#all these audiobooks and the office is too busy to listen to them

[silverskye13]

I am bored out of my mind

[houseofanticipation]

You're sitting with your friend Sam at a coffee shop, catching up. She's telling you about an instagram ad she keeps getting for some audiobook streaming service. "It's just crazy," she says, "because I was just telling Lucille I wanted to start reading more books but I never have the time, and then it's like instantly I'm getting these ads all the time."

"So what," you say over your steaming mug, "you think they're listening to you?"

Sam shakes her head. "Honestly I think it's almost scarier than that. They have so much information about us, they don't even need to listen to our conversations. They just know, based on everything they've gathered about me, that I'm probably someone who wants to listen to audiobooks."

"Well they can't be that smart," you say. "Because the only ads I've been getting lately are for something called Slut Cream."

Sam raises an eyebrow. "You must know I'm going to need more details."

You take out your phone and find an ad to show her. It's not difficult; literally all of the ads you see on instagram are like this. They're even showing up in other places now, on webpages you visit or apps you use. This one is one you've seen before: a beautiful woman in a crop top that just barely covers her nipples is proudly displaying a squeeze tube of the kind you'd buy sunscreen or toothpaste in. The caption says, "Being a slut isn't a hobby—it's a lifestyle! Step up your slut game with Slut Cream! Shop Now"

"I don't even know what slut cream is," you say. "All you get when you look it up is a bunch of porn."

"Well, obviously it's a way to step up your slut game," says Sam sagely. "What does it say on the website?"

"Oh, I'm not clicking the link," you say. "I don't want to encourage them! What I want to know is why suddenly this ad is all I can seem to see!"

Sam shoots you a wink. "Maybe you're just a slut. These data brokers know us better than we know ourselves."'

What neither of you know is that it's actually quite easy to buy online ad space, and they let you get pretty specific with your intended audience.

I live in the next apartment over from you. I've been watching you for a long time, studying you, listening to you through our shared wall. We've talked a few times, some terse conversation at the mailboxes or in the hall, which is how I knew enough about you to place those ads, with audience parameters so specific that probably only you and about five other people would see them. I had fun making them; hiring the model to do the photoshoot, dusting off the skills I picked up in that college graphic design course, creating a website for this fake business (though I'm disappointed you still haven't clicked through to see it). If you actually tried to buy slut cream, the website would tell you we're currently closed due to high traffic, and to check back later. Nowhere on the website does it explain what slut cream is.

A number of strange things happen to you over the course of the following day. On your lunch break you walk down the block to the deli by your office. You're in here every weekday, but today the energy here is different. People are staring you, side-eyeing you, having whispered conversations that stop abruptly when you get too close. As you're walking back to work, an old woman spits on the ground as you pass, you'd swear you heard the word "whore!" hissed under her breath. You wonder if you should say something, stand up for yourself, but she's elderly, probably confused, and you decide to be the bigger person.

In the hours after lunch, you're propositioned by no less than seven of your male coworkers. You've had to refuse a few invitations to dinner in your time, but seven in a day is completely out of the ordinary, and the things these men are offering to do to you go way outside the bounds of first date stuff. One guy tells you the conference room is empty, if you want to go for a quick fuck; another guy tells you he hasn't cum in a month, and if you sucked his cock he'd pump so much cum down your throat that you wouldn't need to eat dinner. Your boss even tells you he and his wife are looking for a third and he thought of you first, like he's offering you a big promotion. The strangest thing is that all of these men seem genuinely surprised when you turn them down. Like this sort of thing usually works with girls. One guy even says, "sorry, I was just trying to help."

It was pretty easy to hire actors for the deli and the street. You go to the same place every day, so I knew where they'd have to go and roughly when they'd need to be there. The harder part was getting your coworkers to play along, especially because I was picky about getting people who could sell the act. For a few of them all it took was money. A few of them I had to blackmail. For your boss I had to call in a favor, get his boss to threaten his job. He protested, but I think it made his cock hard, thinking about fucking you alongside his wife.

I keep this up for a few weeks. Anywhere you go I have people watching you, talking about you behind your back. I have people approaching you on the train, at the park, in restaurants, offering to fuck you like they're doing you a favor. You stay firm in your refusal—I wouldn't have expected any less from you—but I can tell it's beginning to eat at you. I watch you try to figure out what you're doing that seems to give all these people the wrong idea about you; you start to dress more modestly, talk less, even walk a little less confidently. But none of this will change anything. All it will do is make you feel more repressed.

After a month, I decide it's time to make my move. I could probably wait longer, but the anticipation is getting too much for me, and besides, you're beginning to get a little wild around the eyes. I'd hate to break you before I've had my fun. One evening, when I know you're home, I unlock your apartment with the duplicate key I had made two months ago. You're in the kitchen, washing dishes with headphones on; you didn't hear me come in. I leave the door open as I approach you, admiring the way you shake your ass to whatever it is you're listening to. I get right up behind you and stay there for a moment, lavishing in your innocence, feeling my cock strain at my belt as I imagine taking it away from you. Then I reach around front of you with both arms and plunge my hand into your panties

You shout in shock, fight back, try to push me off as the headphones fall off your head. But I've got you pinned against the counter, my full body weight against you, one hand down your pants, the other groping your breasts. Once you realize that fighting won't help, you stop struggling and ask me what I want. "Please," you say. Just hearing that quiver in your voice almost makes me delirious with lust. "Please, let me go. I don't want this, please."

I bury my face in your neck, kissing and breathing you in. You smell incredible, like fear and sweat and sex. I bring my lips up to your ear, let them brush against you as I speak. "Of course you want this, baby. You've been trying so hard to hide it, but you don't have to hide with me. Look, you left the door open for me." I let you turn your head enough to see the door hanging open just as my fingers find your clit. I'm rubbing you gently, tenderly, just the way I've watched you touch yourself through the webcam I have in your room. My other hand is under your shirt now and I'm squeezing your breast, rolling your nipple between my fingers, feeling it slowly grow full and erect. You try to stifle a soft moan and I kiss your neck again. "It's okay, baby. You don't have to be ashamed. It's okay to want to feel good. Let me make you feel good."

You clutch your face in your hands and let out a cry of frustration and humiliation and agony and pleasure. You barely know me; I'm the guy next door who sometimes looks at you a little too long. The guy you speed up to avoid in the hall. But that feeling radiating from you clit... You think how exhausting it's been, doing everything you could think of to change people's perception of you, get them to stop looking at you as a slut, how none of it has done you any good anyway. You wonder if you'd have had more fun fucking Jim in the conference room, or swallowing Dylan's cum, or having a threesome with your boss and his wife. And that throbbing in your clit, the agonizing pleasure...You remember that beautiful woman in the ad: "Being a slut isn't a hobby—it's a lifestyle!" You think about how happy she looked, how fulfilled. You remember Sam's words: "These data brokers know us better than we know ourselves."

It does feel good, doesn't it? To let me touch you, pleasure you, to let go of this act you've been holding on to. Isn't it okay to want to feel good? Why did you ever let anyone make you ashamed of that? You try out another moan, letting the pleasure well up through your chest and out your mouth. It feels good, so you try another, and another, and then you're leaning back into me, grinding up against me, delighting in the feeling of my hard cock against your ass.

"Good," I say. "You're letting go of those silly hang-ups. Now we can have our real fun." My hands still around you, controlling you, I half lead-half carry your trembling body to the bedroom. I throw you on the bed, face up so I can get a good look at your eyes, see what I've done to your mind. Those same eyes that have avoided me in the hall so many times now gaze hungrily up at me, wanting me, needing me.

Who am I do decline?

I pull off your pants and panties as a single unit, letting you take care of your shirt for yourself. I kick of my own bottoms, letting my throbbing cock slap against your leg as it springs from its confinement. Don't think I don't notice the way your whole body shivers when it touches you. I lift your legs and push your knees up towards your ears; you're remarkably flexible. It must be all that yoga I've watched you do at the place downtown. I've greatly enjoyed your visits to that place, so it's nice to see they weren't in vain.

You're afraid of me, all of a sudden. Maybe some part of you is seeing sense, realizing you'd have to be crazy to let a guy like me come into your home and fuck you like this. But what was the alternative? Have me rape you? Let me tell you, darling: I would have raped you. You feel the head of my cock gliding over your skin, exploring your inner thighs and pubic area, and tremble at my touch. I want this, you tell yourself. This is what a slut like me needs.

All the same, you cry a little bit when I penetrate you. It's not because it hurts—it does hurt a bit, but you're wet enough, and it's not entirely a bad pain. It's not because you're afraid—well, maybe in part, but that's not the core of it. You cry because you're finally letting go. Letting go of the person you used to be, or thought you were. It's the relief of knowing you don't have to pretend anymore, wrapped up with the mourning you feel when you lose a potential version of yourself. I lean across you as my cock fills you up, and tenderly, I kiss away your tears. "Hush, my darling. I'm here. I will always be here. I will love you despite what you are, when everyone else turns away in disgust."

My weight on you feels good, comforting. The way I press down on your legs, stretching you out, driving my cock so deep inside you that it brushes your cervix. It hurts a little, but is that any better than you deserve? Could a slut like you really expect to find better than this? Better than unconditional love and a desire to give you the pleasure you need?

I'm speeding up now, my face something like an animal, furious and insistent as I gaze down at you. There's darkness behind my eyes, you think, something cold and cruel. You thank God I'm on your side. My hips are like a hammer on your pelvis now, and with each thrust you feel my cock bulging inside you, throbbing and pulsating with anticipation. When I finally plant my seed in you, groaning and growling and pressing you further into the bed, you find there's something comforting about the warmth of my cum inside you. Maybe my seed will take root, make you swell up with me, make you mine. As I roll off you, huffing and panting, the tears begin to stream down your face again, this time from joy.

What did a slut like you ever do to deserve someone who loves you like I do?

[reveluving]

make it double (headcanons i) ; phillip graves x reader x jeff sadecki

warnings: s~mut (minors DNI!), mentions of injuries, past bullies have NOTHING on the three of you, overall, loads of fluff!

a/n: main fic is still in the works, and just so you know, I've made quite satisfying progress! I love them too much, so have some headcanons as a little gift from me to you! I recommend reading this before continuing, they take place anytime after the main fic! & pls don’t forget to leave some sugar! ᐠ( ᐛ )ᐟ

» interested in more of the series? find it here & here!

smut includes: mm4f relationship (no incest), phil & jeff are soft (+ occasionally mean) doms, mentions of phone s~ex, dirty talk,praise kink, unprotected s~ex (p in v), dp; blindfold, cunnilingus, nipple play, spitting & licking, risqué polaroids, aftercare—the whole shebang!

You or Phil refusing to return to Wiskayok without the other. If you have to stay back a day or two to finish your work, Phil is staying too, and vice versa. No question. You'll help each other out, even if only the two of you remain in the office. His office is a dream; overlooking the city at night as you'd chat and banter and make out. 

Jeff never forgets to order your favourite milkshake at the town’s diner, whether for takeout or if you're coming over a little later. He doesn't even ask, he just gets it for you. 

You and Phil helping out or hanging out with Jeff at his store every once in a while. Jeff doesn't let it happen often, because the business can get pretty slow and he doesn't want to bore you. But when you do stop by, the day passes faster and if it really is just the three of you, you take the opportunity to be freaky in the storeroom.

Phil taking your hands in his and feeling them whenever he's sitting next to you. If they feel particularly dry/rough, he'll instinctively take the travel pack of moisturizer out of your pocket, warm the cream between his palms before rubbing it onto your hands.

Cooking nights! On days when it's Jeff's turn to work the kitchen, you tag along. He trusts you with most of the duties, but nothing more than cutting and preparing the ingredients when it comes to Phil. You don't mind it though, it still gives you all the chances to ogle at their arms whenever they roll up their sleeves. 

Phil can cook to some degree, though he’s not as versatile as his brother. And as siblings, they’d argue over the smallest things, though they’re never serious… most of the time. You, on the other hand, find it hilarious, seeing Phil trying to defend himself (“they’re good ‘nough!”) while he goes back and forth with his brother over the pettiest things like poorly chopped veggies (“are you kidding me?!”)

But we can’t not acknowledge Phil’s barbecue skills! From the well-seasoned proteins to the heartiest sides, rest assured, your plates of smokey goodness are in good hands, regardless of your diet!

+ Each time they walk past you from behind, expect them to steal a few kisses; on your lips, shoulder, the nape of your neck, or cheek!

Grocery shopping! Mama knows all of you don't need to go, but she prefers not to separate any of you. Imagine if you're having a hard time picking between two cereals, so you ask the brothers’ opinions. Despite the one-year age gap, they have and use their ‘twin’ telepathy to simultaneously agree on the one they know you'd respond more positively to.

If you know/picked up a new language, please know that the brothers will take advantage of it. Immensely. Phil has already asked you to translate certain words out of the blue, or even documents! He says it’s ‘for work’ but really, he just wants his ears to be blessed by your voice. Say a few sentences and ask him if he’s taking notes or jotting them down instead of listening to you like an audiobook.

Similarly, Jeff buys you novels of the language in question and listens to you just like an audiobook, but in his humble opinion, better. Fret not, he makes sure to read the reviews of the books before buying, so you enjoy reading them just as much as he and his brother do listening to you.

If you return from your latest mission with an injury, then Phil dresses your wounds while Jeff buys you the necessary antibiotics/medicine.

+ Mama makes your favourites and will not listen to your protests. Be careful though; if she finds you doing any heavy-duty activities, be prepared to receive the Southern scolding of a lifetime.

Because Jeff likes to shave off his facial hair completely, whereas Phil prefers to keep his stubble, you have different routines for the two! While they usually take place on different days, if they happen to clash, they play this little game over who gets your attention more. A little peck on your shoulder, and you're turning around to shoot Phil a playful glare. Or a quick touch of the small of your back, and you're playfully swatting Jeff’s hand so his brother wouldn't leave with a bald patch.

They adore each and every pleasurable reaction you display. Still, one of their absolute favourites is when you try to hide yourself by turning your head to the side as one brother eats you out, circling their tongue on your clit. Encouraging you to suffocate them with their hands gripping your legs. 

In contrast, the other holds you from behind, licking a stripe between your neck and shoulder, either, growling, making fun of your little moans, or whispering the nastiest words known to man into your ear. Unless you use your safeword, don't even think about running away from their arms.

Putting a blindfold on you and making you guess which brother is sucking on your neck, running their hands down your stomach or even kissing up your leg. Each time you get it wrong, they either tug at your tits, bite down on your neck just a tad harder or slap your inner thigh. Anywhere but your pussy.

Risqué polaroids; a classic mention in my works! Phil already has a few, his favourite is the photo of you sitting on his office chair in nothing more than a lacey lingerie, your face partially covered with your hands and one of Phil’s Rolex watches loosely clasped around your wrist. Because Phil had requested you in such, it was only fair to allow Jeff to decide as well. 

So, after weeks of thinking, he opted for you draped in one of his dress shirts, posing with your face half-hidden in a pillow. Like his brother, the sacred polaroid is hidden in the deepest slots of his wallet.

