he was doing, grinding against the pillow he had pressed against him. His antennae twitching as he let out a low whirr. Trying to move his hips as discreetly as he could.

"Feels good, doesn't it, honey? Keep doing that, I want you to cum with me."

Bee let out a loud buzz. Obviously flustered from your words as he adjusted his hips. You looked down, straining your vision to see a faint blue glow. The head of his spike poked out from the plump pillow.

You whined. Bucking your hips against him, feeling the curve of his 'nose' nudge your clit as his tongue delved into your hole. "Bee- please - need to cum."

He buzzed as he pressed his face as flush as he could against you. Working you back up until the chorus struck you again. A loud string of whimpers escaped your trembling lips as you felt the peak flood back. Crashing against you as your back arched. Desperately grabbing at something to hold, finding his antenna the perfect thing. White flashed before your eyes as you came.

"Good boy, good- good Bee." You lazily patted against his helmet, he whirred at your praise. You felt like your soul was sucked out of you. Eyes fluttering as he moved you back to the nest.

Watching as you wiggled into the blanket's with a hum. He let out a noise of concern but you just cupped his face. Bringing him closer to you as you smiled. "I'm okay, I'm just a little tired."

He nodded but let out a strained whine as he accidentally brushed against the pillow. You were able to see it better now, its size made your heart slam against your chest. Stomach fluttering as you watched the way it twitched under your gaze. Girthy too, thicker than your entire thigh.

As if by magic you felt your energy sprung back inside you.

"You didn't get to cum, did you, Bee? Come here." You cooed, noticing the way he tried to keep moving his hips.

You ushered him closer, he let out an embarrassed buzz as his spike pressed against your clothed stomach. It reached your collarbone. You tried to bite back the moan that threatened to escape you.

You patted his chest plate as you tried to figure out how you were going to do this. Smiling to yourself as he shivered at your touch. His chest was always sensitive due to that's where his spark hid but this was new.

"Roll over Bee."

There was no hesitance. He immediately rolled over onto his back. Watching as you crawled between his legs and got yourself comfortable. Moving a pillow against you to prop you up better. At this angle you could finally see him in all his glory. His spike stood proud but what caught your attention was the plump folds underneath it. Glowing a gorgeous cyan like his eyes. You couldn't stop the drool forming in your mouth. Watching his hole clench under your gaze, completely in awe.

"Oh, Honey, what's this?" You teased, trailing your fingers along his folds. He let out a static filled noise, lips trembling tight together as he tilted his hips into your touch.

You plunged two fingers in, amazed by how soft it was inside. Spongy like rubber but didn't feel like it. Your fingertips felt like they were electric, a tingling sensation coating your fingers. You looked up at Bee who was covered in a dark blue-ish grey blush. Wrapping your arm around his spike as your hands couldn't even wrap around it. Jerking him off as you hugged it closed to your chest. Lowering your head to suck on the head of his spike making him jolt.

You were able to add two more fingers, fastening your pace as his fans turned up to the max. His legs twitching but trying not to move in fear he might accidentally kick you. His back arched as he thrusted upward. Loving how tight your arm was holding him.

Still sucking along what you could. Dragging your tongue along the blue lines that went around his spike like rings. He let out another loud static sound, fingers digging into the blanket's, surely ripping a few in the process.

"Making me……feel..so good!"

He didn't get time to say anything as you pulled the tip into your mouth. Watching the way you could just barely fit it in already- the warmth from your mouth. Feeling your tongue press against him. Curling your fingers inside as you did. It was too much-! His thick load shot down your throat, your eyes widening as you jumped. You gulped down what you could but there was just too much. Pulling yourself off with a wet pop as more cum squirted out. Your chest and face got splattered.

He let out a high pitched buzz as he scrambled up. Grabbing a thin blanket to wipe away his mess. You grabbed his finger and he immediately froze.

You battered your eyelashes at him, making him tilt his head. Opening your mouth as you roll out your tongue. Letting him see just how much he cummed in your mouth. It was all still there on your tongue. It felt like pop rocks.

"You… look good like this.."

There was your Bee. You could sense a shift in him. His anxious state melted away as you made a show of it. Grabbing the thick mess on your chest with a few fingers and sucking on them. Humming as you did.

"Dirty little..human."

He picked you up with ease. Ripping at your chest as you let out a yelp. Placing you on his stomach as you could just about straddle him. Your face was still covered in his cum but he had an idea. Smearing off what he could and began rubbing it down your chest. The pads of his thumbs rolling your nipples as the electric feeling coated them. Making you squirm at the small sparks that now covered your body.

"Why can’t I keep my fingers off you, baby?I want you."

if you weren't Unbearably horny you would have laughed at him playing Beyonce.

His finger moved around, down to your ass. Giving it a small light tap that made you clench. Another small demonstration of how much more powerful he is than you. To him that was nothing but you could feel the light sting. It made you tremble in delight knowing despite this it wasn't too long ago he was whimpering under your touch.

The pressure of his hand made you lean forward. Adjusting yourself so his chest plate didn't dig into your stomach. His finger running against your sex. Covering it in as much cum as he could. The drag of his digit made you gasp as it brushed on your sensitive bud. The very tip of his finger prodding into your hole.

"Open up on the inside, gonna fill you up, gonna make you cry."

The song lyrics caught you by surprise. Flushing as he kept a slow pace. Working you open as you clutched at his chest plate. Rolling your hips back to get more of him. Even just a finger was too much.

He was so big.

He didn't even get down to his knuckle and you felt utterly full. Crying out as he thrusted his finger in faster. Hearing how wet you were with each sloppy squelch.

"Excited?" He teased, already knowing the answer. You hid your face into his chest plate, tears sparkling in your eyes as he kept fucking you as deep as he could.

"Dont- don't tease! You know I want you."

He let out a purr in content. Happy to hear you say it. You only felt your head spin as you peered back. Watching the way his finger sinked into you. Your eyes drifting to his spike.

How would you even be able to take his spike? Would it even fit? Could it even fit?! But yet, the idea of it all only turned you on more. You were just barely able to process the movement of his chest, revealing his spark just enough for you to see it. You sat up making him hit right into your g-spot. Jolting in surprise and pleasure as you let out a moan.

"Your spark-"

You couldn't even speak without becoming breathless. Whining as he removed his finger and scrunched himself up as he semi sat up. You sex pressed along his spike as you were forced to move back making you both moan.

He positioned it to your entrance, guiding your body up so he could put it in properly. Watching you squirm as you rubbed your soaked folds along the tip. What was left of his cum was still dribbling down his spike making it lubricated enough for you to move.

His thumb came back to your clit, sending a low vibration to it all over again. Holding your hip with the rest of his hand as you sank down. The fat head of his spike just pushed in with a small grunt. It felt like centuries. Slowly moving lower and lower as you feel yourself get completely stretched out. Trying not to clench down and keep your breathing steady as he kept playing with your clit.

You let out a strained gasp as you felt yourself completely sink down to the base. Both of you stilled as you got adjusted to the sensation. Bee was whimpering as he used all his will power to not jerk his hips. If you kept clenching around him like that he was sure he was going to cum again.

He held your hips with one hand, keeping one finger under your ass and the rest on your hips and his thumb remained on your clit. You did your best to move on your own, keeping a steady pace up and down. Each hit hitting your pleasure spot as you arched your back. Clawing at his chest plate as his spark reached out for you. Sparks of electricity running up your arms as you mewled. It was warm, leaving a tingling sensation in its wake. It caresses your skin as it seeps into your very being.

Your pleasure doubled as if you could feel his own. With heavy eyelids you looked at him. Your mouth parted as a light trail of drool dripped from your tongue. The tears that beaded in your eyes became fat drops as you slammed your hips down. Unable to reach the base due to him supporting your ass. You slapped at the finger as you couldn't stop strings of moans flying out.

He got the message and moved his finger. Letting you bounce to the base. His fingers dug into your flesh as you grew closer to your peak. For sure leaving large bruises but at this point you couldn't care. You were happy to show off any mark he left you.

"Good Bee, so good- going to make me cum."

He whimpered at your words. You latched onto his antennae, which he bent towards you, completely stretching out your body as he ducked his head. You were able to pull yourself up until the tip was the only thing left before slamming your back down. The sudden fullness made the tightening cord in your gut snap.

Throwing your head back as your fingers brushed against his helmet. Grabbing at his thighs as he held you up. Your orgasm left your head dizzy. Falling back as he thrusted up. Chasing his own release, as he whirred.

"Mine." He growled out as he pushed down. Snapping his hips into you. His orgasm is just as strong as the one before. Completely coating your walls. Whispering as he fucked it into you.

What made your head snap down was the feeling of his spike bulging inside you. Right at the bottom, locking you in place. His thumb brushed along your stomach making you follow his movements. Whining as you saw your stomach bulge out. Pressing your own hand to your belly to feel the head of his spike. The bump growing ever so slightly as more of his cum pumped into you.

"Is this normal?" You gestured to the bump peaking out of your sex. Lifting yourself not to much avail as you were completely locked to him.

He nodded his head. Looking bashful as he kept caressing your stomach. You smiled at him as you pressed your face to his chest plate. His sparks energy still threading into your veins keeping you in a constant glow. Absolutely hazy from the pleasure.

"Thank you for choosing me to be your Sparkmate."

He shook his head. "Perfect…for me…" thanking his flexibility as he completely towered over you. Tilting your head back, pressing his lips to yours. Or atleast, due to his size, his top lip whilst the rest was pressed against your chin.

You giggled into the kiss as you grabbed his helmet. Scratching under his antennae making him purr. His tongue poked your lip and you happily let it in, choking around it as he put only half of it in. It was able to touch every inch of your mouth, feeling the tip in your throat.

Your lips hungrily moving against his, clawing at his helmet as you breathed through your nose. You felt the knot grow tighter as he muffled your moans. When you finally parted you were left panting. Shakily gulping up air. Flopping down against his chest where you traced your fingers along the plating around his spark.

"So….um- how long are we going to be connected like this." You bashfully asked, fumbling with your words as you noticed a flicker in his optics.

"Not that I don't enjoy it-! I'm just wondering!"

"I don't know…" He paused, hugging you close to his chest as he suddenly moved on all fours. Pushing pillows underneath you so you're fully supported and propped up.

"But maybe… another round..could… loosen it up."

You let out a small noise as you trembled. A familiar throb coming back as you grabbed at his chest. "O-okay-!"

Ratchet leaned away from the door. Just missing the sound you made as Bumblebee started moving.

He coughed into his hand and looked at the other bots. "They seem to be doing just fine, I think it's best we leave them for the next….few hours."

[ab4eva]

‘Tomorrow Will Be Too Late’

Part 3

Summary: Elvis Presley x Reader / For as long as you can remember, you’ve loved two things - Elvis Presley and time travel. After seeing the 1968 Comeback Special for the first time, you decide to try and get back to him for one incredible night, by any means necessary.

Author’s note: I’m starting to realize not everyone is as into time travel as me lol I promise you this is very very light on the sci-fi and very heavy on Elvis and reader.

Warnings: NSFW - 18+ only. Language, infidelity, p in v, oral (m. receiving), fingering, spanking, daddy kink, angry Elvis.

Word count: 5,396

TWBTL Masterlist

-

Morning sunlight peeks through the curtains and you squeeze your closed eyes tighter against it. You feel a warm presence behind you, legs curled into the back of yours, a heavy arm draped across your middle and a large hand lightly cupping one of your breasts. The events of last night come flooding back to you and your nipple under his hand, Elvis’s hand, stiffens to a peak. After you had lost yourself, first to your tears and then to Elvis, you had lain awake with him into the wee hours of the morning, tangled up in the bedsheets and each other, talking. You heard about his nerves preparing for the Christmas special and his fears about how his fans would receive him - or if they even would. He talked about his worries that he was no longer relevant, just some washed up singer and actor the older crowd was into. You had tried to reassure him, as best you could, that his fears were unfounded. You knew, of course, the end result. But you couldn’t exactly tell him what you knew, because then that would lead to how you knew. And you didn’t think Elvis was ready for that. You told him about yourself, where you grew up and about your family. Those things were fact and you happily shared them, wanting to give some small, true piece of yourself to him. He teased you sweetly about how you had met in the hallway yesterday, saying you were the first girl that truly fell for him. A familiarity had enveloped you both, a camaraderie, as if you were the only two people in the world. A Taylor Swift lyric floated through your head at one point and you spoke it out loud, to Elvis’s delight.

“Have I known you twenty seconds, or twenty years,” you had murmured, laying on your stomach next to him, lightly tracing his features - eyebrows, eyes, nose, lips, chin and back again. His long body was stretched out and relaxed, an arm folded beneath his head as he looked up at you, the fingers of his other hand skimmed delicately across the skin of your shoulder. His eyes had lit up at that and a smile played at the corners of his mouth.

