#and I'd be inclined to make those before I tried this one

[birb-tangleblog]

Mother Gothel's Soup from Disney Enchanted Recipes Cookbook!

[callofdudes]

What are you reading?? Part 2

A/N: So... It blew up, I didn't expect that to happen. And most of you wanted a part 2, so I made a part 2. You can find part one here.

CW: Sexual stuff. I don't know what I'm doing

Summary: After the boys find you reading a smut book, they take it upon themselves to tease you. This is the result of the boys teasing you.

After your meeting with Price your interaction with Johnny had sort of been forgotten. You still keep your book close as you walk back to your room for the evening, intent on getting some rest after the long day.

When you step into your room, you are surprised to see Johnny sitting on your bed.

"Hey, this is my room, Johnny."

Johnny hums. "I know." He motions you over and you hesitantly sit next to him. "Still got that book hey?" He snatches it from you.

"Johnny! Give my book back!"

You fight to grab it, pushing him against the bed and reaching for it. He chuckles, having you so close.

"You cheeky little-"

Johnny slips out from under you with the book. "Sorry sweetheart." He grins, his hand coming down and slapping you on the ass, making you gasp in surprise. "You've had your turn with this."

You turn around just as the door closes but you aren't sure what the hell to do. You just stare, blush forming across your face and your heart melts.

Johnny is actually just teasing you, I literally had no endgame for his... I tried to write one though

It was late when you finish your paperwork. You're tired and sore from sitting down all day despite how comfortable your office chairs are.

Finally, you signed the last piece of paper and stood, stretching out your sore muscles.

Now... Time to go try and get your book back from Price. Wouldn't that be a lecture? You hadn't forgotten what he'd said earlier, it made your heart pound in your chest.

You got to his office and knocked on the door. "Captain? Can I come in?"

"It's open."

You opened the door and slipped inside, Price had a cigar in his mouth and was idly sitting there relaxing.

"I uh... I finished my paperwork and I'd like my book back."

Price took a long drag of his cigar and looked at you. He motions you over, so you came. Price contemplates it. "Did you work hard Princess?"

Your insides drop.

"Yes Captain, I finished my paperwork." You try to ignore it but the things it did to you makes you feel utterly filthy.

John's free hand reaches your hip and strokes it with his thumb. He motions you down on his lap. Your heart flutters wildly in your chest. You maneuver to straddle him, all the heat in your stomach plunging further.

Price continues to rub your hip.

"Can't decide if you've been a good girl or not today, reading all those... Things."

You suddenly feel very inclined to make things better. Your heart leaps, leaning in and kissing his neck. "Captain." It comes out strained, trying to keep your breathing together.

Price continues to smoke his cigar as you kiss up his throat and down his collar.

He pulls you back gently and hums. "You've been a very good girl today, we all make mistakes darlin'"

"You've made daddy very happy. I think you deserve a reward."

You whine, that finally doing it too you. "Price!" You bury your head in his neck, hips pivoting and grinding against his thigh.

"Good girl. Tell me what you want sweetheart."

Your breaths come out jagged as you slide down to your knees and tug at his belt. Price chuckles.

He presses out his cigar and undoes his belt for you. You pry open his zipper and kiss along his stomach. Price's hand strokes the back of your head when you pull out his cock.

"That's it," he coos. "take daddy's cock like a good girl."

You whine, kissing his length and taking him in your mouth. His hand curls in your hair, letting you have a moment before gently guiding you down on his length.

He groans deeply, watching you choke when you reach his base. "There you go, such a good girl for daddy."

You come back up, choking on spit. He lights up another cigar while you bob your head down the Captain's length. Price watches you, tangling his fingers in your hair.

He brought you back down all the way and kept you there, watching you choke and swallow harshly. He grins and takes another drag.

Price did not let you leave his office until you had fully earned the rights to your book back in full.

I don't trust myself to write smut guys, I'm sorry if it's weird

Gaz stayed close to your ear as you read. Word after word. You read about each scene, the ideas of the lewd acts leaving an imprint on you.

Gaz's warm hands trailed down your collarbone. You tried to read, your breathing getting heavy.

"And he- Kyle-!"

Kyle kissed your lobe, hands sinking under your shirt. You whined for the touch but Gaz wasn't going to have it. "Keep reading sweetheart."

"Not like this-"

He pinches and twists your nipples. "Read it sweetheart." His tone remains smooth as honey as delicate as a flower, but his actions are commanding, telling you to read.

You gulp and keep reading, even as his hands groped and play, making your insides hurt so good.

You whimpered, shuddering when you flipped the page. Gaz's hands trailed back up your shirt and he rounded the couch. Finally you could see his handsome face in front of you.

"Kyle-"

"I doubt my name is in that book." He kneels in front of you, and you can see the bulge in his pants.