Phil has shown him the other polaroids, too; the kinds that would give their Mama a heart attack if she ever got hold of it. Since then, taking pictures of you has become a thing whenever you fool around behind closed doors.

Jeff sending you videos of him playing with his cock whenever you're out of town the same way Phil does if your deployment requires your team and his to split up. Jeff’s videos usually begin where he’s mid-pumping, head tilting back on the bed while Phil’s is moving his hands up and down ever so slowly as he slurs out your name, looking directly into the camera with an intense stare as beads of cum leak out little by little.

+ Bonus if you spot a polaroid of you in the video/call!

Aftercare with the two is a dream; soft kisses around your body, sweet reassurances and praises in your ear, and more. When one tends to you, the other fetches the necessary, be it damp towels, a refreshing cup of water, or even pillows and blankets. 

Even if one has an emergency to attend to, the other will stay and keep you company—God forbid if both sides of you grow cold. Nothing is more valuable than seeing you extra comfortable, even in your most vulnerable state. 

Becoming the talk of the town after a few of Mama’s friends shared the time they visited her house and saw photos of the three of you recently framed and decorating the wall/coffee table. Some find it cute, already considering you high school sweethearts despite no explicit confirmations of your relationship. Some despise it, but nobody dares to voice it out unless they want Phil to catch word of it.

Absolutely surprising the familiar faces around town when they actually see you, be it your friends like Crystal, who squealed and pulled you into a hug when you bumped into her, or foes like anyone who pestered and looked down upon you for somehow being close friends with the brothers at the time. 

Funnily enough, the boys enjoy the latter just a little more compared to the former since it gives them the chance to show you off. Rub your strength and successes in their face without even doing much other than treating you the way you deserve.

+ Imagine one of those ‘POV you’re at the airport, passing by international students’ videos but the three of you are the ‘snazzy’ (or read: doing something better with your lives) students and the bullies just stand there tearing up in shame BYEEE

˚ · . f i n . · ˚

a/n: i love these three + mama so MUCH????? FAWK ;; gorgeous rose divider by @firefly-graphics ♡

MiD taglist ♡ : @unicorngirly1 @teddy2510 @ashableketchup

[rikli]

Tag someone you want to know better OR just want to say hello to!

tagged by @hanjuwonsupporter and i'm always grateful for the tags!!! (even if sometimes i don't do them bc i'm mostly on mobile ;;)

favourite color: so so many actually, but let's go with burnt orange or that color between orange and yellow, delicious

last song: the summoning by sleep token (still deep into listening to sleep token all the time)

last movie: bestie had free tickets and we chose a haunting in venice and it was good! crime with horror elements? delicious, good intro to halloween season hehe

currently watching: started so many shows... song of bandits (with netflix money it should look more expensive imo but what won't i do for kim nam gil...), for i lighter watch it's destined with you (it's shrugs but i actually enjoy k-romances most of the times so here we are lol), started shelter yesterday and it's so insane idk what to think about it, and that's all i remember, because i have many more but who knows if i'll ever finish them... oopsie but i did finish moving the other day and that was suuuper fun and super good!

currently reading: am i even reading anything rn... i'm listening to an audiobook (polish crime) and i'm most of the times too tired to read (i know it should be relaxing but then i'd simply fall asleep like for real my body and mind work very... yeah)

currently working on: working on work sdjhsdjla yeah anyway we have a lot of work at the office and i'm working on not spening all my money on every treat i see and i haven't been writing for a good year or more because i'm always so damn tired,,, miss writing at work when i wasn't busy sigh

current obsession: sleep token music and woodz music (as always), playing the witcher 3, plat based grated meat (i can do my fave dishes with it like spaghetti and dan dan noodles and many more yes delicious), checking if my cat didn't piss on anything i love - she's using her litter box no problem but sometimes she just... yeah HERE and we're at the vet all the time so idk what a little shit (she's old so maybe that's why) oh and still beyond evil i'm always beyond eviling

tagging whoever wants to do this this is fun and please tag me!

[megan-loves-surveys]

Haven't used this in forever but I miss Bzoink so here I am instead xD

What are some of your favorite cities you’ve been to?  Hmm, I loved New Orleans, NYC and Boston a lot. Also Melbourne!!

Would you allow your children to date prior to 16? I'm not having kids, but if I did, I'd be a hypocrite if I didn't, cos I started dating at 14 lol.

Did you ever go through a phase where you thought guys in bands were ‘hot?’ Of course, still do!

What’s something about adult life you were never warned of or prepared for? How difficult it would be to find work, they acted like we'd all just waltz into jobs the moment we left school.

Did your parents teach you proper table manners when you were growing up? Yes, but they didn't go overboard.

What was the last thing you baked? I don't bake.

Do you live more than 5 hours away from the nearest international border? I live on an island, so there is no 'border' really to speak of. But if you count the edge of the land going to the water as the border, then no, it's much closer than 5 hours.

Does your town have a farmer’s market? Not that I know of.

What’s the westernmost point you’ve been to? Dunno tbh, I'm not even sure where NZ is when it comes to east/west, cos we're in a weird position xD

What was the last restaurant you made a reservation at? Myself personally? My bf Will got me to make a reservation the other week cos he was busy at work and couldn't do it.

When did you last feel lonely? Hmm, not sure.

Can you easily tell when others are masking their true emotions? It depends.

How often do you wash your car? I don't have a car.

When did you last lend money to a friend? I don't lend friends money as a rule, it's a slippery slope. If they need something, I'll buy it for them.

Which app on your phone do you tend to get the most notifications from?  Facebook probably, or Messenger when I'm chatting to someone. Also, Discord too.

Do you own a Dutch oven? If so, what was the last thing you cooked in it? I don't even know what that is.

What is currently on your kitchen table?  A few decorative things cos we didn't have dinner tonight, we had a huge lunch so we just had toast lol.

What is your favorite time period in history to learn about? History is boring to me.

How old were you when you met your current best friend? I was... 14 cos we met at the start of 2002 before my birthday.

Have you ever kissed a smoker? Most likely.

What is the minimum age to obtain a driver’s license in your state/country? Do you think this is an appropriate age? It's 16, it used to be 15 when I was a teenager. And yes it's appropriate.

If you won the lottery, do you think any of your family members would ask you to give them some of your money? I wouldn't tell them. Only trustworthy people I would give some money would know - like my Mum & Dad, my stepmum, Will and a few of my friends.

What is the craziest thing you’ve seen happen at your workplace? I work at a divorce lawyer's, so I see a lot of extremely angry people. I've had people go into screaming fits, both in person and on the phone, one woman had a meltdown and was throwing a tantrum, one guy punched a wall. It's insane, we have a security officer now.

Do you own any home automation gadgets like wifi thermostats or wifi bulbs? No.

What is something you gave up on after many failed attempts? Driving. I'm too scared to take my practical test lol.

How old were you when you started to seriously think about what career path you wanted to pursue? High school. I kept changing my mind before that.

Have you ever disliked a book so much that you didn’t finish it? Oh yeah, loads. Thankfully most of them were library books so it didn't cost me anything.

Would you rather read a book, or listen to the audiobook? Read. I don't have the attention span for audiobooks, I'd get distracted and my mind would wander.

Do you think tomorrow will be a better day than today? Today's been great, but tomorrow will be even better cos I'm seeing my favourite band live and meeting them!!! <3

Spell your name without any R’s, I’s, G’s, or E’s: My name would hilariously be... Man. I had to get rid of the G and E xD

Is there anyone on your mind? Yep.

Describe your bra: Haha it's a bright purple shade and it's a push up one xD

Do you ever want kids? No thank you. I've never wanted them, and my boyfriend has adult kids and doesn't want any more xD

What are you looking forward to this summer? Summer literally just ended for us haha.

How are you doing in school? -

What color do you like most today? Purple.

Rain or sunny? Sunny. Rain sucks, it rained most of today.

Live close to a beach? Loads, but I never really go to the beach.

What does your hair look like, normally? Depends - the day I wash it, it's quite straight. But by the next day, it's gone wavy and then starts to curl up.

What are your thoughts on marijuana? I don't smoke it, and probably never will. But I don't care if other people smoke it whatsoever, you do you. I also voted for it to become legal when they did the referendum for it in NZ.

When was the last time you spent the night with someone? Last night I stayed at my boyfriend's house.

What song are you listening to, if any? The roaming legendary Pokémon battle theme from the B&W soundtrack.

Pretend that you are five years older, what would you be doing right now? The thought of that scares me, lol.

What subjects are you good in? I was always good at Computers/IT, Legal Studies and English.

Ever kissed someone whose name started with an X? Not that I can think of.

Any complaints? I hope the rain stops before tomorrow cos waiting outside the venue to go in for the concert won't be fun in the rain cos there's no shelter lol.

What’s your favorite alcoholic beverage? Jim Beam, Malibu or Long Island iced teas.

Do you miss anyone? Sure.

What's the highlight of your morning routine that sets a positive tone for your day? Doing my hair.

Are there any new podcasts or audiobooks that have been accompanying your commutes? I don't have the patience for podcasts.

How do you wind down and relax after a long day? Any particular activities or rituals? I play video games, listen to music and watch YouTube videos.

Have you discovered any hidden gems in your local neighborhood recently? Maybe a new cafe or park? Not really.

What's your go-to way of staying organized and managing your tasks right now? Write them on my calendar or in my phone.

Is there a specific dish you've been cooking or enjoying frequently in your current meal rotation? My meals have been all over the place lately tbh haha. I didn't have dinner today or on Saturday, and I won't have dinner tomorrow either.

Have you made any changes to your exercise routine lately? New workouts or activities? I go to the gym 3 times a week, but this week I'm only going twice cos I was super busy today and I also don't have time tomorrow.

What's a recent small achievement or milestone that you're proud of? Going longer on the treadmill when I do go to the gym, lol.

Are there any movies or TV shows you're re-watching and finding new details in? I've been rewatching Big Bang Theory a lot lately, it's hilarious, I don't care what people say.

How do you stay inspired and creative during your work or free time these days? Dunno tbh.

Have you come across any interesting articles, websites, or online communities recently? I've been reading a lot of TVTropes.

What's the latest hobby or interest you've picked up, and what drew you to it? All my hobbies are the same as usual.

What's the most memorable interaction you've had with someone today? I had lunch with my Mum for her birthday and while we were eating, the waitress came to ask how our food was - my Mum couldn't answer cos she was eating her steak, I said it was good. After she'd moved on, my Mum said "I couldn't reply cos I had my mouth full of meat" xDDDDDDDDDD I just stared at her and then we both just broke down laughing xD It was so funny.

How do you inject moments of positivity into your daily routine, no matter how busy it gets? Oh, loads of things.

Are there any personal projects you're working on right now that bring you joy? Eh...

What's a current goal that's shaping the choices you make on a daily basis? Just losing weight.

Have you visited any local events or markets that have given your weekends a unique flavor? Does wrestling events count xD

How do you stay connected with friends and family despite your busy schedule? I talk to most of my friends and my boyfriend via Facebook messenger or text, and my online friends via Discord. I'm allowed to use Discord at work when it's quiet xD

What's the most interesting thing you've learned recently, whether intentionally or by chance? Dunno.

How do you maintain a balance between screen time and other activities in your day? Hahaha, funny. My weekly average of screen time on my phone is 4 and a half hours a day lol.

Have you experimented with any new methods of relaxation or mindfulness lately? No.

What's your strategy for making the most of your weekends and recharging for the week ahead? Um.

Have you been dedicating time to any DIY projects or crafts that reflect your creativity? No.

How do you incorporate learning and personal growth into your everyday life? I read Reddit a lot, and I love looking at random Wikipedia articles xD

What's a unique tradition or habit that you've cultivated recently, making each day special? Uh....

[iieonarch]

The light that fills his eyes.

No TWs or CWs, nice things here, outsider's POV, zhoudu

Most people only knew that few seem to have a close relationship with president Fei. However, the world ‘relationship’ does sound too intimate, perhaps the word ‘acquaintances’ would be most appropriate. 

One of these acquaintances is young master Zhang whose attitude was an evident contrast to President Fei’s. Young Master Zhang is still a young teenager who is free-spirited, many would find him in parties simply enjoying himself. If you’re lucky, you may find President Fei sitting elegantly at the party, minding his own business.  

The second one is me, his assistant. 

It was a long time ago when I was appointed as one, President Fei was the youngest I’ve met among other masters who were of the same rank. He was undoubtedly beautiful, with a sharp almost icy gaze yet a polite gentle smile to accompany his overall distant, untouchable demeanor. 

Many congratulated me for receiving such a position whilst gushing over President Fei’s good looks, saying how lucky I was to see a gorgeous man every day. They were still young, these kinds of thoughts aren’t professional and I wasn’t interested in getting closer to President Fei outside of working reasons, for that man has already established a line between himself and the world beyond it. 

Although he tends to throw a couple of lines that made the ladies blush, he would close his eyes when he smiled as if hiding his real emotions. This sort of ‘smiling with his eyes closed’ type of smile is very common. Even so, it wasn’t what he did all the time, I could imagine how tiring it must be to keep that up. 

When reading important documents, his eyes seem to gaze a hole into the poor thin pieces of papers, sometimes his brows would knit tightly. Sometimes, he would look outside of his window as he drank his milk, his eyes would become softer, full of wonder but, unfocused. 

Whenever I entered and gave my greeting, he would give me that smile, the one where he would close his eyes and I wouldn’t be able to see the eyes that had looked far through the clouds and possibly beyond. As if a single blink had wiped out any traces of distinguishable emotions. 

Was it fear of being vulnerable? Was it the secrets, the things he had seen before? Was it a search for an answer? A someone? 

President Fei’s office had many old objects, mainly once that used to belong to his father that was left behind. I’m not one to seek rumors of his family but, it did strike curiosity in me with the way he’d look at some of them.

One day, I brought a worker from the other department to have him submit a monthly report from his side, I stood on the side as he explained to President Fei of their inputs and outputs throughout the month and coincidentally my eyes shifted to President Fei at the time. His posture was casual and his fingers tapped onto the wooden table soundlessly and slowly, his eyes gazing into the shelves at the farther end of the office. I didn’t think that he was distracted yet, I couldn’t put my finger on the exact feeling he exuded. After the worker finished his small presentation, he pulled another one of those polite smiles and gave the staff his opinions. 

President Fei seemed to have put on another mask and that unsettling aura that I felt before vanished and I found myself standing straighter and even politely smiling at the discussion. 

Recently as well, President Fei has gotten himself into playing games. I assume it could be a form of distraction but, he would stop and close it after a while of tapping, it didn’t seem to do him much good. 

The more it went on, I had a feeling that he grew restless. 

President Fei had also started to listen to audiobooks out loud, I didn’t mind it and I wasn’t in the place to say anything towards President Fei’s interests. A few days later, he rarely listens to them and had completely stopped. 