“I was just thinkin’ the same thing, only not in so many words. But I love the way you put it, honey, very poetic.”

Elvis stirs a little behind you and your thoughts return to the present. You keep very still, enjoying the feeling of his skin on your skin, his body pressed all along yours. You would stay here forever if you could, in this sweet communion, this closeness that rivals everything you’ve ever had with someone else. He’s breathing softly near your ear and his breath stirs a piece of hair that tickles your cheek. You try to ignore the itch that is now begging to be scratched, unwilling to end this idyllic moment. You try and hold out for as long as you can before you reach up and scratch your cheek, causing Elvis to grip your breast tighter. He stretches and sighs before burying his head in the crook of your shoulder and rutting his hips a little against your backside. He’s already semi-hard and you push your rear end back into him and he groans sleepily, moving his hand down to your waist to draw you nearer. You feel the scratch of his stubble as he begins planting open-mouthed kisses across your shoulder and down your arm. You reach a hand back and grab a handful of his hair as he continues his assault. A hand trails down your thigh, making you jump a little, before he takes hold of your knee and draws your leg back over his own, granting him access to your soaking heat. He cups your mound and teases your folds with a long, delicate finger.

“Already so wet for me, baby? Mmm,” he hums sleepily against your shoulder and you feel his smile. Your head arches back against him as he makes contact with your sensitive clit for a moment, your breath stuttering. His other hand slips underneath your body to your breast, running his knuckles back and forth over your hard nipple. You buck against him at the sensation and he inhales sharply. He dips one finger, then two, inside of you, his other hand still teasing your breast. He slowly pumps his fingers in and out and all of your concentration zeros in on the feeling of the drag of his digits inside you, as you tighten around him. Your lips fall open and you breathe little sighs that seem to spur him on. His palm finds your aching bud and he gently adds pressure, causing you to buck your hips again. He buries his head in your neck once more and starts to suck, using his tongue and his teeth. It’s almost too much - his hand on your breast, his mouth on your skin, his fingers moving inside you with a steady rhythm, curling up to hit the most delicious spot. The fact that he’s touching you, so intimately, with such familiarity only adds to your euphoria. It sends you hurtling towards the edge, then over it. You clench fiercely around his fingers, sucking them back in and trapping them at the knuckle, keening out his name like a prayer, a curse, a plea. He gathers you to his chest with his other arm, holding you close against him as you ride out your orgasm, finally collapsing back against him, spent.

“Good mornin’ to you too, baby,” he rumbles in your ear, the feeling reverberating against your back as you try and catch your breath, still coming down from your high. He rolls you over onto your back like a rag doll and moves to hover over you, the weight of his body pinning you to the bed. Your legs instinctively open to him and he settles between your thighs.

“Goddamn, Elvis,” you gasp, heart still racing, face flushed and eyes unfocused. He rakes you over with his eyes, hunger burning hotly in them, before trailing kisses across your face, kissing everywhere but where you really need him - your mouth. You try and catch his lips with yours but he’s too quick and pulls back to smirk at you. You focus on his plump, swollen lips before raising your eyes to meet his blue ones, silently pleading with him. He gives you a look that you can’t quite read, like he’s trying to figure something out, his eyes searching yours. Whatever it is must pass because he leisurely lowers his mouth to yours, finally. He’s in no hurry as he nips and licks and sucks at your mouth, your lips, your tongue. It’s the most sensual thing you’ve ever experienced and a fever blooms in your head, your chest, your belly. You feel his rock hard length against your stomach and reach down to take him in your hand, locking your eyes into his. You move your hand up and down at a measured pace, thumb grazing his engorged tip and he hisses through his teeth. He thrusts his hips into your hand and groans softly, his head dropping to your forehead. You kiss him hungrily then move your ministrations to his jaw, his shoulder, biting softly.

“Please…Elvis,” you beg in a whisper, “I need you. Inside me.” He doesn’t make you wait long before he takes himself from your hand, finds your slick entrance and slides home, filling you to the brim as he did last night. You let out the breath you’ve been holding as he starts rocking in and out at an agonizingly slow pace, every time he leaves you empty it seems to take an eternity for him to return and fill you. The pleasure is so unbearable that tears well up in your eyes and you can’t help the strangled whine that falls from your lips. You’re clawing at his shoulders, his back, his hips, needing more than what he’s giving you. This urges Elvis on and he grips your hip, slamming harder into you, driving in and out, his slow movements becoming faster and more desperate now. He draws one of your legs up and over his forearm, bringing you impossibly close to him, the new angle sending you into a tailspin, your head thrashing from side to side on the pillow, your breath all but gone. Your fingers find your clit and almost immediately you’re clenching around him so hard he jerks to a momentary stop, choking out a grunt and then re-doubling his efforts as he keeps pumping into you. You grab his hair, making him look at you, fighting to hold his gaze as you fall apart, wanting more than anything to feel connected to him in this moment. His eyes are wild and sweet as they watch you come undone. Not long after, his eyebrows furrow and he grits his teeth as he finds his release deep inside you, still staring into your eyes like they’re the last thing he’ll ever see. His warmth spills into you as you cling to his broad shoulders, one hand cradling his cheek as he trembles and finally crumples, rolling onto his back and pulling you with him, tucking you into his chest.

Neither of you speak for a moment, too exhausted to to string words together. For your part, you’re feeling emotional and slightly fragile, lost in the innumerable thoughts swirling in your mind. You hadn’t anticipated the actual toll this would all take on you, but it’s hitting like a ton of bricks now and you turn cold at the thought it will be over soon. You can’t stay here forever, as much as you would like to. You start to shiver uncontrollably and Elvis pulls you closer, covering you both with a blanket.

“You ok, darlin’?” He whispers against your head, his lips resting in your hair. He rubs your arm to warm you up and you just lay there shaking, unable to stop, unable to speak. Tears threaten to fall but you keep them at bay, closing your eyes and breathing to try and calm yourself.

“Yeah, baby. I’m ok,” you say, forcing your voice to take on a normal tone. “Better than ok.” You snuggle into his arms, trying to enjoy the moment. “Oh and I was thinking… do you think maybe…” you pause and he looks down at you.

“What?” He says, eyebrow quirking up.

“Maybe you could wear the leather outfit back here tonight?” You’re blushing and he knows it.

He chuckles out loud, deep and amused. “You’re a dark horse, Y/N. Anybody ever tell you that? I’ll see what I can do.”

From there your day passes in a blur. Elvis is needed on set by 11am and leaves you behind at the hotel to get ready, having ordered some dresses to be sent to the suite. You hadn’t brought any other clothes with you, planning on only staying one night. It was easy really, Elvis assuming you were staying at another hotel and choosing to have some options brought up for you from the hotel boutique, it was just easier that way he said. He gives you a quick peck on the mouth and lingers just a little, enough to promise that there’s more where that came from, later. He arranges for a car to pick you up and take to you the studio, where Jerry will ensure you’re seated in the audience for the taping. You end up being close to the stage, where you can see Elvis and he can see you, but far enough away where you don’t draw attention to yourself. It’s one of the most thrilling things you’ve ever experienced. You didn’t expect to actually get to see Elvis, in his element, up close and personal. His connection to the audience is unparalleled, he feeds off their energy and love. You can see it in his movements, his voice, the way his enthusiasm builds with every song. By the end, he’s buzzing, almost levitating off the stage floor. The audience is in a frenzy and Elvis in heaven. He’s made eye contact with you a few times, and every time it happens a shot of adrenaline shoots through your veins, setting you on fire, eating you from the inside.

So when you find yourself back in his hotel room later that night, waiting anxiously for him to walk through the door once more, you practically throw yourself on him the minute he does. He’s clad in head-to-toe leather, hair slightly mussed and a cheeky grin on his chiseled face. You’re so aroused from the events of the day and it feels like it’s been an eternity since you’ve kissed him, felt his soft, pliant lips against yours. He groans into your mouth and wraps his arms around you.

“Every time I saw you in the audience today I was so turned on I thought I might come, right then and there,” he says, unashamed. Your face flames at the very thought and he pulls you in for another kiss. “But I didn’t, I saved it for you, baby. All for you.” The telephone rings and Elvis pulls away momentarily, which annoys you to no end. You just finally got him to yourself again, after having to share him all day with other people, having to keep your distance and wait while he finished things up after filming. You entwine your fingers through his jet-black locks and pull his mouth back to yours, crushing his plump lips with your own. His hands find purchase on your hips and he pulls you into him roughly, slamming you against him, as you wrap a leg around one of his, keeping him locked in your embrace. The phone continues to shrill and he reluctantly breaks the kiss again, removing your leg and untangling your hands from his hair, holding them away from his body. You whine a little and he gives you a smirk, slightly shaking his head.

“Sorry honey, I gotta answer. Could be important, the boys know not to disturb me unless they absolutely have to.” He releases you and walks over to pick up the phone on the sixth ring, and you can tell he’s slightly annoyed at being interrupted right as things are heating up.

“What?” He demands rather harshly into the phone. “Oh, sorry baby…I didn’t realize it was you.” Your heart drops to your stomach as you realize who it must be and for a moment you’re overcome with guilt, sick at what you’re doing. It’s true he would be doing it with someone else if it wasn’t you, he’s no angel and you know this. But still. You never thought you’d be a home wrecker. A hussy. The other woman.

“Honey, I’m sorry, I can’t right now, the guys have me going over the schedule for tomorrow…mm hmm.” He sits down on the side of the bed and listens for moment, holding up a finger to let you know he’ll be a minute. You’re not interested in listening to him though, you’re so needy in this moment and you’re not exactly sure why. You drop to your knees on the plush carpet and slowly start to crawl towards him, unable to stay away for even a minute. He lifts an eyebrow and inhales a sharp breath, then shakes his head once, hard. NO. You suddenly feel possessive of him, like he belongs to you and no one else. Like you have every right to be here, every right to touch him now - when you want and how you want, wife be damned. Even though you have absolutely no right to feel this way, absolutely no claim on this man. But you don’t stop crawling on your hands and knees to him. He lifts a booted foot and places it on your shoulder, trying in vain to hold you back, giving you a look of warning as he does. You look up at him, mouth parted and eyes lidded and place your hands on his leather-clad leg, inching them slowly up to his sturdy thigh, and simply moving it out of the way. You kneel between his legs and lay your head in his lap.

He jerks a little at that, his voice faltering mid-sentence for a moment and he tries to move away from you, to create a little distance but you just move with him. You sit up fully on your knees, running your hands over his chest and nuzzling his neck, taking the earlobe not occupied by the phone in your mouth and sucking. He takes a ragged breath and stands up suddenly, knocking you on your backside, your elbows catching you before you fully hit the ground, and your mouth falls open in shock and hurt. He starts to pace a small distance in the room, taking the phone with him. You look up at him from the floor, glowering, your eyebrows drawn together and a frown on your pretty face. He just looks back at you, equal parts annoyed and turned on.

“Listen, I’m sorry darlin’, I just won’t be home tonight. We’ve got so much work to do for tomorrow,” the lie rolls easily off his tongue and that gives you pause. You knew this must have been something he was used to, something he did often. But to see it so blatantly play out in front of your eyes stirs mixed feelings. You had read about him and all the women he had been with over the years but in that context it was always in the past and long since over. Yet here you were, in the middle of it. A chill snakes up your spine before you’re pulled back to the present, Elvis still on the phone.

You pout on the floor where he left you, shooting him daggers with your eyes. He shoots them right back, still talking to her and more than a little peeved it seems. You know you should have been patient, waited for him to finish his call. With his wife. But you couldn’t help it, you needed him. Needed to be close to him, needed to feel him, to touch him. And he just…walked away. He pushed you off and ignored you. More than that he knocked you over. Accidentally, of course, but that doesn’t stop the hurt you feel. The annoyance. Why? It’s something so minor, technically you’re the one at fault here, but it eats away at you for some reason. This possessiveness you feel for him is new. It’s so unlike you. You’ve always been at ease with yourself - confident, self-assured. At ease with the men in your life - not clingy, not jealous, not caring if they talk to other women. So why are you acting this way with Elvis? There’s something niggling at the corner of your brain but you’re not sure what it is. Your thoughts are interrupted as you hear Elvis begin to wrap up his phone call.

You stand up quickly and walk to the bathroom, looking over your shoulder and shooting him a mean look as you saunter away. His eyes burn into yours and it shoots lightening through your body. You stand in the doorway and as soon as he hangs up the phone, you look him right in the eyes and slam the bathroom door. Loudly. Then you lock it. Let him try and ignore you now.

“Goddamnit!” You hear him roar and that has you shaking a little - from fear or arousal or both, you can’t be sure. His heavy footsteps grow closer and stop outside the bathroom as the doorknob turns uselessly. You hear him growl lowly before a fist lands on the door and makes you jump.