He pushes your knees apart gently with his hands and slowly pulls off your pants. You keep reading, your voice growing shaky and stumbling over words In anticipation of his next move.

Your bottom half completely exposed, Kyle moved forward, sinking two fingers into your cunt.

You gasped and moaned.

"Oh please, please Kyle-"

He slaps you gently, removing his fingers.

Tears start to fill your eyes, trying to read. Just two more pages, just two more pages. But you didn't want it to end.

You recapture your thoughts as much as you can and continue. As you as you start, so does Kyle, sinking in and pressing his tongue between your legs.

You jump, shifting your hips in excitement. Kyle keeps you steady, working you unwound so effortlessly.

You gasp and pant through your words, shaking and moaning loudly. Your thoughts begin to slur together with each stroke of his tongue.

His fingers dip into your entrance again, stretching you nicely around him while his tongue teases your clit with fast flicks.

You manage to finish the chapter and toss the book on the couch. You throw your head back and moan, pressing your hands through Kyle's hair.

"Kyle- more, more, more!!" He brings you undone so effortlessly. You rake your fingers over his scalp, canting your hips up against him in pleasure.

Kyle hums happily, sucking your clit. "Good job sweetheart." He mutters.

Everything feels hot and dizzy when you reach your limit, spasming and coming.

You pant, head heavy and empty. He laps at your spend and kisses your clit, making you jerk your hips.

Kyle kisses up your stomach. "You did so well for me sweetheart." He whispers. "Good girl."

You whimper when he leans over you, your hand coming up to stroke his cheek.

"Now, get comfortable. If you don't come a second time before they get back, I'll let them watch."

You slip into Ghost's room, the darkness making your skin crawl. The barren walls and the simple bed in the corner.

You reach the middle of the room and Ghost was back behind you, guiding you to the wall and pressing himself up against you.

"Should have known you'd come here for more."

His hand strokes your throat, pulling your head back and locking his thumb and forefinger into the sensitive spots under your jaw.

You moan, hands curling into fists against the cold wall.

"Ghost..." You whimper.

He grunts, rutting his hips down against you, holding you perfectly still like a doll. You gasp and fight for air in your lungs, your insides betraying how you should be feeling.

"You into this shit?" He asks, voice raspy against your ear.

"Please, please Ghost-"

He growls and presses you closer to the wall, his hand grabs your hip and arches your back.

Tears fill your eyes and you pull at his hand.

He scoffs. "You are into this shit."

He keeps you pressed against the wall though his hands leave you. You hear his belt buckle click and slide and it makes your heart race.

When he's ready he grabs your arm and turns you around. You look up at him, he grabs your shoulder and forces you down onto your knees.

"Ghost-"

"Shush. I didn't ask you to talk."

Tears slip down your cheeks, you inch closer and take his hard cock in your hand.

He watches you with his usual disapproving look as you take him into your mouth. You barely get halfway before you start to choke.

Ghost grabs the back of your head and forces you down. You choke and grab his thighs for support, more tears in your eyes.

He grunts. "You like this don't you? You and your weird fuckin' books."

You can't reply, trying to take Ghost as best you could.

He tugs your hair, rocking his hips against you. His hands slide down from your hair to your jaw. He cups your jaw and your neck, keeping you still while he uses you.

He went until your jaw was sore and all you could do was moan lazily.

"Fucking whore." He grunts, dragging the saliva on his cock over your bottom lip.

He forced you back up against the wall and wastes no time fingering you. It's not consistent or long, his fingers gone before you can enjoy it. He lines up his cock and is shoving into you. His girth stretches you wide and has you a moaning, melting mess. He shoves you further into the wall and your back arches. It's sloppy and his cock ruins your insides, your thoughts slurring until there was nothing left.

He kept his hand locked on your throat, watching you lose yourself with every thrust.

"Fuck-" he pounds into you, watching you writhe and whimper under him. He stretches you out and fucks you drunk on him.

And he was right, by the end of the night the story you'd read barely compared.

Alejandro came between your legs and stroked your chin. "Quieres tanto esto, ¿verdad? Quieres ser una puta sólo para nosotros."

Your bottom lip wobbles.

Rodolfo moves you out of your seat and forces you down gently onto the floor. You watch Alejandro stand over you, forced down on your hands and knees when Rodolfo leans over you.

He presses his chest to your back, hands groping your chest.

Alejandro undoes his belt and strokes your chin. It's all too much, watching Alejandro and feeling Rodolfo undoing his own gear and pulling down your pants.

"Se ve tan hermoso para nosotros como este." Rodolfo whispers in your ear.

Your heart pounds in your chest.

"Say the word amor, and we're all yours." Alejandro purred.

"Please... Please, yes." You whimper.