This inconsistency in hobbies didn’t meddle with his performance at work but, one can’t help feeling a bit concerned. President Fei in front of others is a calm and collected person, young for his age but also experienced for his age. However, behind the curtains of work activities, it felt as if he was only a young man desperately trying to find a hobby to hold on to. Some sort of distraction, entertainment to fill the void inside; something to bring back the light into his eyes?

I didn’t know since when these unsettling thoughts about my boss had stopped coming and bothering me but when I had forgotten for a while, a small incident brought it back from the back of my mind. 

I had come to realize that it was not something but, someone. 

One normal afternoon like any other day at work, I stood frozen when I heard he went to the police bureau for the first time and when I asked, he gave me a reassuring smile.

“There’s someone I’m very fond of,” President Fei had said, a hint of playfulness surrounding his voice. 

I politely smiled. President Fei is still very young, things like these are normal. I was happy for him. I wondered if because of this someone, the lost look in his eyes will now be filled with more light. 

It was only months later when I could visit the police bureau to drop off President Fei. Overwhelmed with curiosity I waited a bit, and right as I glanced to look, a tall man was waiting for President Fei. He was good-looking but looked irritated at President Fei’s arrival and oddly, President Fei himself didn’t seem to feel the same, he had smiled with his eyes locked onto the other’s.

I was stunned.

President Fei didn’t close his eyes when he smiled at him, he even tilted his head to the side as he did. Could this be…

Unknowingly, I smiled as if this rare expression that I saw from afar was so contagious it could reach me across the street. 

Whoever President Fei likes or dislikes has nothing to do with me, but I have to admit that after seeing him restless for a while and seeing him acting more casually made me happy. 

I drove away from the police bureau feeling nothing but happiness and relief for President Fei. 

Since then, I never wondered too much about how President Fei’s eyes looked and in addition, that I rarely see him every day now that he had gotten himself tangled with the police bureau. 

That was until the shocking news of President Fei ending up in the hospital brought me rushing over after his operation was a success. 

I walked through the hospital hallways with some fruits I purchased on the way. I remembered it was quite peaceful and finding his room was not as difficult as I thought. When I arrived, I knocked lightly on the door to alert anyone inside, there was a deep voice greeting me, one that wasn’t President Fei’s.

As I slowly entered I came face to face with the familiar face I saw at the police bureau, this was the man who President Fei had given one of his rarest smiles. He was tall and handsome, with soft-colored brown eyes clouded with a shadow. He nodded at my arrival, standing up from his seat. On the bed, President Fei laid unconscious. 

“Hello, I’m President Fei’s assistant,” I introduced myself after I placed the fruits on the table in the room. 

“Thanks for coming,” he said, “I’m Luo Wenzhou.” 

Luo Wenzhou had looked like he wanted to continue but, his eyes immediately broke contact with mine and settled on President Fei’s closed ones instead. I rubbed my knuckles and gave him a reassuring smile. Whatever had happened must’ve taken a great toll on Luo Wenzhou’s state of mental, perhaps it was better not to question him.

As long as our president is no longer in danger. 

“I’ll be taking my leave,” I said quickly not wanting to make him uncomfortable by the sudden visit, “please take good care of yourself and our President.” 

Luo Wenzhou nodded and opened the door for me and smiled, “be careful on your way.” 

And that was the last time I saw him.

Though I was not directly involved, the matter with the police bureau wasn’t easy for President Fei and Mr. Luo, he got into the hospital a second time. 

It was a stressful period, but I was more relieved knowing that Mr. Luo was involved. He seemed to be very close to President Fei and with the way he had sat beside his bed waiting for his consciousness to return, that was enough for him to be trustworthy. I could only hope for both their safety and recovery

Then came that day. 

President Fei came in early after his lunch for a meeting and as he greeted me, I caught a glimpse of the ring he was wearing, and at first, I thought little of it. 

“Someone’s coming to look for me later after work,” President Fei informed, “when he comes, tell him to wait in my office.” 

He smiled at me, “I’ll leave this task to you.”

“Of course sir,” I answered, mirroring his smile.

Later that afternoon, my phone rang a few minutes before President Fei’s meeting ended. I picked it up without a glance at the screen as I cleaned up my desk. 

“Yes sir, I’m on my way,” I quickly said only to hear a girl’s voice at the end of the line. 

“ Aiya , Miss it’s me. Someone is here at the front desk, he says he’s looking for the President,” the familiar voice of the girl at the front desk told me in a hushed tone, “what should I do? I’ve never seen him before.” 

My hand hovered on the stack of papers I was supposed to put into a folder, “did he told you his name by any chance?” 

The girl’s voice was inaudible on the other end, I had assumed that she went to ask for his name. 

“I got his name! And his info, this guy is very polite!” 

I chuckled at her excitement, despite already having my guesses I wanted to make sure if it was true. 

“Well?”

“He’s Luo Wenzhou from the police bureau. Will that help? The President didn’t offend the government for the police to come right?” as she spoke, her tone grew urgent. 

Internally, the sound of victory bells echoed in my head, “rest assured. I’m on my way there, leave the rest to me.” 

Mr. Luo had his eyes scanning the company’s lobby when I arrived. There were a lot more people downstairs as it was nearing the time of closing and a change of shifts. The fast-paced workers scurrying to get home must’ve caught his attention for the most part. 

I approached him and called out softly.

“Mr. Luo,” I said, gently nodding my head. 

He acted quick and repeated my actions, “ah, we’ve met. A long time ago” 

“Yes it’s been a while, the President is expecting you,” I smiled and extended my arm, “this way to his office please.” 

+++

“The President is on his way here, he just finished his meeting,” I informed Mr. Luo as I opened the door, “would you like to drink tea or coffee?” 

“None actually,” he replied quickly after sweeping his eyes across President Fei’s huge office, “thank you.” 

I nodded and was about to continue when I noticed the silver glint on his ring finger when he brought his hand up to fix his hair. 

They both wore the same rings. 

“Then I will take my leave,” I bowed my head at him, “have a great evening Mr. Luo.”

His eyes that observed the framed pictures on President Fei’s desk turned towards me, “thank you, you as well.” 

These days though it may have not been noticeable for most of us at work, but I could see the faint change in President Fei’s eyes compared to when he was in the past.  

They had once looked out to the outside world, into the distance, searching for something in the unknown. A long time ago, I didn’t think much of it but the more I noticed it the more I grew aware of this. I never asked because I was not in the position too. Perhaps it was me only worrying for the President. 

But today, I figured that it wasn’t my job to worry too much any longer. There was someone else that existed in his eyes, occupying his entire point of view.

The President who had represented our company, who had stood next to me with confidence and intelligence, had gone through many. He now has someone he could share a peal of genuine laughter with. 

President Fei’s acquaintances perhaps have increased over the months since he became more in touch with the police bureau. Still, now another position stood high in his heart: his lover. 

--end--

[curious-glitch]

Advice Porn, Doomscrolling, and Achieving Greatness

I just read the Paul Graham mega-essay on 'How to Do Great Work'

It was brilliant as always. My key takeaway - follow your curiosity and act earnestly, and everything else will fall into place. It also largely validates my long-held ideas to lean into what makes me weird while being intellectually honest with myself.

My bigger meta takeaway is that I get too hung up on the comfort of advice porn. It feels good to read something that validates my beliefs on how the world works and how to achieve success. Today it's Paul Graham, yesterday it was Kevin Kelly. The other day it was Tim Ferriss. They all say the right things, and they all gel with my world view, and I feel great after hearing them. But how does that translate to what I do?

This brings me to the other gem from the essay that struck me:

"Just as we overestimate what we can do in a day and underestimate what we can do over several years, we overestimate the damage done by procrastinating for a day and underestimate the damage done by procrastinating for several years."

I'm definitely guilty of this. I keep putting off stuff that I wanted to do from years ago. I read my notes from 8, 9, 10 years ago, and my aspirations are still largely the same - establish a writing outlet, do master's, work in a tech company, start a business... I'm lucky to have a good idea of what I want to do, so why not do it? This is especially striking when I see people like the environmental science guy, or the Data Machines lady, or even my artist friend Miggy, who 8 years ago was struggling in the same office as me, and now dominating the art scene as Distort Monsters. These are mostly my peers and they have gone so far and achieved so much. I won't deny that there's a hint of envy for what they have achieved, but it's also inspiring, and it makes me want to get started with my own projects, especially the creative ones.

But this is where discipline has to come in.

The doomscrolling death spiral still torments me as the ultimate productivity leech. I spend hours and hours swiping down the Instagram, Facebook, and Twitter newsfeeds. It makes me feel bad about not accomplishing things, which makes me want to scroll through the feeds again as a temporary salve. I can feel my attention span and focus getting dangerously short. Whenever I steel myself for a focused activity, I keep getting tempted. I've tried to purge these apps from my phone (and that helps quite a lot!) but I keep going back to them. Plus there are other sources of distraction that sap my attention, like Youtube and NFTs. It almost makes playing games and watching shows (who others may consider pure time sucks) as productive because I at least complete something while focusing on an activity. So I have to keep reminding myself - boulders > rocks > pebbles > sand

Having said all these, I believe that I'm getting better with acting on my dreams. I follow an okay cadence of writing once a day, walking over 12K steps everyday, hearing mass once a week, completing one book a month, and publishing one post per month as well. I'm doing alright with my teaching job and relationships. I am eating less, sleeping a bit better, and working out more. My biggest hack to get to these goals is a simple one: listening to audiobooks and podcasts while walking and working out, while taking in the view and the air and the sunlight, while taking occasional notes along the way. It's a four-birds-one-stone activity that relaxes me and enlivens me while also making me feel like I'm cheating time.

Where I have to improve is the follow-through. Another hack that works well for me here is to use good 'ol pen and paper as a way to organize my thoughts and connect the dots. Then I have to do a much better job to convert these raw notes into longer-form writings that I could use, share, and publish. I have to put more of myself out into the world. I need to keep reorienting my focus outward rather than inward. Yes, I should still create for myself, but with the motivation of benefiting others (like having an idea click so I could share them more convincingly) rather than out of vanity. I should keep imbibing the value of consistency, to direct my tendency for inertia in a positive direction - as a way to build momentum rather than a reason to be static.

[beltteller9]

Personal Car Versus Auto Service

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[kirishoshego]

Confidental Composition//Bakugo

!!!MINORS DNI!!! 18+ONLY !!!

This is the first part of my little 'Teachers Pet Series' (I will add the link once I got all parts covered and the right ideas).

Summary: A simple task fucked up late at night as you send the wrong version of a piece of homework to your English literature teacher Mister Bakugo. Of course, he would want to see you after class the next day. But not for the reasons you might think. Pairing: Docent!Bakugo x afab!student!y/n // Words: 4.2k+ Side note: Insert a friend or random name you want for X :)

TW: nsfw: slow burn (sorry), spanking with a ruler, hair pulling, being bend over a desk, calling him sir, spitting, choking, dirty talk, degrading, slight praise

„Write an essay about the worst description of a woman or coitus. In the essay, explain why it is bad and then rewrite it. At least 30 pages, max. 60 pages (sources and any other extras you please to include, excluded). Due Date: 8 weeks from now on, 35% worth of your end grade. Questions can be asked per E-Mail, or, if you must, I’m free every Wednesday afternoon for meetings strictly for this essay and this essay only.“

A sigh left your lips as you starred at the piece of paper for the tenth time today ever since he handed it out to you and your classmates. The options you had were endless, you knew so many bad pieces about both topics and could write more than 100 pages about them as well. Everyone in class you talked to had decided on their topic already, some were even further. It was X who told you to just write the topics on a piece of paper and let fate do its work.

Black ink on a badly ripped blue note decided that you were going to write about a sex scene. Just now that you thought about it, rewriting something like that for your professor to read was an awfully stupid idea, yet you decided to listen to a small piece of paper.

At first, you were going to go with Fifty Shades of Grey but you felt like the choice was chewed up and spat out. It took you three days to finally decide on a book and once you settled there was no turning back. Considering your ignited interest in this topic you weren’t surprised when you were done within the first four weeks. Knowing the editing is going to take another week, maybe even a week and a half, you decided to take a small break, just one or two days off. On your second day, you decided to visit the new coffee shop that had just opened up around the corner.

Never had you expected to see your professor near your living spot. You were about to greet him when you noticed his pissed-off expression on his face and only now did you spot the woman behind him. She grabbed his arm and made him turn on the relatively small and empty street.

„Suki you can’t be serious,“ she was angry and hurt, while he seemed to be angry and annoyed. Not much of a difference than to how you see him on the daily, to be honest. „Are you fucking stupid? Of course, I’m fucking god damn serious. It was your choice to cheat on me and now I choose to throw you on the streets where you apparently belong, go ask one of your little boy toys to take you in for all I care,“ you were frozen in place, not entirely sure what to do. Right now your eyes were glued on his chest that was clad in a tight, black pullover, rising up and down heavily as his nostrils were flared caused by his anger. „Because you gave me no choice! If you like that sort of weird, rough shit then paddle your own canoe! I need something soft and tender-,“ before she could finish her sentence he laughed. Cold and slightly maniac in a way.

„Then get some fucking chicken! If you don’t like how I’m in bed then break up with me and piss off but don’t send my best friend a nude to ask him to come over. Even a ten-year-old would see how stupid that is,“at that moment your eyes met. His eyebrows were furled together, red eyes expression furry and disgust. Blond hair usually styled like he was going to be on the cover of Vogue, like he had been before, now slightly messy. Plump lips slightly apart to let his teeth shine through slightly before wetting them with his tongue. Your eyes widened and before you knew what you were doing you waved at him, making him cock his eyebrows in confusion for a second before noticing it was you who he was looking at. Turning on your heels you walked past busy crowds of people as you walked back home, trying to understand what you had just seen and why your angry professor had turned you on more than anyone had done before.

It was a stupid idea to ditch the next teaching unit of his but you had absolutely no clue how you were going to look at him. You knew teachers had a private life themselves, but never would you have guessed that you would run into one of them in your small area. As far as you knew he lived across town according to the very, very few private stories he had shared in magazines.

„Dear Professor,

down below is my finished project as an attachment in form of a PDF. I know you request it to be printed as well and I had planned to hand it in today, but sadly I came down with the flu. I’m looking forward to attending your next unit in the following week.

Have a nice week,

Y/N Y/L/N“

Maybe he had forgotten that you were there already and you were worrying too much about it. You were his student, nothing more, nothing less. Bakugo could care less about you, right? The flu did go around a lot right now, so it wouldn’t be completely unthinkable that you were sick. Itching eyes signaled you that it was time to go to bed now, so you closed your laptop and went to bed, not knowing what the next day will hold for you.