“Y/N, goddamnit, open this door right now!” He bangs again, it shakes the door and for a minute you’re actually scared he might try and bust it down.

“No.” It’s a statement. A refusal. A challenge. You’re being a brat, you know, but you can’t help it. There’s something inside of you pushing you towards the edge of whatever cliff this is and you are powerless to stop it. It’s deathly quiet on the other side of the door. Your heart beats a quick thrum in your chest and you place a hand over it, hoping to slow it down a bit. What the hell are you doing? You’ve never acted like this in your entire life, not once, and now you’re playing some sort of sick game with Elvis? This is not what you came here for.

“Y/N, you better open this goddamn door right now or so help me god… I will break it down,” he says through gritted teeth, control wavering in his words. Your blood runs cold and you know he means it. You don’t know much but you do know that what Elvis wants, Elvis gets. No matter what it takes. Not matter what he has to do to get it. You’ve read enough about him to know this is true. So you believe him when he says he’ll break the door down. You swallow and take a fortifying breath through your nose, your body and mind and soul suddenly buzzing, unsure what lies in store for you now, but knowing it will take all of your willpower to withstand whatever it is. You unlock the door with a click but leave it closed. You sit on the edge of the bathtub instead and wait. And wait. And wait. Finally, when your heart is in your throat and you’re shaking so badly your teeth are clattering together and you think you might have a panic attack from the anticipation, the doorknob turns and the bathroom door slowly swings open to reveal Elvis, still clad in the leather outfit you boldly requested he wear home tonight. His face is like a gathering storm, ready to rain down thunder and hellfire on you. His eyes flash a color of blue you’ve never seen before and his nostrils flare just a touch, his jaw clenched and unmoving. His hands though. His delicate, slender hands, rather than being balled into fists, rest easily at his side, one of them drumming a steady rhythm on his thigh.

He smiles though it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. You open your mouth to say something but can’t think of a thing to say. You want to apologize, truly. You know your behavior was unacceptable, what the hell had come over you? But the words won’t come. You’re feeling stubborn and fragile, your ego and feelings bruised by him. The closeness you felt this morning has all but dissipated. So you close your mouth and look away from his intense gaze and the anger and desire that radiates out from him. It reaches you where you’re perched on the edge of the tub and does funny things to your insides. He steps forward, tired of waiting, and grabs you by the wrist, hauling you to your feet and out the bathroom door. You resist at first, dragging your feet, but that just makes him grip you tighter, his fingers rubbing and burning where they meet your wrist. So you let him pull you into the bedroom where he drags you over to the bed and flings you down on it as he stands over you, blocking your view of anything else. All you can see is him. All you can feel is him. All you want is him.

“I asked you to wait while I talked to her. What part of that didn’t you understand? She is my wife, dammit, and I owe her my undivided attention when she calls, at the very least. What am I gonna do with you, honey?” He asks, breathing hard, his irritation with your behavior unmasked. The fact that he won’t say her name out loud sits heavy in the air. He just stares at you and you realize he’s expecting an answer from you. You gulp and look up at him, vulnerable in your position on the bed. And then you realize that this whole time, this game you’ve been playing, has unconsciously fed right into one of your fantasies. You don’t know if you can say it out loud, not to him. You feel your face burn red and he tilts his head, interested in what’s got you so hot and bothered. His mouth lifts in a half smile and an eyebrow quirks up. He remains quiet, forcing you to speak.

“Spank me, daddy, and call me little girl,” you whisper. Elvis’s mouth falls open in shock, his eyes widening a little and the vein in his neck apparent as he stares down at you. He stands frozen, his chest rising and falling, barely. You can almost read the thoughts that flash through his mind and across his face, his eyes lidded as his tongue snakes out and licks his bottom lip, pulling it between his teeth. He abruptly makes up his mind and hauls you up from the bed, pulling you into his arms.

“OK, little girl,” he says, lip curling up into a sneer, a dangerous glint in his eyes. “If that’s what you really want.” An involuntary noise escapes your lips, something between a moan and a sigh, and you squeeze your legs together, your core already flush with arousal. He sits on the side of the bed, long legs spread, and you can see the outline of his already hard cock through his leather pants. He clenches his jaw, gripping your wrist as he tries to pull you down onto his lap. You resist, pulling against him, suddenly scared.

“You asked for this, honey. Now, be a good girl and take what I have to give ya. The longer you drag this out the worse it will be,” he says firmly, but not unkindly. You swallow the lump in your throat and nod your head, allowing him to pull you onto his lap and across his knees. He rucks your dress up around your waist, and pulls your panties down around your thighs. You inhale as the cool, air-conditioned air hits your newly exposed delicate parts and contrasts with the warm leather against your skin. His left arm is on your back, holding you down firmly. You feel so foolish perched there, splayed over his legs - what had you been thinking, asking for this? That is until the first smack hits you without warning, bolting you forward a little with the impact. You can’t breathe for a minute, shocked and unprepared as you are, only able to focus on the stinging feeling his hand left on you. You dimly hear him speaking above you and it takes everything in you to focus on what he’s saying.

“Now little girl, do you understand why you’re being punished?”

“Yes, daddy,” you choke out.

Smack. His hand lands on your other cheek and you close your eyes tight with a gasp.

“And why is that?” He palms your cheek softly, warm hand soothing the burning sensation there.

“Because I interrupted your phone call with your - with her,” you say, unable to bring yourself to say her name out loud. Not here, not now.

Smack. “And what happens when bratty little girls interrupt important phone calls?”

“They get spankings,” you whisper, clutching the bed sheets in your balled up fists.

Smack. That one hits decidedly lower, his fingers grazing your slit and you let out a high-pitched moan. You feel him shift under you, his right leg starting to jiggle slightly. It jolts your already sensitive core and has you biting down on your arm as pleasure rolls through you, stifling a whimper. His broad hand rubs your back, pressing down a little more firmly, to steady himself or soothe you, you can’t be sure.

“You know I’m only punishing you out of love, dontcha honey? This hurts me more than it hurts you.” Smack.

“Yes, daddy,” you say through gritted teeth, tears starting to track down your cheeks now. You take a deep breath to steady yourself, the heat growing in your belly.

“One more baby. I think you’ve learned your lesson,” he says as he brings his hand down once more, harder than any of the previous times and you let out a little yelp, slumping lifeless over his knees, the tension gone from your body now that it’s over. You lay there a minute, forehead resting on your arm, vibrating and trying to catch your breath. Elvis runs soothing strokes over your stinging ass and up your back, landing at your neck, massaging it with one hand, stroking your hair. He just lets you stay there for a little while as he calms you and you feel ready to move. He helps you slowly sit up next to him on the bed and wipes the tears from your cheeks, taking your chin between his fingers and looking you in the eyes.

“Are you alright, Y/N?” He truly wants to know, you can tell it isn’t in him to be cruel, ever. Firm, yes. An asshole sometimes, yes. But cruel for the sake of being mean? Never. You nod your head, you don’t trust your voice right now. He smiles and pulls you in for a kiss, which does more to speed up your already racing heart than it does to calm it. You reach between his legs and cup his stiff length, palming him through the baby soft, heated leather. He whines a little which is all the encouragement you need to stand him up and jerk down his pants, a little frantically, his rock hard shaft springing free against his belly. You push him back onto the bed as you slip to the floor between his spread legs. You take his cock in your hand and use your thumb to rub gentle circles around the swollen, leaking head, looking up at him to make sure he’s ok. You’ve never given a blowjob to an uncut man before, but being the girl you were, you had done your research. His blue eyes beg you for more and you lean forward to place tiny licks all around his hyper-sensitive tip, swirling your tongue lightly. He sucks in a breath and leans his head back, stomach muscles already quivering. You savor the way his exposed throat looks as he swallows, the way his long lashes rest on his cheeks, eyes closed in ecstasy. You work your mouth down his shaft, moist lips dragging up and down, lightly sucking and licking as you go. He groans above you, eyes snapping open to look at you as he weaves his fingers through your hair. “Atta girl,” he praises, voice strangled and breathless.

You finally take as much of him as you can in your mouth, using your hand slick with spit to grasp the rest of him. You begin to suck lightly, not too hard, ever mindful of his sensitivity. His fingers grip your hair tighter, sending a tingle down your spine and prompting you to speed up your pace a bit. He’s been excited all day and it doesn’t take long before he’s coming in your mouth, hot and salty, the only warning is his hand clenching a tight fist in your hair and his hips rutting up into your mouth a little.

You hold onto his hips as he pulses in your mouth, again and again, swallowing his seed little by little, until he falls back in the bed, gasping, one hand clutching his chest, the other pulling you with him to lay by his side. You snuggle into him, your fingers rubbing circles through his chest hair, the open leather jacket still encircling his upper body. His hand is around your shoulder and your feel him look down at you and hesitate before speaking.

“Baby…where’d you get the whole “daddy” thing from?” He’s curious and that surprises you a little. “Not that I’m complaining, mind ya. Just surprised is all.”

“Are you kidding me, Elvis?” You say, incredulous, looking up at him and smirking. “With the leather? You fucking deserve it.”

Tags: @aconflagrationofmyown @meladollsims @godlypresley @jelliedonut

[iolypse]

primarily english speaking qsmp members as D&D characters because I can't help but fuse both of my current fixations together

Philza — species for this one was tricky, class and subclass a little harder, but I ultimately decided on aasimar ranger (horizon walker). kept trying to pick between aasimar and air genasi, almost put air genasi because I felt like qfoolish fit aasimar better, but they can both be aasimar it's fine. by the time I finish writing this, foolish might not even be an aasimar anymore, im still thinking. regardless, qphil has always been a bit of a tactician and a bowman, hasnt he? classic traits of a ranger. from there, it felt like horizon walker was the only subclass that fit. protecting from otherworldly threats, preserving life and other planes. yeppp sounds like this paranoid motherfucker right here.

BadBoyHalo — now that's a tiefling if I've ever seen one. class is a little more complicated. I've deliberated between paladin and warlock before eventually settling on paladin, making him a tiefling paladin (ancients). I don't have to explain the tiefling part (have you seen his everything?), but the paladin part could use it. we're yet to really see qbad make any real deals with any powerful forces, so that took out the warlock part for me. I wanted to make sure he had at least a little bit of magic though (c'mon), so I immediately went to paladin, and it worked out. he's a dedicated man! he'll make a promise and he'll fuckin stick to it. I debated between devotion and ancients after that, but devotion tends to have a more lawful side, which ended with me choosing ancients. they fight the darkness because they love life, plain and simple, and you're dull if you can't see how much this dude loves life.

FitMC — alright, I'm sorry, I had to do it, but this is a human fighter (rune knight) right here. I simply couldnt see him as anything other than human, and rogue and artificer didn't fit since there's other characters that fit those classes so much better, so fighter it was. still, qfit has a lot of cool gadgets and bits and bobs, and I wanted to recognize that in this adaptation of him, so I decided to show that through the rune knight subclass. rune knight fighters can do a lot of cool shit with their runes, enhancing pretty much anything they put their mind to. probably some shit he found scrawled in the horrors of 2b2t and decided to study.

Foolish — this one was hard! the fuck is this guy? I instinctively thought aasimar, but I already made qphil an aasimar, so I played around with different types of genasi and then goliaths, even minotaurs just trying to find something that fit the semi-inhuman sorta innately magical, physically strong being vibes. I think aasimar fit best, so then it was a matter of class. hes a builder! he builds shit. that's what qfoolish does. but he is NOT a mechanic and therefore not an artificer, not musical enough to be a bard, not angry enough to be a barbarian, so what the fuck is he? took a LOT of fucking around, but eventually I remembered the college of creation exists, and I felt it fit well enough, making him an aasimar bard (creation). he draws his power from his builds— he inspires with sight, not song. it's a unique take on a bard, but I've seen some awesome chef bards, so I think this works just fine. he's an architect bard.

Slimecicle — this one was FUN. 100% that's a fucking plasmoid. he's a goopy guy! then I experimented with different bard and rogue classes, thought maybe warlock for his deal with demon rubius, and then decided i couldn't disrespect the juanaflippa song and said fuck it, he can be a bard. again in correlation with the song, I went with valor, since he's telling her great story through the lyrics, keeping her memory alive with it. I DID consider spirits, however, since he actually managed to bring juanaflippa back, however briefly. still, I felt valor fit the bill just a little better. he's a plasmoid bard (valor).

JaidenAnimations — ohhh this one took some thought. I wanted her to be fairly humanoid while still having some subtle unusual traits, and elf was considered but it felt too regal. I almost considered kenku for how she tends to repeat what other people say, but it wasn't right. thought I'd try something a little strange, and I ended up with shifter! specifically wildhunt. class was just as difficult— she wasnt going to be any primarily martial classes, so that cut out a bunch, and she's not really faithful or super devoted, so that took out paladin, warlock, and cleric, and eventually I narrowed it down to sorcerer, picking aberrant mind for their mystery and influence on others. being the only woman in an island full of gay twinks is tough, man. she's a shifter sorcerer (aberrant mind).