X had waited for you at the main entrance the next day to give you all the information you might need and ask why you weren’t there, considering it was obvious that you had the flu for one day only. At first, you were hesitant to explain what you had witnessed, it was messy already and you doubt Mister Bakugo would want the fight to go viral at his workplace. „Just one of those days you know? I had my mind completely full and felt like crap,“ that was the best excuse you could come up with, a white little lie that wouldn’t harm anyone. „Glad to see you’re doing- Oh, hello Professor,“ X smiled at someone behind you. There was no need to turn around to know who it was, the scent of his very expensive and extremely beguiling perfume clouding your mind. „Hello,“ his gruff voice greeted your friend shortly as you turned around, met with his muscular chest. You didn’t expect him to be so close to you, but here you were, tilting your head slightly as you looked up to him through your lashes, feeling not just your cheeks growing hot. „Good morning Sir,“ your voice sounded a lot more confident than you were feeling. Bakugo clenched his fist around the fake leather of his bag, his red eyes starring right into your soul as you had no chance of escaping whatever was going to happen next. „Miss Y/L/N, just the person I was looking for,“ fuck. „You were?“ X and you said at the same time, but your friend decided to excuse themself after a single glare from the older man. „How may I help you, Professor?“ You asked after swallowing down the anxious feeling that threatened to rise. „I received your Mail yesterday, with the PDF,“ okay, why did he search you just to tell you he got your assignment? Was it that bad? „But I’m relatively sure that it was the wrong one, considering I doubt that you want your teacher to know that 'this shit is so bad, but I wouldn’t mind being bent over a writing desk like that' with a smirking emoji at the end,“ only when his finger pushed your chin upwards gently you noticed that it was agape, shame filling every molecule in your body as you already planned your escape out of this country. Nobody was near you to see the weirdly intimidating scene happening between you and your teacher.

„Also I know you didn’t have the flu. I don’t appreciate being lied to. Tomorrow five p.m. in my office, don’t be late or you will get in more trouble. Send me the actual version tonight so I can grade it. I won’t let something as unprofessional as this slide again, understood?“ You nodded, taking in all of the information given to you, and somewhat in all of this mess felt thankful that he was giving you a second chance. The man in front of you rolled his eyes and clicked his tongue, ordering you to speak up. „Yes Sir, thank you,“ you sounded more confident than you felt inside. „Good,“ was all Bakugo said before he turned around, leaving you behind in the big hall dumbfounded and confused… And horny.

As if Chronos himself felt immense joy in your misery, minutes appeared to be hours and the panic inside of you only grew the closer you came to five in the afternoon. You tried everything, watching a show, listening to podcasts and audiobooks, reading a book you had put of for so long, went outside, cooked something, worked on another assignment, stopped yourself from destroying your hair, made the phone call you so desperately had put off and it’s still only ten p.m on the same day. How was that even possible? As you laid in bed you tossed and turned, the thought of your really hot teacher all angry, breathing heavily, his hands roaming your body. It was hard to pinpoint exactly when those thoughts turned into a very lucid dream, but when you woke up in the morning, already an hour too late to your first period, all you wanted to do was scream into your pillow.

Considering first class is canceled, you wanna go grab breakfast? X texted you.

Canceled? Checking your mails you saw your teacher had sent out a mail, excusing themselves and explaining they came down with the flu. A blessing in disguise. You let X know that you would meet up at the building and go grab something near it. Once agreed, you took a quick shower, a moment of peace given to you as water hit your body. There was no way you could do anything between your last class and the meeting with Professor Bakugo, so you tried to look your best possible for the next upcoming hours.

Suddenly time flew by and the closer you got the more you begged for a little bit more time, for him to postpone it, anything. But no, here you were, five minutes early and looking around to spot the blond man with no luck. „Miss Y/L/N. Step inside,“ you jumped slightly as his voice boomed up behind you, not expecting him to be in the office already.

Once you walked inside you were stunned about how clean everything was, no matter where you looked it was neat. His books were sorted alphabetically with marks between them to let him know when a new letter began. As far as you could tell he used cherry wood for his pieces of furniture, a big, black carpet in a corner underneath a small seating area, and some books placed on the table. Even his paperwork was stacked in order. Big glass windows allowed the evening sun to fall into the room, its warmness kissing your skin while you were seated in front of him, a big writing desk between the two of you, on it your work.

It was quiet for a short moment, before he leaned back in his chair, red eyes mustering you up and down which didn’t help at all. „What would you like to talk about first? Your assignment or the fact that you lied to me?“ Why was he so bothered by your lie? You knew plenty of students calling in sick every once in a while even though they aren’t. „I apologize for both of it. It shouldn’t have happened and I learned from my mistake,“ you were hoping that it would ease his anger a little bit but he seemed more worked up than usual. „Although I don’t understand why you are so angry at me for it? Plenty students lie-,“ „Yes, but they aren’t stupid enough to make it so obvious,“ he interrupted you. „I could care less about who’s missing my class, it’s their fault in the end if they decide learning is unnecessary. However you are one of my top students, I expected better from you. You could have excused yourself with no explanation. But you chose to add the feeble lie about being sick for what?“

You took in a deep breath, feeling as if another lie would be caught immediate, so you had no other choice but to tell him the real reason: „I heard the fight you had with the woman you were with, in the café, and I didn’t know how to react when I see you in your class,“ there was a small moment where he looked honestly confused before something clicked in his brain. „So it was you who I saw. What did you hear?“ „I can’t really rem-,“ „One more lie and I will lose my temper, don’t test me,“ shit, why was he turning you on so much right now. He’s your teacher for god’s sake and angry at you, this wasn’t the right time. „That she doesn’t agree with certain things in your private life,“ „Like?“ he knew you tried to talk around it, yet he wanted you to talk about, to see you embarrassed again, he liked that look on you. „The way you fuck,“ it was said before your brain could even comprehend the words, another apology laying at the tip of your tongue but his next question cut you off before you could say something else. „Why were you there in the first place? I’ve been there a few times and never saw you or any other student,“ he explained. „Because I live close by?“ It sounded more defiantly than you had wanted, causing your opponent to cock his eyebrow.

„I feel like you’re forgetting who’s the authority figure here,“ he walked up to his door, locking it before coming back. Now he was right in front of you, slightly sitting on his desk and the sleeves of his button-up shirt pushed up a little. „No sir, I’m sorry,“ „You see, the problem is, I don’t really believe you,“ with that he pulled you up, bodies pressed against each other, letting you feel his toned torso while the muscles in his arms flexed slightly.

„You lied to me once already, I think I have to teach you a lesson,“ everything happened so fast and you suddenly found yourself face down on his desk with his hand between your shoulder blades, the other one grabbing his wooden ruler. „If I recall correctly this is what you wanted right?“ His voice was low, slightly above a whisper as his upper body was pressed against your back while he pulled a few hair strands from your face. „Yes, but Professor I don’t think this is a good idea,“ your inner voice yelled at you, saying this was the best idea ever, angry that you possibly ruined your dreams coming true.

„Tell me to stop and I will do so immediately. Your choice. There will be no consequences if you worry about that,“ he reassured you, waiting for you to get up and run, but you didn’t and the current position allowed him to feel you clench your legs. „So?“ He asked again, the ruler in his hand basically burning with the anticipation of hitting your skin. „No, don't stop,“ you breathed, awaiting his next move.

„Good,“ with that he exposed your raised ass, your underwear the only thing between your bare skin and the wood that came down upon it, one foot raising in the air because of the sudden pain. „From now on if you say stop I won’t listen, you will tell me how you feel through colors. If it’s too much you tell me red and I will drop everything, understood?“ Another spank was delivered to the same spot.

„Yes,“ another one. You weren’t sure if he hit harder or if your skin turned more sensitive with every blow.

„It’s sir to you,“ you could feel him lunge out but shortly before the ruler came down he stoped, laughing slightly at your small jump.

„Yes sir,“ another one.

„You’re going to apologize every time my ruler paints your cute ass even redder, got it?“ You nodded your head, a moan escaping the back of your throat as he spanked you yet again.

„One more thing, be a good girl and stay quiet, wouldn’t wanna get caught now do we?“ He knew it was going to be torture for you to follow his order the more he continued and in a way he wanted you to fail. There was so much build-up inside of him and it appears that you were willing enough for him to use you as he pleased. That’s why you were his favorite. Bakugo knew what he was doing was wrong and he never expected to feel this way for one of his students but forbidden fruit tastes the best.

You stopped counting after the seventh blow, sorries, sirs and small whimpers fall from your lips as if they were your whole vocabulary. At one point you started crying, tears mixed with mascara running down your cheeks. He tried to remember something that turned him on more than the sight of your messed-up body with no luck. Everything build up inside of him, everything itching in his hands, the inner desires he had to soften for his ex, it all was going to come down on you. His thick girth twitched at the simple thought of finally being surrounded by your dripping wet cunt.

A warm soft hand rubbed over your bruised flesh while the other one found its way into your hair to pull you up to him, your back arched.

„What are you sorry for?“ Your mind was clouded with pleasure and pain, the only thought right now was the feeling of his dick print right between your sore cheeks. „I asked my little bitch a question, I expect you to fucking answer,“ this time he spanked you with his hand but it was just as intense as his ruler. „I don’t know,“ you breathed, a soft moan slipping out of you when his thumb barely circled your throbbing clit. „You’re just apologizing because you want me to use you?“ You could hear him chuckle lowly before he pushed your underwear to the side, his middle finger now playing with you. „Yes sir,“ Katsuki couldn’t hear a single ounce of shame in your voice and he wondered how long you had been thinking about him like this before.

„I never expected you to be such a dumb, cock hungry whore,“ The sound of his belt hitting the floor was dull like it was far away from you but at the same time, you felt him closer than before. Strong hands around your waist turned you around and once again he lifted your head with his finger underneath your chin, studying your ruined make-up as if he was memorizing every little detail he never wanted to forget. The blond, muscular man lifted you with ease, your behind getting a small moment of cooling as it hit his wooden desk.

Bakugo dried your tears slightly with his thumb, smearing it even more. „Only for you,“ you whispered and in that moment he couldn’t stop himself, he just had to kiss you. Not sweet and gentle, but passionately and hungry, like he was poisoned and your kiss was the antidote. The hand behind your head traveling to the front as you were laid down completely.

„If I had known before I would have fucked you so much sooner,“ with one hard thrust he was buried deep inside of you, one hand over your mouth because he knew you wouldn’t be able to keep quiet and the other one around your throat, squeezing shut and watching you struggle against it slightly. Your professor was thicker than what you were used to and you didn’t know how good it would feel until now. With the first few snaps of his hips, you knew you never wanted to feel something else anymore.

Your hands went to his arms and you tugged on them, causing him to let go as the blood found its way back to your brain. „Color?“ he asked, afraid you weren’t able to handle him. „Green,“ was all you could get out before another moan cut off your ability to talk.

„Good girl,“ he whispered into your ear, kissing down from your earlobe to your shoulder before sucking on a rather sensitive spot. Both of your wrists were held over your head with his left hand, with the explanation that he doesn’t appreciate being stopped while using you however he pleased. The right hand was going from between your chest after he admired your bouncing tits thoroughly, to your stomach to connect with your most sensitive bundle of nerves. Bakugo switched from circles to eights, from fast to slow, but the harshness of his hips never haltered.

„I know you wanna scream right now, but I can’t allow that. Can’t let others hear what a dirty slut you are for me right now. I promise I will fuck you in my house if you behave now. You can moan my name as much as you want. Or maybe I will gag you, watch you drool all over yourself. Maybe I will tie you up and edge you for an hour straight until you’re begging me to fuck you, you like the sound of that, huh? I can feel you squeezing around me,“ another chuckle left his plump lips as he watched you struggle to stay up on your feet.

„Maybe I will let you choke on my dick while I work on something for the next lesson. Gonna use you as my little cum dump. Let you think about it again when I talk about it in front of the whole class. Do-,“ you were so close when a sudden knock on the door startled you both, but he never once stopped what he was doing, if anything he went even harder, whispering into your ear to be quiet for him.

„Hey Kat, your ex is outside and says she wants to talk, want me to send her in?“ It was the psychologist professor Shinso, his voice as done and deep as usual. „No, I’m occupied,“ Bakugo saw your mouth open after you fought so hard against it, he couldn’t let you moan, not right now. He did the first thing he could think of, spitting into it and watching you swallow. Oh, he would definitely film you do this with his cum covering you everywhere and the thought brought him slightly closer to his release. „Still grading papers huh? I don’t get where you got all of that energy from,“ his voice was blurred out by Bakugo whispering into your ear. „Do you want me to tell you what we're doing right now? Let him know I’m fucking my little toy stupid right now?“ And while you were shaking your head no it was the last straw for you and you found yourself grabbing his hand to put over your mouth, biting your lips until you tasted blood to muffle the scream you couldn’t stop. Bakugo cursed under his breath when he could feel you throbbing around his dick and your nails digging into his arm. „Tell her to leave me the fuck alone, she’s already forgotten,“ his voice sounded strained and you knew he was close as well. „Ah, I see. Well then have fun,“ his laugh was fading away the further he went.

„Can’t believe that made you cum, you’re even more perfect than I thought, such a dirty girl, tsk,“ both his hands are on your hips and he pulled your body against him with every thrust. You were still coming down from your orgasm when you felt his thrusts turning sloppy before he stopped completely, his dick now pulsing while he was holding you tightly. Breath uneven and getting stable on his feet again he turned you around, careful so he wouldn’t hurt you.

„Next time I gonna make sure you can’t walk but right now I need you to be able to leave the building,“ he pulled his pants back up and added: „Sadly,“ before walking around his desk.

It was still hard for you to stand so you sat down, wincing as the usually soft cushion now felt like thousand of tiny spikes on your bruised ass. Before you pull your bottoms up again he grabbed your wrist and pulled you up, once again with a stern expression on his face you were so familiar with.

„I apparently really fucked you stupid if you think I let you leave like this,“ having him put cooling cream on your bare bum felt more intimate than having him be balls deep inside you. „Sorry I just thought-,“ „Well, you thought wrong. I don’t know what kind of boys you had in the past but now that you have me there are going to be changes, got that?“

[bangtanfancamp]

∴ summary: After spending a gloomy afternoon  trying to get out of your own head alone , you finally seek out your boyfriend for help

∴ masterlist

∴ one shot

∴ pairing: Kim Namjoon x reader

∴ word count: 2k

∴ rating: pg-13

∴ genre: soft angst, comfort, established relationship

∴ warnings: oc is struggling with something akin to depression, it’s alluded to but not explicitly stated

∴ author’s note: this is incredibly self indulgent and was written in one go. I’ll edit later. I’d rather have it here to share sooner in case anyone needs it as much as me.

─────────────────────

“Joonie, what are you doing? Are you busy?” Your voice comes out small as you peak around the corner into his office, sweater pawed knuckles sneaking around the edge of the door frame.

He doesn’t look up at first. Perhaps you really were too quiet. Or maybe he’s just that immersed in his book. It’s not a cover you’ve seen before so it very well may be the latter. You know how he is when he has a new thing to get lost in. Ever your astronaut adrift, exploring the moons just beyond whatever new world he’s found.

He looks so at home now. Cozy in his den of words and letters. Perfectly domestic amidst lofty thoughts and paragraphs. His skin is mostly bare today, his coordinated tank top and shorts exposing a golden expanse of toned arms, long legs . They’re folded up and crossed, a little boy lost in wonder as he sits on his futon.