Wilbur — half-elf bard (eloquence). this one came pretty quick to me, actually. the bard part is more than obvious, subclass picked for the number of times qwilbur's casually convinced other people to just go with the bit. he's a man of words, and he weaves them well. he can be damn persuasive, mixing in genuine arguments with small white lies, all while playing your heart strings just right. half-elf is almost entirely vibes honestly— human was too bland, elf too spicy, so we met in the middle.

DanTDM — this dude's been gone since the very fucking beginning pretty much. I almost want to make him a rogue just for that, but man, he's the diamond minecart, alright? I grew up watching him. it'd be a disservice not to make him an artificer. from there, alchemist best suited the vibes, since he never really did much of anything machinery-related. he is a human artificer (alchemist).

[softpine]

→ oc questions tag ←

tagged by @subtlefires thank you!! i haven't seen this tag before, so this was really fun 💖

i decided to do casper to make up for all the times i've chosen coco

→ 5 words to physically describe your OC (do you have a drawing? even better!) (since we already know what he looks like, i chose general descriptions and stole your moodboard idea hehe)

energetic, reliable, persistent, lacks confidence, sweet

→ Who inspired your OC?

at first, nobody. casper was meant to be the... not comic relief exactly, but a break from the heavy ghost/death/trauma stuff in the main story. but as he got older, i started putting so much more of myself into his character. without going into detail, i've learned things about my own family that makes me relate to casper's situation more than i thought i would when i came up with it. i never planned to go more in-depth about his biological father & half sisters because i thought, well, he has 2 loving parents and siblings he grew up with, why would he lose sleep over these people he's never met and is only connected to by blood? it was one of those things where i thought i knew how i would feel in that situation, but i never really knew until i knew. i wish i could say this is the only part of my life i've imparted on casper, but it's not 😅 casper is also the first character we've seen in college since beth, and my college experience was SO much closer to casper's than beth's. so like. it's me, i inspired casper fjksdjs

→ Give me a song to define your OC

soda by nothing but thieves // lyrics:

i once had a thought, but don't know where it went 'cause i've been living off soda and cheap cigarettes maybe when i was a kid i was dropped on my head yeah, that would make some sense

i don't want to be myself it's making me so unwell

→ If I met your OC on the street how would they greet me?

he doesn't make it a habit to greet strangers aside from a polite nod, but if he already knows someone he would loudly call out to them even if they're far away and it's embarrassing for everyone involved – that is, if he remembers them. he's really bad with names!

→ Can your OC be your best friend? Why?

oh yeah for sure. not so much now, but i was friends with so many jock types in high school. i think it's because once those guys find out i'm a lesbian they just treat me like a bro 😌 but they would tell me things they didn't think they could talk about with anyone else. i love being the friend everyone comes to with their problems because i'm telling people what they already knew but didn't want to admit, and making them feel like they came up with a solution all on their own. that's exactly what casper wishes he had in a friendship right now. also i want him to be my personal trainer!

→ 1 adjective and 1 noun to describe your OC

neurotic // i know this word is outdated, but i still use it for myself and i can't think of a better word to describe the way that he manages to be anxious about anything and everything. so much of his personality / habits / lifestyle were formed in response to anxiety (like, he was afraid of staying the same so he changed everything about himself all at once. he did so many sports and he exercises all the time because it keeps him busy. etc.) and the important thing is that most of his fears are totally irrational and not the more common worries people have, even other people with anxiety. it's not like "are my friends secretly mad at me?" it's "i'm going to walk to class today because i'm afraid i'll run someone over with my car" and things of that nature; things he knows are irrational, but that doesn't make them feel less real. but we'll get more into that later

toaster // LMAO... it's a ubiquitous household object you take for granted will always be there. you don't really know how it works on the inside, you just count on the fact that it will. you don't even take notice of it unless something is really wrong with it. but it's a tried and true part of a daily routine and you'd be really bummed if you lost it! tell your toaster you love them today sdjksjd

→ tagging: feels weird tagging anyone after i got so personal here lmao so if you see this and want to do it, consider yourself tagged!

[immajustvibehere]

Cruel World

Pairing: Arthur Morgan x fem!Reader

summary: A drabble in which Arthur overhears a fisher singing "Cruel World" and realises something.

630 words, 5 minutes reading time

Arthur was woken by whistling that suddenly accompanied the rushing of the stream nearby. With tired eyes he searched for the stranger whistling this tune but couldn't find him. Instead. his eyes fell on his horse grazing nearby. Arthur remembered. In the stifling summer afternoon heat he had dismounted, not too far away from Beaver’s Hollow, to rest. He had taken a short trip, just to get away from camp because it was so...depressing. But now, after only a couple of hours of slumber, he had woken by the sound of this melody.

With a grunt, he rose. He walked closer to the stream until he could see the stranger. A fisher, gripping the rod with two slender hands and wearing an overall so dirty one couldn’t tell the original colour. But his left feet stomped in a certain beat. The whistling suddenly stopped, and the man started to sing without a care in the world. He probably didn't know that there was someone close, listening and watching him.

"Desert road, desert plain

I have seen so much pain

Now I see into the eyes of a girl

No more, no more, cruel world"

His otherwise loud voice changed into a whisper when he mumbled a couple of words, as if he had forgotten the lyrics. Seconds later, he sang more confident enough:

"..., I felt trust

I knew then that I must

Go to her, away from this cruel world."

Then he sang the chorus and repeated it so often, that Arthur doubted this was how the song could originally go, but he listened, nevertheless. The man seemed to have the song stuck in his head, because when he interrupted his singing to draw in a fish, he began all over again. Arthur must have stood there for fifteen minutes before he decided it was time to go back. Now it was he who couldn't get the song out of his head. It had struck a nerve, so to say. His last couple of weeks had already been tumultuous and he really had thought he had figured out what he wanted to do. He knew he didn't have much time left and the more people he could get out of this mess Dutch had created, the better. But all this time, he hadn't made his mind up about you.

You were the first person he saw when he hitched his horse at the hitching post in camp. Not that he even wanted to look for anyone else. You sat on a stool behind his tent, mending some socks. You were probably the only one who still cared about contributing something, Arthur thought.

"Y/n", Arthur called out, approaching you. Like always, you looked up and your face brightened up. It had been like that for a long time now. Whenever he needed comfort, you had been there for him and despite the bad man that he was, he was aware that you had a soft spot for him. After he found out about his sickness, he had pushed you further away, out of fear his death might hurt you more than you could take. But you kept coming back. You were eager to show him that he deserved better and that he was worth the struggle and in a way, Arthur appreciated the persistence.

You stood up and put down the sock. Before you could say so much as hello, he had extended his arms to grab your shoulder. For a seconds he looked at you, searching if the eyes of a girl would be enough to make him forget his cruel world. His sad expression unsettled you, but suddenly, he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you into the first and last hug you had ever gotten from him.

[mikufigure]

i intended to write this as a comment on this https://archiveofourown.org/works/42448821/chapters/110444814?view_adult=true fan fiction (nsfw), but comments are disabled. i’m a fairly private person in regards to erotic content, i don’t like sharing what i enjoy outside of very limited circumstances, but i feel i need to set that aside for a moment in order to praise this. this is one of my favorite fanworks of all time.

let’s set some background so i can formulate my thoughts and also give a proper info. i rarely read fan fiction, only occasionally indulging whenever visual art can’t scratch the itch of enjoying media. guilty gear is a franchise that i, excuse my wording, feel guilty for enjoying due to my lack of participation in the actual fighting game side of it. i’ve been about actively into it for ten months, but i first started looking into it because of bridget’s depiction in strive, as she was transgender, and openly accepted as such by her franchise.

putting the rest under the readmore since this got long

after listening to her theme song a few times i ended up hearing other songs as they came on autoplay, and loved them. passively listened to just the music for a few months before plunging into what the series actually was. i am not good at fighting games. i’ve tried a few, played a few rounds against friends, but ultimately did not stick with them for very long. the way i enjoyed guilty gear was by listening to music, learning about the story, and enjoying fanworks.

as much as i like to pretend that i don’t, i do have an anxiety disorder, and the general culture of media led me to developing the mindset of becoming a ‘poser’ for not actually playing the games. there was a reputation of fans that got into the series because of bridget never playing the game and being looked down on because of that, and i did not want to fall in that crowd. with this factors, i was reserved in my emotional investment for quite some time.

what ended up drawing me out of this shell was meeting people who enjoyed the series, and seeing them enjoying it without hesitation. there was no breakthrough moment of “oh wow! i can just enjoy things without worrying about opinions!”, but rather a gradual build up of confidence in seeing the happiness of others.

do you wanna know the fun part of this? the people i’ve met got into it for various reason, still play the game, and enjoy the franchise as much as me. the only other uniting feature between us is that we’ve all been transgender. guilty gear has cultivated a safe community for transgender people solely through their addition of characters like bridget and testament. don’t think i’ve forgotten about testament, i’ve just only been addressing bridget due to her widespread impact.

i think i’m ready to actually talk about that fanfiction i linked forever ago. go read it if you haven’t, or at least read between the first and second line break. the part that got me wanting to write all of this was two specific paragraphs:

She doesn’t know what to tell this gothic nonbinary transfemme to keep them safe. Maybe spit out some stupid platitudes. Shit advice like, don’t ever write poetry. Don’t ever write song lyrics. Don’t ever write your heart and your trauma and your hope into trans erotic fanfiction; don't do it, it's not worth it.

this first one made my heart ache. it made me realize why comments were disabled, why the work was posted anonymously. i had already decided i needed to write something in response to it by then, as a sort of “tribute” to whoever might have written this.

And in response, I-No brushes her guitar’s strings, enough to summon her magic. Transformative magic, the kind that you’d archive online in the hopes that another trans reader would find resonance between the lines.

i’ve found such an intense resonance with this. it’s hard to convey with words the emotion that this makes me feel. i’m grateful to have found this fan fiction, to have found this community, for a game like guilty gear to exist which could foster a community for transgender people. i’m grateful for transgender erotica and expression as a love letter to the source material and for personal indulgence. i don’t think i can make a much more compelling closer than that, just simple adoration for transgenderism and love.

[mitamicah]

Before starting some christmas doodles and/or dtiys brainstorm thumbnails i wanted to do a thought experiment and draw down every new tattoo idea I have as if money, time and pain tolerance wasnt an issue 😆 so here is what I would look like if all my ideas got made :3

1) words under right collarbone reading: "write your own story" - at the end there is a peacock feather pen still in the midst of writing the "y". Reminder to myself that this life I am living is my own and I get to decide what story I want it to be.

2) Harpy in a dynamic pose with wings stretched out and top surgery scars. The motive may change since the idea mostly is to cover up a feature i have started to become insecure about (my thigh) and make it into something I can be proud of (an artwork)

3) If I am lucky enough to meet either Jere or Bojan I will ask them to write "Are You" on something that I then want tattooed on me. This is probably the least meaningful i just love them so much i want a part of them on my skin as the parasocial delulu fan I am xD

4) a logo i have made for my own artist persona/singer songwriter persona. Placement may change. Represents my passion with singing and songwriting.

5) Flapjack from the Owl House with a brush in his mouth. Tribute tattoo to my grandmother who passed away last year. This tattoo i do have (made by Christine at Cray Cray Ink in Copenhagen on March 23 2023).

6) Eevee sitting down tilting his head where he wears a tiara with the transgender symbol on it. Eevee was my favourite pokemon and to this day i love the symbolism of the eeveelutions for the trans readings of the whole thing. The tiara just makes it more obvious plus its cute.

7) Bulbasaur with a studded collar. Ngl this one is here because I love Jere and that he fits with Eevee and Flapjack.

8) an ouroboros snake all the way across my arm making an infinity symbol. The infinity symbol is a nod to the autistic symbol while the snake is mostly here to nod to norse mythology. Probably one the tattoos that are mostly here for aesthetic reasons and that I am most likely to drop.

9) a flagpole with a t-shirt reading Ihan Sama on it. A reference to both the coverart and the lyrical content of käärijä's song Paidaton Riehuja (he has put the shirt on a flag pole when taking it off and screams ihan sama aka whatever at his insecurities about his looks at the beginning of the song). Feel connected to the song on both a gendered way and as inspiration to love myself and my body. Still figuring out if it would be most fun to have on my left arm (easier to see) or down my side (right where I have the second most body insecurity therefore being a reminder to love that part of myself)

10) the three birds concept - i mentioned it in another post so I wont go into detail here - will be running along with my left collarbone so the peacock tail is resting on the shoulder

11) my newest idea for a post-op chest tattoo is one of these adorable fox doodles created by Frederikke at Shay Ink in Odense - the fox will be wearing the bolero pointing metalforks into the air. Under it will be written this lyric from CCC: Enkää pelkääkään tätä maailmaa.

12) an ansuz rune on my left lower arm. Represents tons of things from my heritance (dane aka viking), interest in norse mythology, humanity, creativity, interest in language (last three is all meanings the rune has in itself), my autism, asexuality and aromaticism (since ansuz is also an old version of the letter 'a') together with being a nod to the käärijä concert I watched two days prior (the font being related to the käärijä font). This tattoo is one I already have and was made by Caroline at the psycadelic unicorn in Berlin.

Thank you for listening to my venting and I hope you can excuse the bad quality picture :'D

[fitrahgolden]

Lilies and Soap: Chapter 5 - A Good Hurt

[NOTE: I was going to write a few lyrics for “A Good Hurt,” Anthony’s song for Violet, but it’s literally just “Upward Over the Mountain” by Iron & Wine. Ya’ll, it’s the perfect song for them. Also, it’s one of my favourite songs of all time. The lyrics will be at the end.

An additional note: This is the last of the “once a day” updates. I immediately fell in love with this story and have been compulsively writing it all week. But, unfortunately (for me, anyway), the updates are gonna slow way down, more to a “once a week” type frequency.]

“Mum?”

Anthony was happy to find his mother alone in the drawing room of her house. He didn't want an audience for this.

“Anthony, Dear. I didn’t know you were coming by.”

“Yeah, just for a bit. I can’t stay for dinner, but I need to talk to you.”

Concern coloured Violet’s face. “Of course. Is everything alright?”

“Oh, yes. Sorry, yeah. Everything’s fine. Actually, I wanted to play you something.”

He moved to sit at the grand piano situated by one of the room’s large windows and scooted to one side.

“Do you mind sitting with me?”

Violet smiled curiously as she sat next to her eldest son. “Oh, am I getting a preview of the next album?”

Anthony laughed gently. “No. It’s not going to be on the next album, but I would like your permission to consider it for the one after that.”

“Permission?” She raised her eyebrows.

“Yes. I wrote a song about you. Well, about us, for you. And I didn’t want to spring on you. It means a lot to me that you be the first one to hear it in private, and that I have your blessing to share it.”

Anthony wasn’t surprised when tears already started to form in his mother’s eyes.

“Go on, then,” she whispered. “Let’s hear it.”

Anthony began to play the opening notes of a song he’d titled “A Good Hurt.”

After his father died when he was eighteen, Anthony’s relationship with his mother became rather volatile. For the first year, Violet was all but completely absent from the family, including Hyacinth, who was born shortly after Edmund Bridgerton’s death. Anthony became a caretaker to his mother and a surrogate father to his seven siblings overnight. Once Violet recovered, she and Anthony never quite found their footing when it came to each other and their roles as heads of their family.

A couple of years ago, things came to a head, and Violet and Anthony decided that it would be in their best interest, and the best interest of the whole family, if the two of them went to therapy, separately as well as together. As part of his healing journey, Anthony’s therapist encouraged him to lean into his music, to use the tools he already had at his disposal to process the things they were working on in therapy. “A Good Hurt” was one of the results of that labour. Anthony was proud of it, of what it did for him, and hoped it would communicate to his mum everything he’d felt in the past, what he felt now, and what he hoped for their future. 

Violet was silent for a few minutes after the final notes resounded in the air before dissipating.. He wasn’t sure what to expect, so he just sat silently with her.

“Anthony,” she finally said, “I… hardly even know what to say.” She put a hand on one of his and squeezed. “Thank you. It's beautiful. Thank you… so much.”

Anthony had some tears of his own in his eyes as he squeezed Violet’s hand in return. “You’re welcome, Mum. And thank you.” He handed her a folded piece of paper, filled with his handwriting. “It’s the lyrics. I want you to have them. And there’s no pressure to let me record it. I understand if you want to keep it private.”

Violet nodded and pressed the paper against her chest. “May I think about it?”

“Of course, Mum. Take all the time you need.”

The two sat at the piano together for a while, talking and playing a few songs together. Eventually, Anthony stood.

“I’m sorry I can’t stay and eat with you guys. I have plans tonight.”

Violet stood as well and patted his cheek. “Oh, that’s fine, Dear. Anything fun? Are you seeing Kate?”

Anthony furrowed his brows a bit at the assumption. Not because it was unreasonable. It wasn’t. He often spent his evenings with Kate. He simply felt an unfamiliar feeling in his chest. It was as if he felt sorry that the answer to his mum’s question was no, he wasn’t seeing Kate tonight. He shook the thought out of his head and smiled. “No, not tonight. I have a date, is all.”

Violet gave a half smile and nodded. “Right. Well, have a good time.”

Anthony nodded curtly and turned to leave when Violet stopped him.

“And, um, thank you, again. I’m so proud of you. you know that, right? Of what you’re making of your life, sharing your talents with the world. Your father would be, too.”

—

Anthony met Siena outside of the restaurant she’d picked out. She greeted him with a kiss on the cheek before they headed inside. They were each recognised exactly once before they were seated and laughed about it while they looked at their menus.

The food was delicious and the conversation was easy. It was mostly more of the same as their lunch meeting, talking about their time at the Royal College of Music and the careers that followed.

"Oh, I had a question," Siena said after taking a sip of her wine.

“Alright, here we go. Should I be scared?” Anthony joked.

“No. Believe me, Bridgerton, you’ll know when I start grilling you. It’s just that I noticed at our meeting the other day that you still call Kate Lamb. After all these years. It always got my attention when I would hang out with you guys. How did that come about?"

Anthony sat back and smiled softly at the memory. A few seconds passed. He saw Siena looking at him expectantly and realised he hadn’t actually started responding to her yet. "Oh. Well, we were in one of the practice halls. It was the first time we collaborated. The first thing she did at the piano was play  'Mary Had a Little Lamb.' Completely serious, totally committed to singing and playing each note. And I just…burst out laughing. After she threw a pencil at me, she explained it was a part of her vocal warm up when she first started music lessons when she was six. She liked that it was her stepmum's name, so she stuck with it from that point on. I had to respect that. She's been my la–  She's been 'Lamb' to me ever since."

Siena nodded, her expression hard to read, and quietly said, “Ah.” She quickly moved on to other topics, and the rest of the meal was perfectly… nice.

After dinner, the pair decided it was too pleasant of a night to not take a walk in the nearby park. Siena looped an arm around Anthony’s and they strolled along the paved trail, avoiding the evening runners. During a lull in the conversation, Anthony slowed to a stop and turned Siena towards him. Her hand slid down his arm to take his hand.

“I’m having a really nice time, Siena.”

“Me, too.” She smiled up at him dreamily.

“Are we… Um, do you want to call it a night, or…”

Siena raised an eyebrow as she got on her tiptoes to kiss him. As soon as Anthony closed his eyes, he saw Kate. The same Kate he’d imagined while watching her record “Perpetual Commotion.” The Kate that was brand new to him, while somehow at the same time also feeling intimately familiar. The sudden vision made him falter, and when he and Siena pulled apart, he opened his eyes to find her frowning at him in a sad, oddly understanding way. She shook her head slowly as she looked down for a moment. Then she kissed his cheek and finally answered.

“Yeah, Anthony. I think we should call it a night.”

They hugged and parted on a friendly note, speaking genuinely about how much they were looking forward to working with each other on Siena’s album and exchanging "see you soon"s. Once she left in the taxi that Anthony had flagged down for her, he walked around the park for another hour on his own. His mind was whirring, and he’d hoped the walk would help slow everything down. No such luck. So, he went home and did what he always did when he needed to sort out his thoughts.

He started writing.

—

The words were pouring out of him faster than he could even think about what he was writing. He eventually stopped to read the stream of consciousness that filled the pages of his notebook.

Kate, Kate, Kate.

The melodies, the imagery, the metaphors. He was writing about Kate and didn't even realise it.

Kate, Kate, Kate. 

It was all there, in the span of ten minutes, the entity, the woman, the person. His person in more ways than he had been aware of.

Kathani, Kate, Lamb. 

He felt lightheaded, looking back at the last few years with all the filters removed, finally seeing everything for what it truly was.

He laughed to save from crying, to stave off the pity and frustration and…anger he knew he would be directing at himself soon enough.

So much wasted time.

Well, he couldn't get that time back. He could only attempt one hell of a course correction.

Mine, mine, mine.

Hers, hers, hers.

It was a wish, a prayer, a vision of his future–of their future. 

Ours, ours, ours.

He stared at the pages again. He needed to find a way to distil them down into… something. He didn’t know what.

Something worthy of her. 

Kate, Kate, Kate. 

[NOTE:

“Mother, don't worry, I killed the last snake that lived in the creek bed

Mother, don't worry, I've got some money I saved for the weekend

Mother, remember being so stern with that girl who was with me?

Mother, remember the blink of an eye when I breathed through your body?

So may the sunrise bring hope where it once was forgotten

Sons are like birds, flying upward over the mountain

Mother, I made it up from the bruise on the floor of this prison

Mother, I lost it, all of the fear of the Lord I was given

Mother, forget me now that the creek drank the cradle you sang to

Mother, forgive me, I sold your car for the shoes that I gave you

So may the sunrise bring hope where it once was forgotten

Sons could be birds, taken broken up to the mountain

Mother, don't worry, I've got a coat and some friends on the corner

Mother, don't worry, she's got a garden we're planting together

Mother, remember the night that the dog had her pups in the pantry?

Blood on the floor, fleas on their paws, and you cried 'til the morning

So may the sunrise bring hope where it once was forgotten

Sons are like birds, flying always over the mountain”

“Upward Over the Mountain” by Iron & Wine.

Lyrics by Sam Beam.]

[francis-writes]

I WANNA BE YOUR SLAVE

A/N: this story is terrible, I know. But I started writing it about a year ago and I spent so much time I couldn't delete it, yet so much time I can't look at it anymore and I am too tired to try to make it any better.

Pairing: Alex Delarge x fem!reader

Summary: a quick story of your relationship with Alex.

Type: fluff, smut, angst, 3in1

Warning: s€x, also I can't use Nadsat because I read "Clockwork Orange" only in polish translation. So sorry but Alex speaks normal English.

In a moment you will hear „I Wanna Be Your Slave”, one of the greatest hits of Italian rockband radio speaker announced enthusiastically. Alex smiled and turned up the volume. Some time ago – felt as if ages passed since then but actually it were only a few years – he didn't like rock. To be specific, he didn't appreciate most of the modern music, convinced that it's all trash. For Alex the only music that was worth listening to were classical music and songs from the 50s. It was until he met you. You were obsessed with rock and as you began to see each other more often, he had no choice but get used to your music taste. At first he found it tolerable but when he started falling for you, Alex also began enjoying rock more and he couldn't say whether this genre was really so much better than he thought or it just reminded him about you. I Wanna Be Your Slave was especially important for him. Not only because you loved Måneskin (even though you did) but the lyrics always reminded Alex the whole story of your relationship.

„Come here” he called you „Our song is playing, lets dance”

You went to living room a bit surprised „So we have our song?”

Alex offered you his hand „Now you know”. 

I wanna be your slave

I wanna be your master

I wanna make your heart beat

Run like rollercoasters 

I wanna be a good boy

I wanna be a gangster

'Cause you can be the beauty

And I could be the monster 

Though usually when you visited Alex's house, you didn't stay there for long and left soon after the act, one particular night you were so tired that you both quickly fell asleep. When you woke up, you had no idea what time it was. Alex was still asleep (snuggled up against you like koala against tree) so you carefully crawled from under his arm and out of the bed. He didn't wake up so you took your clothes from the floor (last night there was... a fuss) and dressed up. You were going to leave the house but then you heard a rumble in your stomach and decided to visit the kitchen and - best without drawing anybody's attention - find something to eat.

Unfortunately, your plan failed and when you were putting butter on your toast, you heard surprised "good morning" from the back. You turned around just to see middle-aged woman in flashy outfit. "Can I know what are you doing here?" She asked.

You wanted to give her an intelligent and polite answer but you were so stressed that your words sounded like "uhm, I am... with Alex and I just... hmm, breakfast"

Woman smiled at you. "Oh, Alex never mentioned that he has such a beautiful girlfriend! But he's so secretive, he doesn't want to talk with his old parents about his life"

Before she managed to say anything else, a man - probably her husband - came to the kitchen, trying to discover the source of noise. But he stopped, seeing you. "Who's that?" He asked his wife. 