His hair is a warm chestnut this week, fringe too long around the lashes but too short to pull back. The way it refuses to cooperate when he brushes it out of his eyes, trickling silkily, stubbornly back into place, exactly where it wants to be, makes you want to chuckle.

He still hasn’t noticed you’re there. Too far gone in whatever his newest philosophy is to notice the way you study the dip of his furrowed brow, how it juxtaposes against the relief of his shadowed dimples, smiling even as he frowns. He finds so much pleasure in being studious— just for fun. No matter how much concentration it takes. You’ve always admired that about him. Admired everything about him really.

Clearing your throat, though you hate to interrupt him, you try again. 

“Joonie?”

 Somehow it’s even quieter than before, and as he turns another reverent page, you know you’ll have to physically intervene to interrupt him. You sigh. You hate to break the spell. He loves days like this—with the rain trickling down the window’s glass casting shadows on his focused face— he’s so happy to read when it rains.

He leans forward then without looking up to take a sip of his Earl grey, bumbling when the steam unexpectedly fogs his glasses. He laughs at himself, folding his book so it splays across the seat to mark his place and removing his glasses. It’s the first time he’s looked up. He spots you then, his face splitting into the smoothest “there’s my girl” smile you’ve ever seen.

“Hey… how long have you been standing there?” His voices comes low, warm, soothes something in you that desperately needs rest.

“Long enough to see you blind yourself with tea, it seems.” You try to smile back, but it’s a weak, floppy thing. Your cheeks can’t seem to commit so it falls a bit too flat. His brows pinch when he sees it. Something’s amiss.

“Hey… are you okay?” His inscrutable eyes analyze you, and you let him. Too tired to resist or put up a fight.

“It’s not my day, joonie.” Your voice is pitiful, even to your own ears. You’d normally wince at sounding like this in front of anyone else. But honestly, it’s okay. It’s Namjoon you’re with. You don’t have to play games or hide things. Not here. Not with him.

“Yeah?” His eyes catch yours as his palms rub the tops of his thighs. It’s an invitation. You know the gesture by now.

“Yeah… again. There have been so many of these lately,” you say, crossing the room to him, his arms unfolding to welcome you into them. “They come too often and stay too long. They’re terrible house guests. I’m tired of them, joon. I can’t seem to get rid of them.”

You’re scooped against him now, head on the space between his neck and his chest, fingers twisted into his tank top, bum in his lap, knees tucked up til you’re as small as you can get. There’s a broad palm of his on your back, fingertips on his other hand traveling the length of your arm in tender caresses as his cheek rests atop your head.

“Maybe we should start charging them rent. I bet even they can’t afford to pay that in this economy.” He offers the idea solemnly, fully committed to carrying out the metaphor that your mental health really is just an unfortunate airbnb plagued with hideously mannered squatters.

“You know, I love that about you, Joon.”

“My inability to pay rent?”

You nuzzle a sappy no into the heat of his neck,” dummy, your very real ability to never minimize things that are hard to me.”

The dip of his chest as he exhales is oddly soothing. It makes you feel like you’re being rocked and god if you don’t need to be cradled right now. “Things  have been really hard lately, haven’t they?” He wonders aloud.

“It isn’t just my perception?” You look up, eyes entirely too pitiful, too round to belong to a functioning adult. No, Namjoon’s heart goes soft as he realizes he’s looking at the eyes of a very scared four year old you. The haunted gaze of an innocent girl who never got told everything would be alright. Even without knowing any more than that, it makes him want to cry.

“No, my sweet girl, it’s not.” Closing his eyes, he presses somber lips to your forehead, scooping you close to shield you— from the world, from yourself, from all the insidious things that took root in you so long ago you’re not even sure how they got in. His wide hands grip you tighter, a feeble attempt to help hold you altogether.

It’s silent then. A few beats of quiet, only disrupted by the clumsy clatter of irreverent raindrops on glass. His caress stays steady against your soft sleeves, his languid fingers perpetually in motion as he attempts to soothe the wounds that sit just beneath your skin.

You look up at him again, unsure what you’ll find. 

You almost cry when you see the gentleness in his eyes. No judgment anywhere within them. Just something kind that stretches into the lines his eyes carve as he smiles. How you itch to gently peel his horn rimmed glasses off the tip of his button nose and kiss it. Bless him.

God, you don’t know why he’s so nice to you, but you’re so glad that he is. The smile you give back to him is wobbly, trembly, poorly constructed— but so so sincere that it makes your sad eyes shine. He bumps your nose with his, burying himself against your forehead as you cocoon into him.

You want to ask him what he’s reading, listen intently to him as he tells you all about it, but you know you can’t. You can’t decipher anything today. It all feels too heavy. You can’t carry the weight of anything new with hands already full. At this point, you’ve lived in this soft hoodie of his , the one you stole after his tour two years back because it smelled like him, for the past 3 days. You don’t even have the energy to change. With that kind of retention rate, seems there’s no point in asking your brilliant professor to explain anything.

Still, it’s always so nice to hear his voice. Especially with your ear to his chest like this. 

So you ask anyway.

“Will you read to me, Joonie? Life always feels better when you’re reading.” You press your face deep into the copper of his neck, an open mouthed kiss placed against his pulse.

“It’s all kind of theoretical,” he chuckles. He’s bashful. If holding you weren’t occupying his hands, you know they’d be nervously fiddling with the back of his neck. A nerdy boy with a too big brain hesitant to share his discoveries.

“Is it good though? You’ve already read Jung to me, and I stayed awake through that. I think I deserve more credit.” You poke his throat with your nose. You’re not genuinely affronted, it’s just nice to remind him you're competent too. Sometimes.

His sweet chuckle then is earthy and rich, all dark molasses. “True. You actually gave pretty good feedback for that too. Fine. Didn’t mean to underestimate you. Just… bear with me if it feels odd? I haven't read it before. I can’t vouch for it all yet.”

“Fine by me. I’m just here for the cuddles and my Kim Namjoon audiobook.”

He can feel your smile against his skin. It makes him press you just that extra little bit tighter against him, exhaling soft through his nose when he feels you return the gesture.

Scooping up his paperback, he adjusts his glasses where they’ve slipped down his nose, clearing his throat to project like the narrator he claims he’s not but loves to be. He’s quiet for a few more beats. You can hear pages rustling as you sink against his skin. You imagine he must be trying to find where he was when you interrupted, or perhaps searching for a passage that seems apropos. Which he chooses, you don’t know, but you can feel when he settles, just before his caramel voice sweetens the thin air of the room.

“It's the same with the wound in our hearts,” he begins. “ We need to give them our attention so that they can heal. Otherwise the wounds continue to cause us pain. Sometimes for a very long time. We're all going to get hurt. But here's the trick - they also serve an amazing purpose. 

When our hearts are wounded that's when they open. We grow through pain. We grow through difficult situations. That's why you have to embrace each and every difficult thing in your life.”

You aren’t sure when your eyes opened, not sure when they began to glaze over or when you started to cry. But you did. And you are. The salty things dripping down against Namjoon’s silken skin. Your sweatered knuckles try to knock them away, but to no avail. Your cheeks are still a wet mess and now his collarbone is too.

“Joon, what is this? What are you reading?”

“Oh… um, it’s— terribly long title but— Into the Magic Shop: A Neurosurgeon's Quest to Discover the Mysteries of the Brain and the Secrets of the Heart. Isn't that a mouthful?” his laugh is self deprecating, small, but still the most beautiful sound.

God, you hate how sensitive and soft you are right now. You don’t want to be sitting here at 4pm in your boyfriend’s lap crying over a paragraph in a book you've never even heard of before, but here you are.

“ is that… what the whole book is about ?”

“You know, I don’t know. I haven’t read it all yet. Jackson recommended it, I’m just now getting to it. Why - do you not like it? I can put this down. Read you something else if this is too heavy. You always like the poetry. I can grab that one anthology you like.”

You can feel as he starts to shuffle beneath you, eager to track down new reading material for you, afraid he’s scared you off, when the fluttering weight of your palm tethers him to his spot.

“No, stay. Keep reading. I want to hear the rest.”

You can practically hear him smile. Relieved. Can feel his dimples manifest without even trying. He kisses your hair, tilts your chin up to kiss you too. The complexity of bergamot and black tea making his supple lips even more bewitching than normal. The window in the corner is cracked open, the humidity it leaks in making your skin sticky as you lean against him.

He’s lovely like this. The rain soaked air mixing with his natural scent, a broad hand on your chin, warm thumb beneath your lip as you mold pliant into his kiss. He ends it with a peck to your lips, a tap of his nose to your nose, before hoisting you so close against him you just may fuse together.

And he reads. He reads until he’s exhausted. Til the rain has stopped, and you’ve drifted to rest pressed against the skin of his chest.

He folds the book shut once your breathing has stilled, his thumb marking the page as he tips you both to lay down sideways. As he extends his pinprick tingling legs for the first time in ages, you hoist yourself around him in your sleep like a koala, and he chuckles. That’s usually his move.

He kisses your hair then, traipsing fingers tenderly through the escaped bits of it that brush across your cheeks. He wonders if you know how madly in love with you he is. How often he’s wondered what he’d do without you. Today, like most days lately, your light was dim, but still kelvins brighter than anyone else’s.

He sends a silent thank you to whatever deity arranged things in such a way that he can hold you to his chest like this as the daylight saving’s darkness floods his studio office. You seemed so sad today, but he knows it won’t last forever. It’ll pass. It always does. He’ll just hold you until it does. And then some.

[disquietiswhatitis]

You’re my favorite reason to lose sleep (Sam/Andrea)

Of all the many things Sam has experienced that she did not expect since her relationship with Andrea began, the most surprising by far might be this:

Andrea Rojas snores.

Not always, but she does. It’s a quiet snore, nothing compared to the logs Sam’s father would saw when he fell asleep in front of the tv. Sam’s been with Andrea long enough to know that her lover only starts snoring if either she consistently hasn’t been getting enough sleep or if she’s gotten extremely drunk because she refuses to accept that Sam can outdrink her when it comes to tequila. As fun as drunk Andy can be, they’ve been good about their wine intake and they haven’t had any tequila in the apartment for a little over a month, so Sam figures it must be the lack of sleep. Reaching out, Sam takes a strand of her sleeping fiance’s hair, tucks it behind her ear, whispers “why haven’t you been sleeping baby?” and places a quick, tender kiss to Andrea’s shoulder. It’s a rhetorical question. Andrea snores again. Now, Sam loves Andrea. Truly, passionately loves her as does Andrea with Sam. While past heartbreaks have taught her to tread more cautiously, Sam still loves so easily and has so much to give. Andrea, conversely, hadn’t felt worthy of love in so long, she built walls that made it hard for her to receive or convey it. Somehow, much to the surprise of them both, Sam shattered those walls. They’ve been through their fair share in the time they’ve been together. While communication hasn’t always been their strongest suit, they’ve put in the time and effort to get better at it because they both enthusiastically agree that the other is so worth it. Knowing this, Sam is aware that she could ask Andrea what’s wrong, that Andrea would tell her and that they could go from there. However, Andrea is also asleep at the moment and Sam can’t think of anything else. She can’t put on her airpods and distract herself with her audiobook. The sultry voice of the narrator combined with the scene she was last narrating, well, it would make her want to wake Andrea up and... do things. Sam doesn’t know what she’d watch on any of the way-too-many-streaming-services-they-rarely-use without Andrea cuddled up with her on the couch. She’s not particularly hungry and she already went to the gym this morning. Reaching over to her nightstand, Sam puts on her reading glasses, grabs her phone and starts scrolling through social media she doesn’t really use. She likes a few photos of Alex and Kelly with their daughter. She glances through some articles about current events. After about five minutes, Sam sets her glasses and phone down and lets out a small huff. She can’t help but still think about it.   Why hasn’t Andrea been sleeping? Sam gets up and walks to her dresser. She pulls out a pair of underwear and a slightly too large tee shirt, puts them on and goes to the kitchen to grab a glass of water. Grabbing a mug out of the cabinet that had a picture of two avocados on the top row, three on the middle row and four on the bottom that said “avocados, avocatres, avoquatro,” Sam ponders her lover’s possible sleep-depriving woes. “It’s not Obsidian, right?” Sam thinks as she pours water from their filter into a mug, a gift she had gotten Andrea during their vacation to Miami. Sam knows how much it hurt Andrea when her company fell, but Sam stood by her side through it all and figured Andrea’s sleepless nights over that were over. “Could it be CatCo?” the brunette contemplates as she finishes her water and goes to refill it. Maybe. The print media conglomerate’s business model transition in an increasingly print-less world had been a bit of mixed bag even before Lena purchased it all those years ago. She knows Andrea likes the work she does at CatCo well enough, but she’d definitely noticed that her mood get a little more sour for a bit when it was the only thing she had left after Obsidian. Not that CatCo was a consolation prize but Andrea loved being on the cutting edge of the tech world and short of some major restructuring, CatCo just wouldn’t provide the same opportunity. Still, the business wasn’t struggling. They had a few layoffs some months ago, which led to some incredibly passive aggressive back and forth jabs between Kara and Andrea at game night shortly thereafter, but otherwise everything was fine. “Ok, lightning round” Sam states to herself, setting down her mug so she can count off with her fingers all the possibilities it could be. It’s definitely not the bills and nothing broke or needed repair around their home. Sam’s truck is functioning like a dream. They bought their outfits for the Lena Luthor Foundation gala two days ago. Andrea bought a dashing suit and Sam an incredibly curve-hugging dress, respectively; Sam thought it was a refreshing change of pace but she was more looking forward to the suit and tie look she had planned when she married Andrea...

Marry Andrea. The wedding. Sam forgot to mail out the invitations. Shit. Sam runs over to the table by the door and sure enough, there they were. A whole stack of save the dates that Sam had set down on Sunday evening, promising to mail them out first thing on Monday. It was Friday night. Fuck.

Quickly but quietly running to their home office, Sam pulls out a sticky note and a sharpie out of the desk drawer and in all caps writes “DO NOT FORGET.” Careful to put the sticky note and pen away quietly, Sam returns to the table by the entrance. She grabs the invitations, goes back to the kitchen and places them on the counter with the note and her purse next to them. There was no reason to try to hide her snafu from Andrea. They have a good relationship and Sam is confident Andrea will forgive her so long as she’s honest and apologizes (and credit to her Catholic boarding school education, Andrea sometimes really enjoys making Sam beg for forgiveness.) Refilling her water, Sam heads back to their bedroom, discarding her clothes and thinking of how she’s going to make it up to Andrea tomorrow. As soon as she climbs into bed, her partner, still in her sleeping position, states “you’re thinking too loud” in a voice that lets Sam know she’s awake but not fully conscious. Sam still smiles at the sound of her voice and happily says “Hey, you’re up.” Andrea turns, changes from laying on her left side to her right in order to face her significant other. “I am. What were you thinking about?” Sam just smiles “You. Always.” Andrea smiles back. “Oh? Do tell.” Sam tells her “You were snoring.” Andrea deflates. “You sure know how to woo a woman, Sammy.” Sam picks up Andrea’s left hand and points to the rock on Andrea’s ring finger “Damn straight. Exhibit A.” Andrea smiles again “You’ve got me there.” “So why the snoring? Is everything okay?” Sam asks.