"You won't believe" she said cheerfully "but our Alex has a girlfriend "

"Well, well" man was observing you with emotionless face "what a news. But he should tell us before and not wait until we would find her in our kitchen"

Woman grunted, probably worried that her husband's words may offend you. "Will you eat a breakfast with us?" She asked "we would love to get to know you closer"

You wanted to find an excuse and avoid an awkward situation but woman already went to knock to Alex's door.

"Son, wake up and come to the kitchen"

"I can't, I have a terrible headache" Alex replied in a sleepy tone, unaware of the whole situation. 

"You can take a medicine" his mother said "but we want to eat breakfast with you and your amazing girlfriend "

It took a moment before meaning of her words got to Alex but soon there was a big noise in his room when he jumped out of the bed and tried to find some clothes. Then he stormed out of his bedroom and stood in the kitchen door, looking as you were sitting beside his father and calmly eating a toast. You awkwardly waved at him.

"Uhm, I just wanted to eat something before leaving and then I met your parents" you tried to explain the situation as you didn't want Alex to think that you deliberately decided to oficially throw yourself into his life.

Fortunately, he was an incredible actor (maybe in his case you should say: great liar) so he immediately put on his most charming smile.

"Oh yes, I hoped to introduce you more properly but in this case, mom, dad, I have honour to introduce you to the most beautiful, smart and incredible woman I ever met. Y/n, my girlfriend"

I love you since this morning

Not just for aesthetic

I wanna touch your body

So fucking electric 

Alex remembered the first time he saw you perfectly. Most of the times he couldn't differentiate one of his one-night-stand from another but you… you weren't like them. Usually he didn't pay attention to his lovers but in that moment when Alex noticed you sitting in Korova Bar, you got into his mind unexpectedly and posessed it.  There was something haunting and tempting about you and Alex at first couldn't say what it specifically was. But maybe the real purpose was that you were standing out from the whole setting. Yes, young girls often visited Korova looking for fun and finding mainly trouble. You were sitting with group of such girls, probably your friends, and yet you were looking different. You werent't giggling, only once when one of girls whispered something to your ear, you smiled gently. In opposite to other girls Alex met before, you weren't showing off your charms and trying to allure men around you nor you were unhappy about impression you made on men. Alex noticed the mischievous sparkle in your eyes and immediately decided to know you better. And that in his dictionary means exactly „to get in your bed”.

When Alex came closer, you didn't approach him but just fixed your gaze on him as if you were trying to guess hiss intentions. He smiled widely and sat beside you.

„What's a girl like you doing in a place like this?” he asked as he used to, flirting with naive girls. But you weren't naive. You sipped your dring and sized him up. After a moment of silence which felt like a eternity for Alex, you replied „I seek somebody to spend this night with”.

He grinned and said "well, it seems that you've already found one"

You were of the same opinion. 

I know you scared of me

You said that I'm too eccentric

I'm crying all my tears

And that's fucking pathetic 

At the beggining of your relationship, you weren't aware of Alex's other activities. You knew about drugs and his many lovers and you may suspected him about minor offenses but nothing strange for a teenager.

But one night you were walking through the streets of London and suddenly a car stopped next to you. Instinctively you wanted to speed up your pace but somebody called your name. You looked at the car and to your surprise, you recognized Alex and his droogies. You thought he didn't have a driver license!

"Where are you going?" Alex asked "Don't waste the night, get in and go with us"

You had some bad feeling about this idea but this was that thing about Alex: it was hard to refuse him.

You sat in the backseat, with Georgie and Dim. They were nice to you but you usually felt uneasy it their company even though you were sure that they wouldn't try anything when Alex is with them. 

So you were speeding through the London streets - real miracle you didn't have any accidents but the city was empty, most people were sensible enough to stay in their houses. You were terrified that later or sooner there will appear a car in front of you and the driver won't have enough time to get out of Alex's way but you knew that any suggestions of driving slower would only effect in a laugh. So to distract yourself from visions of a soon painful death, you asked your company:

"Sooo… what are your plans? Where are we going?"

Georgie shrugged. 

"We don't know"

"Maybe we will visit one hou-" Dim wanted to say something but Alex quickly interrupted him.

"Y/n won't stay with us for so long" he tried to yell over the noise of the car " We will just take you for a little trip around the town and get you back home"

"So early? You told me to don't waste the night" honestly, you really wanted to already be back in your home but the way Alex quickly changed the topic, worried you. 

"Don't worry, I will visit you later if you need some fun" you knew very well what Alex meant by "fun" and so did his droogies because Dim and Georgie laughed hearing his words.

I wanna make you hungry

Then I wanna feed ya

I wanna paint your face

Like you're my Mona Lisa 

I wanna be a champion

I wanna be a loser

I'll even be a clown

Cause I just wanna amuse ya 

I wanna be your sex toy

I wanna be your teacher

I wanna be your sin

I wanna be a preacher 

Alex lifted you from the ground and seated you on the desk. You embraced his waist with your legs while he was trying to unbutton your shirt. Unfortunately, everything he managed to do, was just ripping your shirt - hard to say whether it was effect of rush or alcohol and drugs he probably took before. Anyway your chest was exposed and it was the only thing that mattered then. Alex leaned over and started kissing your neck, then got a little lower and were trailing his kisses down until he stopped between your breasts. He put his lips on one boob and began to suck your nipple and caress the other one with his finger. Unexpectedly Alex bit the sensitive flesh which caused loud moan of pain slipping from your mouth. It was the most beautiful music for his ears. He quickly straightened up and helped you get off the desk. Without saying a world Alex turned you around so now he was standing back to the desk. He kneeled down and started taking off your skirt. You weren't protesting, especially that you felt tipsy after a few drinks Alex bought you this night, so you were just standing calmly and put a hand on his head and began gently stroking his golden hair. But quickly you felt firm grip on your wrist and Alex took your hand off. At the same time he stood up so he was again looking down at you. He released your hand and immediately pushed you so you landed back on his bed. Without wasting a second, Alex threw his clothes off. He kneeled between your legs, rested his weight on one hand and started to slowly trail his finger along your body. From your lips, through neck (you shuddered, being very ticklish in that place), he made a few circles around your breasts and then wandered down, to your most private area. 

"You're dripping wet" Alex noticed with a smirk "Maybe I should help you?"

You nodded and licked your lips, hungry for his touch, hungry for pleasure and relief it could bring.

He slipped two fingers into your pussy and began massaging your clit with his thumb. Alex really rarely was in the mood to pleasure you first, but when he actually did, it turned out that he had incredible skills. Soon you were writhing in pleasure, moving your body to help Alex hit the right spot.

You felt that orgasm is close but then he pulled out his fingers covered in your juice and brought them to your mouth.

"Lick them clean" he ordered.

You knew that complaining about refusing you awaited pleasure had no point so you obedietly started sucking on Alex's fingers and licking them. When you were done, he wiped saliva on your body and put your legs on his shoulders. In this comfortable position, he didn't wait any longer before he started thrusting into you. Alex wasn't known for his patience and he wasn't going to wait any longer for his pleasure.

Soon he pulled out and commanded you to lay on your side. He laid behind you and began to fuck you in this position. His pace was fast and he constantly hit some spot inside of you so you could swear you started seeing stars. The pleasure was too overwhelming and you wanted to beg him to stop but you knew Alex would be deaf for your pleas and cries.

I wanna make you love me

Then I wanna leave ya

'Cause baby I'm your David

And you're my Goliath 

For some time after Alex received a well-paid job and a new comfortable life from minister, he was having fun and he forgot about you. It was great to come back to his old habits, to be able to enjoy ultra-violence and new lovers everyday as before... at least at the beggining. But he felt that he was missing something. Sex and violence somehow weren't enough anymore, drugs couldn't satisfy him. There was an abyss in his life and Alex didn't know how to fill it.

More and more often he catched himself staring at happy families with children. But when he met Pete and his wife - that's when everything clicked in Alex's mind. He thought about the time he spent with you. How he enjoyed not only fucking with you but also talking with you over the cup of tea, watching movies together or even such mundane things like watching news or going for groceries. This was special, Alex never was so close to somebody in his life (maybe except Basil but he was like... a snake). He would never expected that one day he would say this but Alex enjoyed this domestic life.

The next day he knocked to your door, with a bouquet of flowers in his hand. When you saw him, you were surprised, to say the least. 

"Alex? What are you doing here?" You asked. 

"Actually I'm taking you for a date" he replied, giving you flowers "Take what you need and come with me, the car is waiting"

You looked at the flowers and then at Alex. You wasn't expecting it after he left without a word, but well, it was Alex, you were never sure what he's gonna do. You probably should have refuse after all he have done but you eventually  decided to go to this date. Well, Alex could be really convincing when he wanted to and to be honest - you deserved to have some fun.

And you were together since then. 

Because I'm the devil

Who's searching for redemption

And I'm a lawyer

Who's searching for redemption

And I'm a killer

Who's searching for redemption

I'm a motherfucking monster

Who's searching for redemption

And I'm a bad guy

Who's searching for redemption 

And Alex remembered the day your relationship changed. Until that you were meeting for sex and maybe some night adventure. Yes, you were closer to him than his other lovers and you talked with each other quite a lot but it all was just fleeting moments of fun. You were seeing each other in your free time out of boredom, because you had nothing better to do - and because you liked each other's presence.

It changed the day Alex was freed from prison, his parents kicked him out of the house and he had nowhere to go. When he was wandering lonely through the streets of London, wondering what to do with his life, he remembered about his old lover. There were little chances that you would shelter him - after all, you had no business in keeping in your house unemployed ex-convict who wasn't even able to have sex - but Alex was in hopeless situation and he had no other option so eventually he decided to give it a try. To his surprise, when you saw him at your door, you invited him to your house without a second thought. You knew what happened to Alex from newspapers but you also wanted to hear the whole story from his perspective.

[prettyboyhub]

thinking soooo hard about bakugo x best friend!reader who listens to punk rock

…ik this is niche pls just entertain it for a minute

not proofread at all and v low effort pls have mercy

you live in the ua dorms, just across the hall from bakugou, right? its about that time of night where you recede to your room and unwind, and this also happens to be bakugou’s bedtime. (pls it’s literally 8:30) he usually doesn’t mind when he hears your fast-beat music play distantly as he falls asleep. in all honesty, he generally likes the sound of whatever you’re playing.

tonight is no different, you’re blasting your favorite punk band, which he loves just as much. he half heartedly grumbles along with the lyrics as he tries to fall asleep, but he can’t. he’s listening to the music and his thoughts keep leading back to you. you, with your headphones in, bobbing your head along to your music before class starts. you, who does this 🤟 hand motion when you both make eye contact. you, who smiles so brightly when you see him wearing a t-shirt of an artist you like. he scrambles to hide his blush when you elbow his side and jokingly say, “i might just have to steal that from ya, katsuki.”

his mind wanders and wanders, his cheeks growing hot and and a strange feeling in his chest. the music, he decides, that’s the cause of this. with a grunt he all but leaps out of bed, bounding over to your room.

“oi, y/n!!” he calls, rapping the back of his knuckles against your door. “turn that shitty stuff down!”

your door immediately swings open as you stand there, faux offense on your face. you squint your eyes at him and retort, “the only thing shitty here is you.”

“can it, dumbass. i just want some sleep.” he growls. he tosses a glare in your direction, but never meets your eyes.

“okay, okay! sorry.” you chuckle at him and he swears he can feel his chest tighten. he turns around to leave, but not before you stop him. “wait! before i forget, i want to show you something you might like!” you quip and drag him into your room.

he looks at you, half offended at the way you just dragged him like a sack of potatoes, but the other half is so apprehensive of what you have to show him that he doesn’t say much. he sits at the end of your bed and watches you rummage through a bag in your closet.

“hurry up, let’s get this over with!” he impatiently demands. you immediately turn around with a CD in hand. it’s a signed copy of blink-182’s ‘enema of the state’. his eyes grow wide and you laugh at his reaction.

“i found it online and thought you might like it. i was gonna keep it for myself, but i already have the CD and vinyl.” you explained with a wholesome grin. he just narrows his eyes at you, this tips of his ears burning red. he snatches it from you and examines it closely.

“you think i like this shit? i don’t need it, you take it.” he scoffs, attempting to shove the CD back into your hand. he loves this album, how did you know?

“yeah, yeah, yeah. whatever,” you roll your eyes at him, “i’m not taking it back. now get the hell out of my room.” you smirk, grabbing his hand and pulling him up from your bed. he feels the cooling of your hand against his very sweaty one, and he slows down for a second. he looks at you, and even though nothing has changed, you look different. you feel different. a good different.

“oi!” you smack him in the belly, drawing him back to reality. “time to go, sleepyhead!”

“tch, whatever nerd.” he grumbles. he turns to leave and pauses for a second. it was almost inaudible, but you’re certain he said it. “thanks, i guess.”

“g’night, katsuki.” you called softly, putting your headphones on and settling in bed.

[lettersandinkstains]

congrats on finishing a wip!! Whats ur secret!!!! lmao

This isn't my first WIP I've finished, so that helped me a bit. (There's a reason I don't talk about my Vampire WIP anymore, it's done, just sitting archived for me to go in and edit it, and do a new draft of it)

Knowing my limits, taking breaks, and shelving when I start to get frustrated. If I find myself dreading the writing process, it's time to take a break and focus on something else.

I also shelved other WIPs to focus on one, otherwise I wouldn't finish anything. Too many projects meant my mind is split onto too many things, and HEMLOCKS was already established with a few interested beta's that weren't on Tumblr or any writing server - just a couple of friends I could trust with the document and liking the synopsis.

I also had Lyric's voice stuck in my head until I wrote her story and re-wrote it until I was mostly satisfied with it. I also did writ a lot of it when I was feeling low or in a bad state of mind, so some of it was just mostly vent works, drawing from my own past or a late partner's past (minus the "parent killed the other parent" part of it all), especially something that Lyric talks about that I and my late partner personally went through at different times.

It was also just reminding myself that there's no rush to finish it, perfection is never going to be achieved so I may as well just do it and write what I want to write and see in a story. It helped me that it is actually an entirely different genre than what I normally write, so I actually had to test myself and see where my limits actually lied.

Also, I didn't talk about it too much on social media so I didn't feel like I had to write a WHAM line every time or feel like I had to create, create, create and make every sentence and line meaningful and deep. It felt pretentious more than normal.

I also stopped complaining. I stopped complaining about the writing process, how I didn't know what to say or what to call it or what to do or how much I hated it, hate that, and jokes of "why can't it write itself" jokes. I stopped insulting it. It didn't feel good, I didn't feel good, it just made me hate what I was doing more, so I just decided to stop complaining about it, and started sharing what I was proud of with a select few friends.

If you speak negatively about your stuff, why should anyone else like it? Why should anyone else read it? "This story sucks and I hate writing it" vs "Some scenes are giving me trouble and I'm getting a little annoyed" are two incredibly different statements, one puts most readers off and the other is relatable. Like on A03, "I suck at summaries" won't net you shit. "This story probably sucks" won't do anything. And you'll also eventually start to believe that - what then? If you hate what you're writing it, why are you writing it?

Was it frustrating sometimes? Did I run into writers block? Yes, so I shelved it and came back to it later when I had some more inspiration. I wrote it in Google Docs entirely and would link my friends to get live responses, I wrote at home and not at work because if I wrote at work, I'd associate it with work.

If I wanted to stop writing it, I did. HEMLOCKS got put aside for awhile for fanfiction because I found not working with my own OCs for awhile genuinely helped me.

I stopped editing as I went. The best advice I ever received was, edit later, write now. Worry about mistakes and perfection later and then accept that perfection isn't possible, and that's okay!

I start writing it when I was awake and stopped when I was tired, I took breaks, I ate when I needed to, drank water when I needed to, etc. None of that, "I won't eat or drink or do anything until I write 5K words today!" Absolutely the fuck not, and I still see shit like that in writing spaces. TAKE CARE OF YOUR BODY, your brain needs that shit to WORK. A healthy body DOES equal a healthy mind, drinking some water does wonders, so does going for a short walk or focusing on something else. You need to listen to your bodies signals :/

...And I honestly stopped participating in NANO. Camp or Novembers. I honestly didn't like it, didn't like the pressure - it stopped feeling fun after awhile and started to feel like work. And I stopped talking about it altogether, except with a few friends who are close to my heart and may be the only ones to ever read it. Likely if I am asked if someone can read it, I will say no.

Lastly, I stopped posting on here. Like, I absolutely love writeblr, I've met some great people on here but - I found not posting in writing communities helped me a lot. Notes had become a big thing and I was too fixated on it, and then I realized that if it was wrecking my mental health, it's time to leave. I hate sanitizing things or writing for the masses, I like to write what I like and often times, that's WLW and not MLM. And sometimes even not romance and more something like HEMLOCKS. And I found that I was posting more about my WIPs than actually writing them or feeling motivated to write them.

I have plenty more, especially when it comes to HEMLOCKS but that's between me and the two people that know why I was working on it and what was happening like two nights ago that made me finish it.

SO this is Novel Number Two that is finished for me and I feel like I've only been able to talk about it with like three people. I am incredibly proud of myself.

[cipher-zoo]

@jazminetoad I put it under the cut, because it has gotten a little longer than I expected

I have to admit, this one had me stumped for a second. But then it hit me!

Beauty and the Beast AU or more precisely a Story based solely on these lyrics from Beauty and the Beast:

"There's something sweet And almost kind But he was mean and he was coarse and unrefined But now he's dear, and so unsure I wonder why I didn't see it there before"

And I know what people are going to say "dear, unsure?", Cipher, that's just out of character and to that I say... okay yeah, maybe! But come on! That man is so über confident, I am SURE that there is at least one part of his life, where he is a little shy. It must be. And I am deciding to take creative freedom and say that part of his life is experience.

Okay, now that that is out of the way, let's get this started.

For the sake of this story we would have to get Nami on the Victoria Punk - for my mental state's sake, I'm going to pretend that the recent chapter didn't happen. How exactly that happens isn't of much importance to us. Maybe there was a hot exit required on the last island and with the ninja-pirate-mink-samurai-alliance still going strong, Nami had to board Kid's ship. [It's okay though, they will meet with the Sunny as soon as possible]

Now on the Kid Pirates Ship we get a bit of a "Barbosa and Elisabeth Swan" Moment, where Kid in all his "maturity" decides, to try and scare Nami with his crew. After all, the aesthetic of the Sunny, vs the aesthetic of the Victoria are... different. However, he does not expect Nami to be as unfazed as she is. Sure, she is a little weirded out by some of their antics, but beneath it all she sees a crew that deeply cares about each other. And she can relate to that.

She also reprimands Kid and tells him, that it is foolish of him to assume that the Sunny can't get as rowdy as the Punk, just because their color scheme is different.

At this point, Kid say something along the line of: "You pretty princesses always get scared of shit like this."

Which would lead beautifully into a "You think I'm pretty?" "No-, I said you look shitty!" Situation, btw.

That kicks off a sort of "rivalry", where both Kid and Nami will try to antagonize the other [Nami is far more successful in riling Kid up, because Kid is easily riled up] and they settle quite well into that dynamic. It almost turns into some kind of game.

Now, a few days into them lying low - again, the reason for that is to be decided - Nami decides to take a peak at Kid's maps - to see if there is any information she can take from them, that she doesn't already have herself.

While doing that, she stumbles across some of his mechanical drawings. Of things, he built or wants to build etc. She also sees that quite a few of them have a some splashes of ink or lines, where they shouldn't be any.

So she decides to show Kid, how she draws on the Sunny, so that her ink won't smear - even with a rowdy crew.

Kid is, surprisingly mellow at the time, maybe even thankful for the tip - not that he would admit that - and they get talking. About how and why they spend their times drawing on their ships. Neither reveals their full backstory, but it is enough to ensure that the other understands why their work is important to them.

They get surprisingly close during their conversation and Nami realizes that Kid has a far softer side to him, something she saw glimpses of before, when he protected his crew. It is a welcome change to his usual brash behavior, and she finds it strangely endearing, when he blushes and pulls away, when they get a little too close to each other.

Nami uses this moment in his quarters to steal something of his - something not too important, just a little trinket she can keep. But something that, once noticed, he would miss.

So when a while later the Sunny and the Victoria meet up and Nami returns to her own crew, she shows Kid the trinket just a few seconds before the Sunny bursts away. Thus, starting a cat and mouse game, where every time the two crews meet, Kid and Nami will try to steal something off the other (Nami is FAR more successful, but Kid manages ones or twice) until FINALLY one of them steals a kiss!

[atieflingtime]

GAME: A Fool’s Errand by Mike Free

DESCRIPTION: “You are the jester in King Lyrics’ court. Through mere observation you discovered a conspiracy threatening their rule. You now have the fruitless task of warning their majesty.”

ITEMS NEEDED: A deck of playing cards (jokers included)

THOUGHTS: I read the rules wrong! I used both the number and suit of the same card to determine the petitioner, rather than drawing one card for the kind of petitioner and a second one for their relation to the conspiracy.

My mistake didn’t wind up taking enjoyment out of the game at all (which is a plus in my books!) since it also means it didn’t rely on everything being followed exactly. The only thing is I had to adjust to not getting repeat petitioners, but that’s because of my mistake rather than anything in the actual game haha and it still worked out well imo

It was pretty interesting to play through a situation where your goal is futile — like no matter how much your jester character desperately wants to warn the king about the conspiracy, they are destined to ultimately fail.

Perhaps having some reference to what sort of timeframe in-game we’re playing under? I think that’s really the only thing that could be a tweak, but tbh ain’t ABSOLUTELY needed since players can decide how long time is between petitioners. I kinda threw myself off since I didn’t make myself any time indicators in my own text-playthru but I intended it to be seen as taking place over several years!

I think I played for about 3 hours? Definitely could have gone on for longer but my shuffling put my two joker cards only one card apart lol

Also I’ll be entirely honest I don’t know anything about jesters or courts but I had a lot of fun :P

unedited playthru is under the readmore (:

The King: (8 of diamonds) A prophesied demi-god Goal of the conspiracy: (Queen of hearts) eradicate loyalty to the king

The King is prophesied to be a demi-god, half-seeded from the god of the sun. There’s a conspiracy brewing to eradicate loyalty to the king — people whispering he’s no sun god’s son.

The Jester is a rather rude man. The sharp smile combined with a foxed face makes even the kind words he says, however infrequent, sound rude and disingenuous.

FIRST PETITIONER: 3 of Clubs A merchant asking for a permit to sell wine; unaware of the conspiracy

I could hear the merchant approach before he rounded the corner to walk through the archways of the hearing hall. He was already fat and jingled with the coins in his coin purses. His strides were clipped and unconfident, and the etching of uncertainty showed in the flush of his face. This wasn’t anything I hadn’t watched happen before. People are funny when in the presence of others they think are above them.

Watching his flushed face as he spoke to the court of the god-king — I didn’t realise anyone could costume themselves to look like they had berries smeared across their nose and cheeks so thoroughly without ever touching the fruit — it seemed just pedestrian petitioning for a permit. The maroon of his clothes stitched in greens and yellows didn’t look familiar, and there was no other families in the area with royal ambitions that had that particular stitching colouring that I could recall. And I would be able to, if there were.

After the rambling, disorganised, and frankly extraneous request was ended with the merchant’s voice petering out, my god-king looked to me and gave me a nod. The beginning bell of my performance.

In a fluid motion, I got to my feet and removed the heavy winter weight cloak I’d left sat beside me. Fashioning it around me in a crude approximation of the size of the merchant, I bound to the court’s floor making deliberate movements to the bells on my wrists with my footfalls. Jingle your coin at me, and I will jingle back. It means nothing to me.

A wide arc of my arms out hold them as far apart as I was able, punctuating the movement with a flick of my wrists to make the bells tink. “Oh dear, glorious, illustrious, golden god-king of whichever other descriptors my father of name Orszak before me told me to call you to flatter you.”

Small stifled chuckles rippled through a few of the court attendants.

“I wish to request permission to drink my wine-wares inside of the city walls for coin!” An over exaggerated sway as I stood, “pardon me, I want to sell the wine I am unable to drink myself to the fair peoples of your inner city.” I jingled my wrist-bells again, tugged at the lapels of my overcoat. “We produce it ourselves; Orszak family name is proud. My father was the businessman, I’m merely inheriting his routes.”

Glancing over to the Merchant, his large grey eyes were fixed to the floor.

I postured my hands out, palms up but not supplicating like a beggar, my back kept farm-straight. “My father and elder brother, Tomasz Orszak, were only recently unfound through their route. An injured and scared ass only what we’ve found so far.” My nod was slow, and could easily be mistaken for a theatrical over-exaggerated motion, but my unwavering eye contact with the god-king let him know my personal answer. “I am the second-son and thought always my future was in the fields.”

The second eldest Orszak merchant rubbed a wrist, one of his meaty hands covering over the pulse point and lightly wiping the crooked and dirt-marred thumb of his rubbing his skin. Nerves from a fish out of water. Or a farmer without a field, I guess.

The god-king raised one of his slender, gilded hands. I straightened and stood as motionless as I was able. The courtiers sounded like they were holding their breath.

“You are approved for you and your foodwares to be sold inside the inner city,” the god-king’s voice was smooth and tinny, “I ask for your family to write a formal request with your situation, in addition to sending one of your ilk to acquire the permit.”