“Yeah, everything’s fine honey. I just stayed up way too late...reading.” The way Andrea says “reading” catches Sam’s attention. Whatever Andrea was reading, Sam can tell she’s not not embarrassed by it and it almost certainly wasn’t a sales report. “Oh. What were you reading?” Sam teases playfully. Andrea couldn’t refuse the dimples facing her even if she wanted to. She just hopes the teasing won’t be too severe. “Buffy and Faith fanfic” Andrea states rather bluntly. Sam laughs. Andrea loves that laugh; it’s one of the many ways Sam broke down her barriers and made Andrea fall in love. “That’s great babe. Did you enjoy it?” Sam asks, no longer laughing but still smiling and still completely sincere. Sam is not mocking in any way, just delighted at the fact a successful CEO of a multimillion dollar company stayed up too late reading about a twenty year old ship. Andrea knows this and while she knows it’s not an interest Sam shares, Sam actively listens and encourages Andrea when she talks about it because Sam knows it matters to her. Andrea loves Sam so freaking much. Andrea delicately runs her hand up Sam’s arm and says “I enjoy us” in an overtly suggestive tone. Sam doesn’t need to be told twice. She goes for Andrea’s neck first; slow, steady kisses, savoring every pulse beat she can feel as Andrea’s breathing starts to shallow. She works her way up to Andrea’s earlobe and bites it just enough to get a moan out of Andrea without leaving (much of) a mark as her lover’s hands grasp at Sam’s shoulders. Sam kisses her way across Andrea’s wonderful jawline, pulling back just before Andrea’s luscious lips can connect with hers. Andrea’s lips instinctively chase after Sam’s but Sam pulls her head back just a bit farther to stay out of reach and tease the shorter woman, if only for a moment. She goes back in and Eskimo kisses her nose with Andrea’s. The buildup is excruciating for Andrea but damn if not’s always worth it. A breath away from Andrea’s lips, Sam looks into her eyes and asks “Yeah?” Andrea rolls onto her back. Sam follows, her arms on either side of Andrea’s head, to stay positioned above her lover. Andrea tosses aside the blanket and with it, the sight of her exquisite body is completely bare for Sam to drink in. Sam’s eye dilate and the only way Andrea can describe her look is carnal. Taking in the site of the sculpted woman above her, she knows she can reciprocate that desire. Andrea huskily replies “Yeah” and as she hungrily grabs Sam’s face to bring her in for a searing kiss, their bodies suddenly writhing against one another, Sam figured it’d probably be okay to wait to tell her about the invitations. 

Author’s note: I actually felt inspired to write a short Reignjas ficlet yesterday and I went with it. As the idea kept expanding, it wound up heading in a direction I’ve never tried to write before. I ended up putting more thought and hours into it than I had expected, staying up to the point where I maybe had to call out of work this morning (my life’s a mess but that’s not important right now.) Anyway, this isn’t that final ficlet. I’ll probably be working on that (more responsibly) for a little bit but I felt confident enough that I wanted to post this (mostly) smut free version. Hope y’all enjoy it. 

[hurt-care]

The Reunion - WW2 era fic

I've been listening to an audiobook about WWII in the UK and there's been multiple mentions of people writing in their diaries about suffering from lengthy colds as well as a discussion of the increase in casual sex during the war (especially during air raids, when it became a welcome distraction). So, let's just say I was inspired...! 

Male, cold, OCs, contains 18+ content

The Reunion -

The club was positively bursting with young revellers and the sounds of a jazz band playing as couples moved across the dance floor in tight embraces, flitting in and out of shadow of the chandeliers sparkling overhead. Champagne flowed liberally, delivered by waiters in smart tuxedo jackets and white gloves. If a time-traveller had been magically transported inside, they would have no idea that outside the walls of the club there was a war on.

Making her way through the throngs of people was Katherine Marsh, or Kat to her close friends. Close at her heels was Mary Alderman, an old school chum who'd come up through London society with her. The girls wove through the dancers on route to a table up on the balcony that circled the dance floor, providing a spectacular view of the room below. Only the uppers of society generally occupied the tables here and the demand was such that often bribes had to be given to the head waiter to ensure a spot. Peter Halford, one of Kat's other longtime friends, had been in charge of the evening's transaction and now he waved cheerily from a spot in the corner as the girls approached.

“Hello, Peter!” Kat said joyfully as she sided into a chair along the wall, tucking the skirt of her silk gown around her. “Have you ordered a bottle yet or shall I do the honours?”

“It's just coming now,” Peter replied, nodding towards the approaching waiter who carried a magnum size bottle in a silver ice bucket while another waiter followed behind deftly balancing a tray of champagne coupes.

“Your timing is impeccable as ever,” Mary said with a laugh. “I'm parched.”

She flashed a smile at Peter, her eyes sparkling in the light of the crystal scones along the walls. Kat smirked knowingly at her friend. Mary had been pursuing Peter over the course of several of these evenings out on the town, but Peter remained seemingly oblivious to her advances.

Tonight, Mary was draped in layers of royal blue silk with a spectacular diamond bracelet glinting on her wrist. She looked radiant and Kat thought Peter had to be completely daft to not notice. Kat, on the other hand, had no particular beau in mind. She'd danced with dozens of men and dined at parties across the countryside around London, but no one gentleman had captured her heart. Besides, she was barely twenty and so many of the young men her age were away at service. For now, she was content with dancing and snogging sessions in dim alleyway with soldiers on leave and officers posted to city stations.

The waiter poured them all glasses of champagne and the trio toasted to health, happiness, and the victory of Britain. The chat was light and merry, with Peter filling them in on his new job at the Royal Airforce's London offices near Whitehall. At the hour neared eleven, someone took to the microphone to introduce the next band complete with a line of cabaret dancers dressed in feathers and sequins for entertainment. Mary squealed in delight as the drums kicked up the beat of a popular dance tune and she reached for Peter's hand.

“Oh, will you dance?” she asked breathlessly. “I love this song.”

Peter downed the last of his champagne glass as he stood up.

“Of course. Kat, find yourself a man and let's go.”

The two disappeared into a sea of people moving towards stairs that led to the dance floor. Kat drained her own coupe and stood, surveying the crowded tables for familiar faces or handsome strangers.

A few girls were lingering at a table of Naval officers and as the men stood and paired off with them, one man remained seated alone with a cigarette in his hand. As the duos passed by, Kat realized with a heart-dropping thud that she recognized the lone officer that had stayed behind.

Oliver Hartnett had danced with her at her first debutant ball when she was seventeen and she'd been completely enraptured by him. Two pages of her diary were dedicated to extolling his virtues, from the gentle tambour of his voice to his green eyes, from to his broad shoulders to his chestnut hair. As quickly as he'd come into her life, he'd left it again. They'd shared two dances that night and some brief conversation at a dinner party a week later, and then she hadn't seen him since. Word in the upper circles said he'd gone to Scotland to work for an aging uncle's business and he disappeared from London's upper crust.

Kat dumped the dregs of the champagne bottle into her coupe and gulped it down, feeling the rush of bubbles to her head as she bolstered her courage. She reached into her small handbag for her compact, inspecting her face and reapplying a coat of her precious lipstick, as the bright red shade was now nearly impossible to find with the war rations and so she reserved it for nights out alone.

With a smile on her face that she hoped concealed her nerves, she glided as confidently as she could over to the table.

“Ollie Hartnett, is that you?” she said over the din of the music and the crowd. The man at the table seemed startled by the interruption and he looked up at her, his face vacant for a moment. Then, a grin spread across his face.

“Oh my goodness, Miss Marsh,” he said, standing suddenly and extending his hand.

She laughed.

“It's Kat, please,” she said, taking his broad hand in her and shaking it. “Do you mind if I sit?”

“Of course, please do,” he said, fumbling to get around the vacant chairs nearby in order to pull out one for her. She folded herself gracefully into the seat, crossing her ankles as her mother had always instructed. For once, she was glad she'd listened to Mary's constant chatter about fashion and had worn the deep emerald green silk gown with the black trim that she'd purchased for the previous winter's New Year Eve celebration at Mary's family estate. It set off her figure nicely and contrasted with her auburn hair and milk-white complexion.

Oliver was shaking her head, still grinning.

“What a surprise,” he said, his gentle voice barely audible over the music. “You look well.”

She smiled back.

“I am! Well, as well as anyone is in London at war, I suppose. You've joined up, I see. On leave?”

“For a few more weeks,” he replied, taking a slow drag of his almost burnt-out cigarette. “I'm posted at Brighton, usually.”

“And you're not on the arms of a dozen girls dancing your night away?” she teased.

He snubbed out the cigarette in the ash tray and shook his head.

“Honestly, I wasn't keen on going out at all but the other gents insisted.”

“If I recall, you were quite popular on the dance floor,” she continued. “What's changed?”

“Just a bit under the weather, that's all,” he replied. “Haven't felt up to much dancing tonight, but I'll spare one for you, for old time's sake.”

She felt herself blush.

“Not yet,” she said. “I have to hear all about where you disappeared to that summer. You left a lot of us wondering why one of our dashing debs up and left London at the height of the season.”

“It's not a particularly exciting story, but if I'm going to tell it we ought to do it over a drink.”

He beckoned to a waiter who returned shortly with two cocktails on a black lacquered tray and a serving of peach melba for each of them.

Oliver detailed how the rumours were true; he'd left London for the banal task of running the business operations for his uncle's small factory in Glasgow. A year ago, as the ferocity of the war had begun to increase, he'd enlisted in Royal Navy and left the factory in the hands of the old foreman and his cousin, a savvy young woman named Rose.

More than once during the story he'd paused momentarily to clear his throat with a cough or take a sip of his cocktail to revive his waining voice. Kat felt a pang of sympathy now that she was close and could see clearly the weariness in his face. Though it was spring, the weather had been dreadful and frigid for weeks and many people she knew had been battling heavy colds.

She told him about her adventures in London with Mary and Peter, and about her volunteering posting with the Women's Auxiliary Service where she worked to find temporary housing for those displaced by air raids.

When they'd finished their peach melbas and cocktails, the band struck up a lively tune and Oliver appeared to summon some energy with a broad smile aimed at Kat.

“This is the one,” he said, extending a hand. “Would you like to dance?”

She nodded, trying not to let her rush of enthusiasm show too greatly.

He led her down to the dance floor and took her into his arms, leading the gentle sway as they danced among the other couples. His broad hand rested on the small of her back and Kat felt a rush of heat to her body as they touched, cheeks almost against one another. The gentle warmth of his breath tickled her neck and she was sure he was about to lean in to kiss her there.

His voice mumbled something deep and low into her ear but she couldn't discern it over the music.

“Mmm?” she replied.

“Oh Christ, sorry,” she heard him say and suddenly he was moving swiftly away from her, his one hand leaving her back and his other dropping its grip from hers.

Eh-TSGHT! He turned his face into the sleeve of his officer's uniform, sneezing inaudibly to her as the rest of the dance floor continued their rhythmic sway.

“So sorry,” he shouted, leaning back so she could hear him. He reached into his pants pocket for a handkerchief, which he dabbled briefly under his nose.

“Sorry,” he repeated as he took up his embrace once more.

“It's okay,” she said into his ear. “I hope you don't feel too poorly.”

“No,” he said into hers, his lips almost brushing against her. “Better now.”

She leaned herself closer against him and he pressed his lips to her neck. She sighed with delight, feeling all the rush of emotions that she'd had when they'd first danced. His body was more muscular and square now, without the lanky lines he'd had as an eighteen year old.

Tilting her head upwards, she met his lips and they kissed briefly.

He leaned over to speak into her ear again.

“I hope I'm not catching.”

“I don't care,” she said and captured his lips again. The kiss deepened and a couple nearby sided away to give them a moment of privacy.

The song ended and Katherine stayed in the embrace of Oliver's arms as the next began.

He looked down at her with a soft, tired expression.

“I'm dreadfully sorry, but I'm afraid all this noise and such is too much for me tonight.”

“Can you stay up a little longer?” she asked. “There's a nice restaurant not too far from here. We could go and have a drink there and talk. It's much quieter.”

It was past midnight now and while Oliver looked like he might consider declining in favour of being tucked up in bed, he nodded and smiled.

She grinned back at him and kissed his cheek.

“I'm so glad. I'll find my friends to tell them I'm off. Meet me by the doors? Would you be a dear and get my coat for me?”

She fished the small coatcheck tag from her handbag.

After she'd shouted her goodbyes to Mary and Peter (who looked very cozy together on the dance floor, she noted with pleasure), she found Oliver leaning against a wall by the exit with her coat over his arm and his own Navy-issued wool peacoat already on. He held up her coat to help her into it and offered his arm to her, walking at her side out into the cool spring night.

The air was clear and crisp, with a half-moon overhead. The streets were brutally dark thanks to the blackout and they made their way clumsily along the road, squinting to see landmarks in the dim moonlight.

“It's down to the left, one more block,” she said as they passed the entrance to another dance club where the only light came from several cigarettes that glowed as young people poured in and out from the doors and slipped behind blackout curtains into the well-lit hall.

“Can we pause a moment,” Oliver asked. “Sorry, just a moment.”

She stopped, turning to look at him.

“Sorry,” he repeated, reaching for his handkerchief. She could see him silhouetted in the dim moonlight as his shoulders trembled and he shook his head for a moment. Then, with a deep breath, he pitched forward with a wrenching sneeze.

Hurhhh-TSGHXTT!

Unable to mask the sound, he gave a brief but noisy blow into the handkerchief afterwards before hastily tucking it into his coat pocket.

“I'm so sorry,” he said, taking her arm up again. She gave him a light squeeze, leaning against his side as she did so.

“Don't apologize,” she said. “I'm only sorry to hear you so poorly. Blasted cold seems to be going around everywhere.”

“The boys in my unit said that if I can't spend a night out with a head cold, there's no way I'd last through a month at sea battling the Germans,” said Oliver, his voice a little hoarse. He cleared his throat with a cough. “I suppose that's true.”

“Well, we'll find you something warm to drink at the restaurant and that should revive you,” Kat said cheerfully.

They were just rounding the last corner onto the street where the restaurant was located when a sound split the air. The wail of the air raid sirens began their raised pitch, increasing to a loud din of pulsing noise.

They paused in the street, stunned. It shouldn't have been entirely a surprise; the sirens were a regular occurrence in the city but neither one of them had encountered the alert while out on the street.

In the darkness, a voice shouted authoritatively.

“To your shelters, please! Nearest public shelter is the Piccadilly Circus station. To your shelters please!”

The figure of an air raid warden with a metal helmet on passed by.

“Which way is Piccadilly?” Oliver asked.

Kat glanced up and down the dark street.

“My rooms are only two or so more blocks past here,” she said. “If we hurry, we should be fine. There's a cellar in the back.”