The merchant visibly sagged in relief — all the tension pulling his spine tight leaving in an instant. He thanked the god-king in a thick and clumsy country term, and left quickly.

I knew the look in the god-king’s eyes was saying to me that I was took harsh in my initial portrayal. That’s fine. He’s allowed to be wrong about things as interpretive as art. Though that certainly wouldn’t be an opinion I’d ever let taste oxygen.

SECOND PETITIONER: 9 of Diamonds A doctor needs subjects for research ; a neutral party in the conspiracy

Doctors always had a particular stench that seemed to follow them. Maybe death, but more likely just a miasma of sickness. This one was different from the rest. They stood rod-straight, but their shoulders rounded forward to create an odd gathering of fabric draping over their chest cavity. When told to remove any of their garb, they refused. A curiously higher-than-expected voice carried muffled from the beak-mask of the doctor. I decided not to include that peculiarity in my performance.

Not being able to see the doctor’s face made my job more challenging, but when the god-king gave his nod, I had no choice but to perform.

They were aware of the conspiracy for treason — I could tell that much — but it seemed they weren’t swayed to either way. Doctors were hard to convince into the kingdom, and seldom lasted very long. I wasn’t about to dissuade this one from continuing.

I stood as tall as I was able, jutting my chest out instead of caving it in like the doctor was. There must be a reason they’re keeping that posture, and I was not going to draw attention to it with my performance. “”Regardless of any situations that arrive,” I tried my best approximation of their accent, eating my Rs and pushing the sides of my tongue to my teeth, “matters of the body still need to be investigated.”

Arching my arms to hold my palms up to the gilded ceiling, a position of higher pleading. “These subjects of research will help future generations of the sun-god’s kingdom.”

Eye contact. Slow nod.

Approval.

THIRD PETITIONER: 3 of Diamonds A merchant asking for a permit ; neutral party to the conspiracy.

Immediately, I didn’t like how this merchant walked into the court. He looked too at-ease and comfortable.

His ashy straw-coloured hair laid in a thick plait twisted around itself and pinned against the back of his neck. Impossibly intricate embroidery made the previously soft felt-fabric stiff and likely itchy. Stabbing storm-silver in jagged patterns through the cobalt sky of his coats. A brilliant red waist-apron secured with a thick blue cord weighted at the ends with metalcrafts spilled down his lap like a bloody waterfall.

The nod.

“God-King,” I tried to force my voice to have the same tenor as the petitioner, “even as I stand here asking for permits to continue growing my hoard of silver, I speak to you as one powerful man to another.” I glanced to the merchant, his dark eyes glowering at me from where he stood. “Do you not deign to meet me on the same level? Truly it isn’t so far down?”

A murmur of light shock and gossip rustled through the rest of the court.

“These goods are merely the work of others, but I know I’m among compatriots when it comes to building things off others.” The merchants face was flushing in anger. I locked eyes with the god-king, and lolled my head side to side in a ‘no’ while speaking, “There’s few differences, yes?”

Denial of the petition. The merchant spat at me when he left. I’d fear I’ve made more enemies than allies in my time here but I don’t particularly care either way. When the god-king dies, I’ll still be alive.

FIFTH PETITIONER: 4 of Hearts A famous musician hoping to be commissioned ; loyal to the king.

If the clang of brass and the hollow noises sounding when she rounded a corner too closely weren’t enough of a tip-off, then her poufed hat with feathers and filigree certainly took out the guesswork.

She hoped to be commissioned for at least one ballad extolling the virtues and benefits of the god-king and his kingdom. From the rolling of her silver ring, however, I believe she was hoping to be taken on as a resident artist. Those kinds of silver rings were made by hand only for those who you loved.

Nod. Expectations or my performance.

I took a supplicants posture. “Would you not want someone so deeply in love to write and sing about the beauty inside the fair kingdom of the god-king?” A jingle of my wrist-bells and I dramatically gripped my abdomen. “For one to give you and your subjects the love I have felt inside my heart and soon to grow in my belly?”

Wide-faced fear and surprise jolted through on the musician’s face, her lips sticking out just a bit as she ground her teeth to try and keep the expression from pulling any noises from her throat.

Eye contact to the god-king. “Merely exchange my talents to the god-king in return to consistent work and stable housestays for me and mine.” I nod to him.

The musician glossy eyes nearly overflowed when the god-king said she will be held for contract, and her own may also live in one of the sites in the inner city.

FIRST JOKER DRAWN

My words were quick and plain. “There’s a conspiracy whispered through the inner city and the fields outside it.” I stood straight, shoulders far more relaxed than I felt. There was far more than whispers snaking their way through the ears of the god-king’s spheres of influence. Even the more loyal subjects of his were wavering in their faiths.

I’m not wholly surprised.

The god-king has been taking less and less interest in the common subject — preferring to dote on emissaries from surrounding kingdoms, boldly to the detriment of the people that keep him safe.

“If there’s more than a whisper, then that’s when we will simply order them buried,” the god-king’s voice disgusts me for the first time. It sounds greased from the pheasant poached in butter he’d eaten with the jewel-dripping emissaries from the southwestern country lining the border.

I nodded. I couldn’t look him in the eyes.

“Leave if there’s nothing interesting to come out of you, then.”

I did as I was told.

SIXTH PETITIONER: 10 of Spades A diplomat attempting to establish a new trade agreement ; part of the conspiracy

The diplomats were certainly a sight to behold.

The main speaker out of the pair of them was tall and glinting with the sheer amount of filigree inlaid to the layers of cloth draped so delicatly in dizzying amounts. I couldn’t make sense of when a swath of fabric ended and another started, or if they were just metres-long sheets of finery folded in meticulous ways. Her hair hung heavy over her back near-below her shoulderblades, with the ends of it somehow tied and pinned under so the shown length was only half the true amount. It was covered with constellations of filigree pins inlaid with precious stones.

Her companion was a man in similar stature to her. His foxed face reminded me of my own, though his eyes were rimmed with a purposeful soot, and his mouth was less scarred from teeth. The same dizzying swaths of fabric made up his clothing, though his seemed less imbued with threaded metal since it didn’t glimmer the same way as the speaker’s did. There was a heavy overcoat of fabric placed over his shoulders, splitting somewhere under his long hair from the single pane down his back, to two tails down either side of his neck. The leather belt holding it tight to his waist almost looked out of place, but it clinked and glittered with chatelaines full of golden curiosities.

“A new trade agreement needs to be worked out,” the Speaker’s voice was clear and decisive. “Your kingdom is left wanting.”

The god-king sat with glazed over eyes — bored before any conversation had ever started. This was exactly why the conspiracy has been able to grow like wildfire. Apathy was oxygen to its fire.

I watched the man, beautiful and glinting, move his rough hands over to an empty spot on his belt. Probably habit from having a sword or other weapon hung there for longer than it rested elsewhere. “I implore you to listen to the Speaker,” is voice held less presence than the Speaker’s, but it was oaky and I wanted to hear more.

A moment of pause before the god-king waved his hand dismissively and turned to me. “Perform. Now.” His eyes slid off me as soon as the word was spat out.

I ground my teeth. I didn’t expect to be treated as even partly an equal, but I never would have though the king I served to the detriment of my life milestones to not even look at me as he spat commands.

Rising from my seat — downgraded severely from my previous spot near the court’s seats, to a threadbare pillow on the chilled floor with the petitioners — I exhaled and dropped my shoulders. Trying to relax my jaw and prevent soreness from grinding my teeth. I stood straight and unwavering, feet squared and arms bent lightly out at the elbows with my palms down. I can feel the metal in my over-cloak bite me in the ribs.

“I implore you to listen to the Speaker,” I repeated the man’s lovely oaky words in my own thistled voice. A deep, measured breath shook its way out of my throat. I repeated the Speaker’s words with as much clarity as I could lend my own voice. “Your kingdom is left wanting.”

SECOND JOKER The conspiracy is successful ; game finish.

I threw knife.

Gods don’t bleed, and neither do their offspring. The former king proved to be neither.

[esparafuso]

Monday, November 7th, 2022

Dear Diary, where do I even begin. Perhaps saying I still can't believe I saw my favourite band performing live for the first time.

I'm an anxious person and shows always seemed so far away from me, from where I lived and from what I thought I'd have the guts of attending. If it wasn't for my friend Lya (@/sorethpid) I'd perhaps still be dreaming about how cool it would be if I lived the same experience I keep seeing others have for years and years.

In an impulse, we bought tickets for Primavera Sound 2022 happening in São Paulo. It wasn't cheap, but both of us had savings and were crazy enough to spend it on a ticket and flight tickets and a hotel room.

We live in different states, so it was thrilling to meet her again (third time personally), as we met on the internet 6 years ago here on tumblr, two artists drawing Arctic Monkeys fanart and rambling to the other about our favourite things about them, and our favourite album, and how much we wish we had the chance of hearing them live.

It happened on Saturday, November 5th. Her first festival, my first show ever in life, we got to the place and tried to keep it cool among all the stylish people around. It was okay though, we were just happy to be there. We decided to buy two donuts (we admittedly didn't plan food very well, too anxious to get to the place already) and after a couple stops we headed to the stage to take a look, but decided to stay there already when we saw the narrow place and the realisation that soon the whole thing would be packed w ppl hit us (later on, we saw we would better had stopped by a nearby bathroom for Lya, but okay)

The gig would start at 10pm, and we were there at 4:30pm. We got to know the music of a sweet artist called Helado Negro, which we supported and danced along even not knowing the lyrics. One hour and a half break, and then came Interpol. I personally didn't listen to the band much, but they kicked ass and made everyone super pumped and jumpy (myself included). Another one hour and a half before AM.

Gigs aren't kind to shorter ppl, we learned that. We tried our best to adjust and see the stage (which was actually way closer than we expected to get) and managed with some struggle. Our boots were also a literal pain, and I don't remember feeling my feet hurting this bad in my life, to the point I had to keep dancing to keep the pain manageable - only forgotten when an artist was performing. Especially the ones we were dying to see more.

Seeing the stage being set up made us already excited. Matt's golden drumkit, Nick's bass, Alex's and Jamie's guitars going through the soundproof, curtains being set on the back of the stage - we saw THREE regular sized disco balls being brought up when Interpol's stage was being set, and we knew who they belonged to, and yet they didn't make it to the final thing for AM.

After 3 false alarms, here they come. Screams ringing in my ear, I saw those four men (plus two) walk into my sight of vision and I can't even describe how I felt. They quickly assumed positions and the heavy synth of Sculptures resonated from the speakers - the The Car song we were more hopeful they would perform (we didn't even know they had played it before in Rio).

the photos really aren't the strongest bcs of how overwhelmed I was and the little space in my phone (another thing I forgot to prepare properly, like an idiot)... some recordings didn't go through, like Potion approaching, which made me sad but at least I got some :'D

I wish I could put here what my eyes saw, because I could see their FACIAL FEATURES from where I was, which was unbelievable close in my book. I managed to save the recording of Pretty Visitors, really hoping to get my beloved Agile Beast's crazy good drumming

I recorded another for Do Me a Favour, my favourite Arctic Monkeys song, where I kept shaking from crying but can't upload here pls of Tumblr's limit of videos in a post.

The whole time I sang and danced and screamed and cried, I just kept repeating in my head that they were real people, they existed, they weren't a fever dream or a gif or a video I saw on the internet, they were living humans right in front of me, and up until now I can't wrap my head around the fact I stood so close to them. I listened to them sing and play a few meters away from me, I could feel Matt's drums resonating in my heart, I saw Nick on the side looking SO soft, Jamie being the closest one, doing his little quirks and hops, Alex singing and dancing and. being a goofie, Matt playing and singing and making me absolutely lose it.

Even now typing all this makes me cry becasue I know I will never forget this experience. I just love and appreciate this band so much. I'm not the fan that knows all the lyrics of ALL songs yet, and I don't have their physical merch and albums, and this was only the first time I saw them live, but they hold a very special and meaningful place in my life that I will never forget.

The crowd overall was amazing, we sang everything they put out, screamed our lungs out and clapped and threw our hands in the air and pleaded them to come back. They waved to everyone and Alex threw us many kisses, and I hope they enjoyed their night as much as we basked in their presence.

Leaving the festival was very difficult due to bad logistics, my feet were incredibly sore, it was super cold outside and hundreds of ppl couldn't get a ride back home for the life of us - but we managed. And even then, when we arrived at the hotel, the only memory in our minds was their presence and their music still buzzing in our heads and hearts.

I hope we will have the chance of going to another one - we sure are thirsty for more now that we saw that it IS possible to see them live - but until then: Thank you Monkeys for this unforgettable night, and for existing and making us feel such strong emotions with your amazing music and journey as a band overall.

P.s.: thank you also whoever recorded the gig properly, because then we can see everything we lived in another, high definition angle, for the rest of our lives.