Gripping his arm tightly, she led the way down the road. Several times they nearly collided with others making their way to safety. As they neared the house where she rented lodgings, the sky began to shine with searchlights and in the distance, the sound of anti-aircraft guns began to crackle. The bliss of dancing and the haze of champagne cleared from Kat's head as she steered them down an alley between some homes and to a metal hatch that covered the entrance to the cellar. She tugged it open and hovered a foot over the void, finding the top step.

“Six steps down. Pull the door shut behind you,” she said to Oliver. Her hand trailed along the earthen edge of the wall until it met the edge of a candlestick and a pack of matches. She struck one alight as Oliver shut the hatch with a loud bang.

The tiny chamber glowed in the candlelight, illuminating the stone and soil room. Oliver was breathing heavily, almost wheezing. Katherine tipped the lit candle to light others, gradually brightening the room enough to see without too much strain.

“Sit,” she insisted, gesturing to a small crate topped with a cushion. “Catch your breath. I'll put some tea on.”

Hhh-TSGHHH!

The sound of the sneeze startled her and she looked over in time to see Oliver building up to a second. He tipped forward, nose nestling into the folds of his waiting handkerchief.

Ehhh—hhehhTSXHHT! “Bless you!” she said earnestly. “Are you warm enough? There's plenty of blankets. My landlady, Mrs. Beecher, is up north visiting her sister and the other girl who rents rooms is at her family home for the week. So it's just you and me here unless we get some surprise guests from next door.”

“No, I'm fine,” he said quietly, wiping his nose. “Sorry.”

“I don't mind a bit of sniffling,” she said teasingly. “You don't need to keep apologizing.”

“Have you had to spend many nights down here?” he asked, surveying the cellar. It was appointed with provisions for the three woman who lived above plus extras for any visitors who might end up sheltering there. Two wooden bunks were stacked against one wall, each with pillows and blankets and thin mattresses. Another mattress was rolled and stored in a nearby trunk with additional linens. A small table held a kettle on a fuel-powered heater and several teacups. There was a deck of cards, a basket of knitting, and a lidded chamberpot. Someone had cheekily hung a framed piece of embroidery that read “Home Sweet Home.”

“Oh, I've lost count,” Kat said as she set the kettle to boil once she'd filled it with water from one of the three large canteens by the steps that led outside. “This is only the second time I've ended up down here in an evening gown, though.”

Once the kettle was heating, she opened a chest and took out a wool jumper and a pair of socks.

“Good thing I'm prepared,” she added.

Oliver watched as she sat on a wooden chair and unstrapped her high heel shoes and slid her hand up under her gown to unclip her precious nylon stockings. Careful not to snag them, she rolled them down her legs and pulled on the socks.

He laughed as she put the jumper on over her evening gown, put her coat back on top of that, and donned a pair of Wellington rubber boots. She struck a pose for him.

“You'd be the toast of all the fashion magazines,” he declared.

His chuckle turned to a cough that sounded strained and painful. She frowned at him and shook her head.

“I'd say you should've followed your own ideas and stayed home instead of the advice of your mates,” she said. “But I have to admit I've awfully glad I ran into you.”

He recovered from the coughing spell and looked at her with affection.

“I'm glad too,” he said. She poured the hot water from the kettle into a teapot to steep and selected two teacups.

Outside, the din of the air raid sirens had ended. There was the sound of distant explosions, but for the time being they were far from the action.

“I'm afraid I've no milk to offer but we have a bit of honey.”

“That'd be lovely, thanks,” he said.

She poured them each a cup and sat opposite him, savouring the warm tea. He drank his own cup, clearly soothed by the hot liquid. He dabbed at his nose a few times with his handkerchief as it began to run from the warmth.

When the cups were empty, they sat in silence for a moment. A bomb exploded somewhere a few blocks away and the candles flickered as the shockwave trembled through the earth. The remaining teacups on the table rattled against each other. Kat closed her eyes for a moment, sighing.

“Are you frightened?” Oliver asked.

“No, I don't think so,” she said. “I suppose I always am, a little. But not terribly.”

She set her teacup down on the table and moved to sit on the bottom bunk bed, patting the mattress beside her. He stood and moved to her side. The next thing she knew, they were kissing, his hands were in her hair and she had a hand on his chest. She kicked off the boots and pulled up her dress so she could sit astride his lap. He kissed down her neck and tugged her coat off, his hand going under her jumper and stroking her breasts through the silk of her gown.

She exhaled with pleasure, starting to slowly grind against his hips. She reached for the waistband of his trousers and he helped her with his belt. He made a soft moaning noise as she fumbled with the buttons at his fly and found her way downwards. His lips brushed her shoulder, pressing kisses where the neck of her jumper was stretched to the side. A brief cough escaped him, puffing against her skin. He muttered an apology and she murmured a sweet assurance as she began to stroke him.

“Wait,” he said breathlessly. He pulled her arms upwards and guided the jumper off over her head. She pushed his coat off him and made quick work of the buttons of his shirt, tugging that off too. He urgently shed his shoes and trousers as she stood and slipped off the silk gown revealing a satin bra and knickers with mother-of-pearl buttons.

He watched her hungrily as she slid out of the knickers and climbed back onto the mattress, guiding his pants off his hips. They kissed tenderly and she settled down on top of him, hips rising to meet hips. He made that same low moaning noise and she felt her body jolt with pleasure, hands roaming through his chestnut curls.

He made love to her urgently as the sound of bombs echoed outside. They moved together, breath increasing to gasps. His nose was running freely and he briefly sniffled and pressed it against his own shoulder to rub it. She kissed his neck and felt the expanse of his chest press against hers as he took a sharp breath. His body shuddered under her as he sneezed a restrained outburst, clearly trying to keep the explosion minimal.

Ngh-GHXT!

She moaned involuntarily as the spasm thrust him against her.

“Fuck,” he groaned under his breath. “Sorry.”

“Please,” she gasped. “Oliver!”

He sniffled thickly and then resumed with vigour until they both lay panting and shivering on the bed. He looked utterly exhausted but there was a smile on his lips. She leaned over and kissed his cheek.

“You sweet thing,” she whispered. “As if you weren't exhausted at the start of the evening.”

She slipped out of the bed with a blanket around her shoulders and found his shirt and socks and underthings on the ground.

“Best put at least your socks on before you drop off entirely,” she said tenderly, helping him dress before they both slipped under the quilts again.

She woke at some ungodly hour to the sound of nose-blowing and the roar of the 'all clear' siren. From feel, she could tell Ollie was sitting up in bed, straining to clear his nose with his sodden handkerchief. It was pitch black in the shelter and she had no idea how long they'd been asleep.

She managed to find the matches and lit a candle. Oliver sounded dreadfully congested and by the dim light of the single candle, she could see his nose was red and angry-looking at the edges.

“Oh, love,” she said, leaving the candle on the bedside table and climbing back under the quilts next to him. “How do you feel?”

He exhaled noisily.

“Rather poorly, I'm afraid,” he said hoarsely. “I hope for your sake it's not catching.”

She squinted at the wristwatch she kept wrapped on the bedpost. It was half-past four.

“It's still early but there's the all-clear. Do you want to get rugged up in my bed upstairs or stay here.”

He folded the handkerchief and tucked it at his side, snuggling back down beside her.

“That answers that,” she said, tucking his head against her breast. She stroked his hair and planted a kiss there. “Try to get some more rest, darling. I'll take good care of you.”

[sukipershipper]

Can you spill some of ur bugsnax hcs?

I assume you mean with the characters, in which case, Yes of course!  Bear with me though that all of these are going to take place Post-Snaktooth Island. I might do some headcanons on what happened on the island but for now take these.

(SPOILERS AHEAD IF YOU HAVEN’T SEEN THE END OF THE GAME, I also apologize for it being so freaking long...I actually did not intend on that)

FILBO

They all lived in a small but very prosperous town, said town doesn’t have a name cause Mun isn’t creative enough to make one yet

After being elected Mayor, Filbo had learned to become more assertive with others. His role as Mayor of the small town involves him doing a few small tasks, like cleaning up the streets or helping with lessons at the schools

Other times however he is brought into meetings to plan celebrations, opening new buildings and ways they can develop the community.

His meeting council includes Floofty, who is always helping him out in terms of his decisions.

His office has all of the trinkets and maps from Liz’s adventures, as well as pictures of everything they did on Snaktooth and all the pictures she and Eggabelle have of each other.

Filbo constantly sends out letters in bottles to Snaktooth in the hopes that Liz and Egg will find it and write back. He is still waiting on a response from them

When he gets bored, he often just draws in a spare journal he has. He does this in meetings or when he’s at a lunch with the others

He had a statue of Liz and Egg made and placed in the center of the town to help remember them and what they stood for

WAMBUS/TRIFFANY

Wambus and Triffany live in a small country home just outside the town next to the beach and a small grotto. 

The place has a large amount of land for Wambus to start a farm with all sorts of sauces. The beach they live next to has a big cave with all sorts of secrets that Triffany is willing to discover.

Reconnecting with their kids has been a challenge, seeing as they left quite abruptly. The kids did eventually start coming around though.

Wambus is a very good cook, lots of people headcanon it and I headcanon it too. The man can make a mean roast. Only reason he never did it on Snaktooth was because the food was already walking around so he had no need to.

Triffany may look like a stick but she’s actually quite strong. On the same levels as Wambus and Chandlo? Maybe not. But she has punted several people before.

She is also very unconventional in her methods, resulting in lots of Scars and broken bones. Wambus had tried bandaging her up before but after failing 15 times he just called Floofty.

Speaking of Floofty, the couple have a very good relationship with the scientist. Floofty often helps Triffany with collecting samples or attempting to help Wambus with growing crops, though those attempts often result in Wambus yelling and Triffany trying to calm her husband down.

FLOOFTY

Floofty now teaches at the towns school, they’re a very talented professor and many of the students they teach have delighted in their work. Though other teachers find the methods very...unconventional.

Though Floofty is still quite cold hearted to most of the grumpus’ they have learned to be more cheerful towards certain Grumps. One of which being Snorpy and the other being their students.

Many students ask how Floofty lost their leg, to which they reply: That information is irrelevant, but if you truly wish to know then speak with the Mayor

When Not teaching they’re usually helping Snorpy out with anything involving the Grumpinati. Though they aren’t really of much help considering their methods

They definitely are considered a cannibal, Floofty was once seen carrying an arm (no one knows if that was theirs) and took a little nibble of it...then spat it out and complained that it was too salt

They are always helping Filbo out in terms of his mayoral duties.

GRAMBLE/WIGGLE

Gramble and Wiggle share a small little two story home in the town. The house is decorated with all sorts of flowers and different patterns on the fence

While Wiggle is always busy touring, playing music, Gramble became the local veterinarian for the town. His experience with the Snax actually prepared him for the animals. 

He also has a small little puppy, ten times better than any of the Snax he had

Gramble still does keep pictures of Sprout around his room, as much as he hated knowing he harbored a parasite in his home, he still missed the little guy. (I am fully convinced the one at the end though was Sprout)

He and Wiggle began dating right after they settled into the house together, believing that it was much needed change for the both of them.

Gramble knits sweaters for Wiggle since she goes out touring so much, he also knits plush versions of the Snax he kept back on Snaktooth. It was the biggest mistake he made, cause now he envisions them staring at him and wanting to murder him

Wiggle always tries to help him when it comes to his nightmares. Playing white noise or ASMR videos so he can go to sleep

Her songs are very well received and she has quite a lot of publicity. Do The Wiggle is still one of her best selling numbers, but she has some love for her other pieces too.

She is always asked to sing at events by Filbo, and of course she never says no. One of her favorite things to do is get one of the kids to come up and sing Do The Wiggle with her since it’s one of the best songs in their opinion

She has a ring box tucked away in her dresser, she’s waiting for the right moment to pull it out on Gramble and propose

CROMDO

Cromdo is doing much better in life, opening up a successful karaoke bar and gets quite a lot of business from some of the guys in town. 

He also showed the less serious side of himself a lot more, and once he let down such a defensive guard he was able to get further in life, albeit he still has a long way to go

He and Beffica still don’t get along, but they’re on better terms than they were back on Snaktooth 

He hasn’t completely dropped his ways though, he’s still a big old Scumbag (and we love him for it). Often he tries to make a profit off something miniscule like an old bottlecap. 

Though Cromdo is still a scumbag, he helped Filbo and Buddy set up Filbo’s campaign to get him elected

Cromdo still tries stealing Triffany’s stuff and Wambus fucking yeets him all the way into town. How he has no broken bones from that is still a mystery to everyone.

BEFFICA

Beffica is now a photographer for the local newspaper, probably not a good choice in many of the Grumps opinions

She is however much better than she was on Snaktooth, and does have a small friend group outside of the Snaktooth Island group

Her old friend group has tried getting in touch with her but she’s very reluctant to talk to them again

Many of the older grumpus’ have basically adopted her because she’s still very shaky after everything, they didn’t expect her to be so shaky but life is surprising.

Her favorite person to go to though is Triffany, for the pure fact that she and Triffany just talk about guys and it’s the best chat ever

She and Filbo are on much better terms, and she may or may not have some feelings hidden for the new Mayor but we will never truly know

She and her ‘Bestie’ go out for Boba tea all the time, a truly fun experience for the both of them

CHANDLO/SNORPY

Chandlo takes Snorpy out on morning runs all the time, he’s proud that his bro is taking baby steps into letting the outside world embrace them

Oh, Snorpy is also He/They now, I honestly feel like it fits them

Snorpy and Chandlo moved to a small little apartment complex for now. The home is very quaint and the two have little designated areas for all the stuff they have.

They also had to make room for Floofty as the sibling insisted on staying with their brother for...reasons

Chandlo goes to library a lot to learn new techniques to help Snorpy, but he also secretly reads up on articles about the Grumpinati in the hopes to help Snorpy destroy them one day

He and Floofty have made a strong pact over the fact that Snorpy must be protected at all costs, no exceptions

Snorpy is a lot more open about what he does now, often asking for advice from Chandlo about his inventions and whatnot.

Neither of them are good cooks, they both try but both almost always burn the complex down so they just ask Floofty to do it

Snorpy actually bruises very easily, he is a literal tomato. So he doesn’t always participate in many physical activities but he does try his best

When Snorpy does bruise, Chandlo goes into full panic mode as he doesn’t know how to tend to wounds. No one ever told him that you can put ice to make it go down quicker

They are married, they have all the paperwork signed and the rings to prove it

SHELDA

She does still go by the name Shelda as people aren’t quite used to calling her Shellsy Woolbag

She actually took up dating when she encountered an old friend of hers, such friend does not have a name because as stated before, Mun is not creative

Shelda has a lot of books and meditation CD’s in her shelves, she also has a Tape Player so when she goes out on walks she can listen to some of the best audiobook readings

She and Floofty get a long a little better, sometimes Floofty will give her insight as to what the world is to THEM and Shelda shares a funny story in return, one that does manage to make Floofty laugh surprisingly.

People don’t often see her get out much, possibly because she’s always busy writing up her experiences and whatnot

She is Buddy’s comfort and the one that they room with currently, she is actually very good company believe it or not

She and Buddy also love writing little stories together as practice for her next book, and they also exchange drawings and doodles they’ve done over the course of the day.

And that’s pretty much it! 

[spookysweet-heart]

Phantom with a Visually Impaired S/O:

(This is from my own experience of being a Visually Impaired person.❤🖤)

• When he first noticed you, he realized you never came to the club during the evening and wore your sunglasses when the club was fully lit for the day.

• It wasn't till he started talking to you and asked why you only came during the day that he finally understood.

• He snaps his fingers and in an instant, the lights dim a little and you're able to take off your sunglasses.

• That day he learned that you dont bring your cane with you because you live down the block and memorized the way to get to the club and almost everything in it.

• He found you interesting but not the type to make a deal. Most people would, so they can be "normal" but he knew you wouldn't.

• After learning about your sensitivity to light and night blindness he had an idea. He asks you out after getting to know you just a bit more and to his surprise, you say yes but he can tell you're a little worried since he said to meet him back here in the evening.

• The first date was scary at first but once you there you felt comfortable immediately seeing the place lit up and almost empty.

• Phantom made sure to have your favorite meal made and that the lights on stage werent too harmful for youre eyes but also bright enough for the performers to do their job.

• Phantom does this well into the relationship where if the location of the date is far he'll have his driver pick you up while he gets things ready, making sure things are safe for you ahead of time.

• When he takes you to see performances with him he makes sure you two are always in the front row.

• He understands if you fall asleep on him cause he can't control everything so the lighting would make your eyes strain a bit.

• Whenever you need help with groceries or household things he sends one or two of his employees to help you shop and cook.

• He buys you all the equipment you need that will help make life easier.

• Once you mention wanting to get a guide dog and how worried you are since it's a very expensive and intense process, this boy is immediately suggesting organizations, helping you file all the papers, and is there with you during the interview process.

• He takes so many pictures of you and your new dog when you get home from training. He loves seeing you smile like you did that day.

• On days you aren't very busy he loves it when you come by to his office and just sit there with him.

• He takes notice of how you look at all the books he has and asks you if you have any in mind that you want to read.

• You're a little shy about telling him since it's been a couple of years since the last time you read an actual book and how it's kinda tough to find audiobooks you like.

• The next day he buys you all the audiobooks you listed and some he thought you might like and surprises you with them when he stops by your place after work.

• Phantom loves to read with you so he's listening to them with you, or he'd read them to you.

• He loves to go on vacation with you and makes sure where ever you two go it's always accessible for your dog too.

• Phantom takes your dog walks or runs when you want to rest for the day and it's great since he gets to bond with them and have some playtime at the park.

• Always sends you pictures he's able to take of them after a good play session.

• Phantoms very sweet and he loves you so much but the moment someone asks what's wrong with you or questions why he's dating someone whos disabled he immediately excuses himself from your side for a second and deals with it in his way.

• That being said he's usually threatening them but if the person makes you cry or upset they're pretty much dead.

• Phantom understands the frustraion you get at times when you cant see something so he gives you, your own orb to go into when you need to be completely alone. He knows its what you need when you ask him to take care of the dog for a couple hours.

• When you're frustrated but don't want to be alone hes by your side no matter what. He brings your favorite food, he puts on your favorite movie and cuddles you and gives you kisses to help you feel a little more calm.

• Phantom wishes he could help more but he knows its all up to you.

• But no matter what, through the good days and the bad days Phantom wouldn't give up on what you two have. To him, you're his world and he loves you too much to break that.

Tag List:

@bee-wrecker

@wildspeciallavender

@semiproeagle23

@smolwash

@huffle-princess

@justwritingscibbles

@freckled-words

@stuff-from-the-void-matron

@missrose-writes-stuff

@nerdqueenkat-writes

@nekosounds

@stretchy-longstocking

[talesfromgringolandia]

Underwing Challenge Day 14: what sort of training do Storm Guards undergo? Are there a lot of them? How do they know where to patrol (here I'm assuming that storms can form out of the blue too?) What do people think of them in general + does that one brave Dad with a shotgun become a Storm Guard?

Sorry for not answering for so long, I’ve been busy catching up with schoolwork.

I’ll start with the last question: how do people perceive the stormguard?

So that one brave dad had a farm and a family to care for, so he stays there and dies an old man, surrounded by his family. His son though… I have plans for him.

As for the stormguard: The first thing to understand is that nobody wants to be on the stormguard. I don’t think the death rate is as high as 50%, but you can easily die at any moment for no reason other than a dragon was randomly aiming that direction. Captain Flucky and Officer Gwent are rare exceptions.

In Endora, the city doesn’t have a political center, but the city is run by the companies in charge of the ports. So they make sure to hire private ships to be the stormguard. While nobody wants to be that ship, it does pay very well, so usually there’s at least a few crews desperate enough to take the offer, and definitely a couple crazy enough to want it.

In Galras, the stormguard is a branch of the Galrian navy. The difference between Galras and everybody else, is that Galras, as a government, has propaganda on their side. They have hyped up the idea of the stormguard as a noble profession done in service to your country, and to be fair, that much is true. It's kind of like the US doing the “I want YOU to join the army!” during WWII. They just leave out the bad parts. So a lot of people go in thinking that they’re on a glorious mission.

Luckily, the stormguard doesn’t need that many people. So first they go through the academy which needs a name. Lets just call it the Stormguard Academy for now. These are cadets who’ve already been through bootcamp, but they need to strain it more than that. In the Academy they’re tested like never before, to weed out those who are there just for the glory, and those who are there out of a desire to serve their country. As an audiobook my parents listened to once said, “It filters out those who intend to join, and those who only want to.”

That's where they get they’re training. The actual training? Well, every cadet needs a complete knowledge of how the ship works. More than in normal warfare, dragons can strike fast, so you need to be able to understand what's happening and react, no matter what position you occupy. You need a basic knowledge of Tinkering just in order to apply, which is the use of aether to manipulate machines. Then they have you train that, by having you turn gears all day long. Also, long days in the classroom.

Then, training drills. They have a boat suspended in a building, where they can simulate a storm. Flashing lights and things.

Lots of exercise too.

Yeah so if you’ve heard of the things they do at your country’s military academy, which involve exercise, school, and drills… just more of that. And harder.

As for the storms, they don’t form out of the blue. Sometimes you’ll get a normal storm that appears, but that doesn’t contain dragons. A dragon storm has to rise up from the abyss, which is many miles below. People can easily see it coming, but the stormguard is always vigilant. “A long time” can be anywhere from a full day to a few hours.

Meanwhile, in Destra, there’s no government or company to pay a stormguard, so people just don’t live near the coast and hope for the best. They also have shotguns. In the Dwarven Isles, they live underground, so they don’t even have to worry about storms and dragons.

Also, remember Minvir? Minvir is very mountainous, and has lots of caves to hide in, but mostly the people don’t care. They deal with it as another danger. Minvir is already so ridiculously perilous that the dragons aren’t that much worse than everything else. On top of that, they have some ethereal abilities that are unlike everybody else’s. They have ice powers, which they can perform through specially carved weapons, preferably through true metal. That helps them deal with flying creatures.

And… yeah, that's the stormguard, I think!

Thanks, @drippingmoon!

[ace-in-a-shopping-cart]

I Can Hear Your Voice

Summary: Analogical Soulmate AU! Where you can hear your soulmate’s voice no matter how far apart you are. 

Word Count:  1,576

Taglist: (Send an ask to be added or removed!) @starlocked01​​ @spoopy-turtle​​ @lizluvscupcakes​ @far-too-many-fandoms-to-die

Virgil had never met Logan, but loved him with all his heart. Logan had always been there for him, always been with him. The first time he was aware of him was in kindergarten. That was when the teachers told him of soulmates. He was told that the soulmate was just a few words away, they could hear everything you said. That was when he and Logan had been first introduced.

Over time, he got used to having a voice in his head that only he could hear. He also got used to talking aloud more often. Sometimes, he would just hum while he was doing something and Logan would send back an answering hum. Other times, he would sing and Logan would ask what song it was. Most times, he would speak aloud to an empty room and get responses. 

As they grew older, they found times when they needed to be quiet, such as when Logan got into meetings in his career. But there were also times when they would deliberately talk, like when Logan helped Virgil down from an anxiety attack in the middle of a presentation. Sometimes, one would be driving and, instead of playing music, ask the other to read to them.

Virgil found it fun to be Logan’s audiobook, trying to put a voice to each character and a separate voice for the narrator. Logan did the same with him, voice coming alive with numerous accents in order to create a whole world with just his speech.

Today started off as a normal day. Virgil woke up and said a quiet, “Good morning,” to the empty room.

A chuckle sounded in a space that felt like directly behind Virgil but was actually a few hundred miles away. “Are you just now getting up?”

Virgil rolled over, bleary eyes trying to read the clock. “What time is it?”

“For you? Probably about eleven in the morning. By the way, how are we feeling this morning?”

Virgil smiled at the question. “More androgynous right now while leaning toward male.”

“So they/them for now, yes?”

Virgil smiled, grateful their soulmate accepted them as genderfluid. “Yes, please.”

“Alright, starlight. Time to start the day.”

Virgil stretched, releasing an unintelligible sound. “What chapter were we last on?” They asked as they rolled out of bed.

Logan began reading as Virgil went about their morning routine, grabbing the gym bag by the door on their way out and heading to the dance studio. Logan said he had to go into a meeting so had to stop reading and Virgil said goodbye, turning on the music. They  stretched before they began, listening as Logan switched from the tone he used just with them to his business voice. Virgil smiled as they lost themselves in the unique combination of music and Logan’s voice, letting his body flow as a warm-up.

 They lay on the floor, panting as Logan concluded his meeting. There was a smile in his voice as he asked, “Did you have a good session?”

“Yeah, I did, actually. You have a good meeting? You sounded frustrated towards the end.”

Logan sighed as Virgil imagined him running his hand through his hair. “Just people being idiots. Nothing to worry about.” They sat in silence together for a few minutes before Logan spoke again. “So, do we want to talk about last night?”

Virgil laughed, shifting his legs to be more comfortable. “No, I don’t think we do. You know how I can be.”

“Yes, I do. It was also very hard to keep my focus on my work with that going in my head.”

Virgil laughed. “You should have been asleep anyways, Mr. I’m only an hour behind you.”

Logan sighed. “Yes, I also realize that you have insomnia. That does not give you the excuse to rant about the merits of the written word and compare and contrast them to those of the drawn world. Nor does it give you the excuse to almost break into tears over the beauty of them working together to enhance each other.”

Virgil chuckled. “Alright, fair point.”

They stood and began to gather their things, the rest of the day progressing smoothly. The night rolled around, Logan having a lot of things to get done. So, Virgil decided that it would be a good time to practice his singing. Logan chuckled as he started but soon quieted as he focused on the papers he had to go through as Virgil faded into a very welcome background noise.

Finally, Virgil’s voice trailed off as they stared up at the stars and wondered if Logan was seeing the same stars they were, gazing at the same moon. They sighed. “Logan?”

Logan hummed. “Yes, darling?”

They watched an airplane fly by. “Can we pretend that airplanes are shooting stars?”

Logan paused. “Are you okay?”

“I could really use a wish right now.”

“Talk to me, baby. What’s going through that pretty head of yours?”

Virgil sighed. “I’m feeling more male right now.”

“Alright, dear. What’s wrong, my little prince?”

Virgil stood, shutting his blinds before he moved to the couch. “I don’t know. I don’t feel well but know I’m in perfect health, probably better health than you. I wish moments like this would stretch on forever, staying in this peace and serenity.”

“I know just how you feel. Sometimes, I don’t want to leave a moment that I feel safe in. Just wait a bit longer and you will find another safe moment.”

Virgil sighed, flopping onto his back. “I know. I’m just tired of being tired. I want something to change but I don’t know what. I guess I just need to sleep.”

“That’s a good idea. I’ll talk to you in the morning, okay?”

Virgil made a noise of agreement as he headed off to bed.

The next morning, Virgil was feeling feminine so put on a skirt, twirling as she liked the way it felt against her skin. She wandered over to her computer and ate breakfast while searching the symptoms of yesterday on the internet. “Ahhh.” She said.

“What is it?” Logan asked.

“I think I found out why I was feeling so bad yesterday.”

“And what would that be, starlight?”

“I was having an anxiety attack.” She said it casually, as if she were discussing the grocery list.

“Are you feeling any better now?”

“Yes, I  think I am. How are you this fine morning?”

He chuckled. “Busy traveling for work. I’m having to work on moving to a new office so you might hear me muttering at the GPS for a while.”

Virgil laughed. “Would you like an audiobook? I can pick up where we left off yesterday.”

A smile invaded Logan’s voice, a sound Vigil had only ever heard directed at her. “Yes, please. Oh! Before I forget, which gender would you like to be perceived as at the moment?”

Virgil smirked. “Currently female. Leaning a bit toward agender today.”

“How shall I refer to you while agender?”

“You always ask me how I want to be perceived. Whenever I’m agender, I just want to be perceived as a threat.”

Logan laughed. “Alright, princess. A threat you shall be.”

Virgil giggled as she skipped off to get the book they were reading.

The sound of a car passing didn’t usually bother Virgil as they were used to it, living on a semi-busy road as they were. However, the sound of a car stopping outside their house did give them cause for concern. They got up, pausing mid sentence and went to look out the window.

“What’s wrong?” Logan asked, his concern evident.

Virgil paused. “I don’t know. A car just pulled into my driveway and turned off.”

“Isn’t that normal for you? You did say you live on a busy road.”

“It’s normal to hear them pull in, but that’s usually just to turn around. They don’t usually park on my driveway if they are visiting the neighbors.”

Logan chuckled even as the car’s door opened. “I guess the jig is up, as they say.” The man stepping out of the car was tall and well dressed in a neat black suit with a patterned blue tie. He smiled and waved at Virgil, who ducked behind their blinds.

“The person got out of the car and waved at me.”

Logan laughed again, a knock sounding at the door. “How about you answer your door?”

Virgil froze as the information Logan gave finally sank in. “You're actually here?”

“Yes, I am.”

Virgil slid across the floor in their socked feet, fumbling with the lock before throwing the door open.

Logan stared as his eyes traveled the length of Vigil’s body, taking in the bright skirt and socks before going back up to linger just long enough on the band t-shirt to read it. His eyes finally made it back to Virgil’s and he smiled. “You’re gorgeous.” Was all he said.

Virgil threw themselves into his arms, smiling widely. “I can’t believe you’re really here!” Pulling back, they paused. “Were you lying about having to go on a business trip?”

Logan smiled, shaking his head. “No. My company recently opened a branch here and I volunteered to go help out. I also still need a place to stay, so-”

“You can crash here, I don’t mind at all.” Virgil rushed before Logan could finish.

He chuckled, pulling his soulmate closer. “Nothing would make me happier.”