Rodolfo's hand pulls down your underwear, pushing two fingers into your entrance. You gasp and moan, arching into it.

Alejandro grabs your chin firmly and presses his cock to your lips. Rodolfo makes you moan, Alejandro fitting his thick girth down your throat.

Tears fill your eyes. Alejandro guides you along his cock while Rodolfo peppers your back in soft kisses, stretching you out nicely.

He is gentle with you, whispering sweet words in your ear and playfully squeezing your breasts.

Alejandro feels heat pool in his stomach watching his best friend treat you like that. "Mm, you gonna let Rodolfo ruin you?? You gonna let him use you amor?"

Your knees shake, hands balling into fists, hungry and eager.

Rodolfo retracts his fingers and lines up to you. He shares a glance with Alejandro before pushing in. It stretches and burns, his girth much thicker than you expected. And it makes you choke down on Alejandro.

They rock you back and forth. The soft front Rodolfo had put up soon gone as he pounds at an unholy pace deep inside of you.

"Fuck yes, letting us ruin you like this." Rodolfo growled. He fit you so nicely inside your walls. You come faster than you'd expected, clenching around Rodolfo and whimpering as you come.

It all went so fast, at some point Rodolfo had picked you up in his arms like you weighed nothing and slammed you down on the desk. Alejandro purring with each rough stroke, Rodolfo rocking you against the desk.

"Mira lo que le has hecho a Alejandro, puta."

Alejandro is a mess, movements frantic and desperate. He has a tight hold on your throat when he finishes, head falling back as he slows.

Rodolfo holds out, making you gasp and moan loudly before he finishes soon after, leaving you a mess. Feeling warm and destroyed.

Alejandro sees the tired hungry glazing over your eyes. He smears the last of his spend across your lips.

"You won't be needing that book back my dear." Alejandro whispers in your ear.

A/N: I don't write smut often, and not for XReaders, but I knew what I was getting into so I did my best to make you a worthy part 2 with the criteria I was comfortable with. It's a bit awkward because it's not a whole fic, but I think it's ok. And I do hope you enjoyed it. Now I'm going to go write something fluffy to reclaim my soul.

[astupidweeb69]

You know x-virus don’t get enough love…. Do you have any head cannons regular or nsfw (maybe both)??

I've been thinking about this guy a lot lately for some reason. Also I've never written for Cody before so hopefully this came out okay.

I was going to work on Toby's but.... I have more inspiration for Cody at the moment. He absolutely doesn't get enough love!

X-Virus Headcannons

SFW

Isn't related to Toby at all. In fact doesn't really look like him either. Sure, he's got the brown hair, but he looks waaay more dorky than Toby does. While Toby has kind of a boy-next-door-from-hell look to him, Cody is more slender and works out less. He looks like your typical STEM student (sickly complexion, poor nutrition, etc.). His whole schtick requires him to stay indoors most of the time, in a make-shift lab.

Has a refrigerated van, which he paid to be converted to safely transport whatever science experiments he's got going on in a temperature-controlled environment.

He tries to stay in one place. He's less of a drifter than most of the other creeps but sometimes... the things he does requires him to uproot his life and start over in another town. (No Cody you can't just infect your landlord with a mutated form of tuberculosis when they raise your rent! There will be consequences!)

Has kind of a nasally voice. I feel like he always has a bit of a cold too.

Ironically has a shitty immune system, and probably drinks those Airborne Immune Support drink mixes like it's his job. Also a germaphobe, wearing medical gloves all the time, and his hands are dry and cracked from overusing sanitizer.

LOVES Re-animator. He's rewatched that movie more times than he can count. But he has a love for science fiction movies in general, with horror elements to them. Like Alien.

Also loves zombie apocalypse movies, but that's an obvious one. Specifically 28 Days Later and World War Z.

Sometimes he's like... should I try to make a zombie virus? nah.... unless...?

I also think he was raised by a single father, who worked for a large pharmaceutical company.

Antisocial. I know Toby and him are compared a lot and people give them similar 'hyperactive' personalities, but I don't see that for Cody at all.

Cody's more focused, and is less inclined to interact with others. He doesn't really get lonely?

I'd say he'd get along okay with someone like EJ (both like science, ya know?).

Toby and him hang out a bit - they'll stay in and watch movies together. Or Cody will tag along with him to a bar and watch as Toby fails to pick up anybody. Cody wouldn't say it to his face, but it makes him feel better about his own social skills to see Toby strike out like that.

NSFW (Under the cut!)

I don't know how he'd find himself in this situation - but if he DID have a partner.... the sex would be kind of bland at first?

He doesn't know what he wants and frankly is too much of a germaphobe to get up close and personal with someone he doesn't know well.

You'd have to spend months getting to know him for him to feel comfortable to engage in anything sexual.

I think at the start of the relationship, he'd want to experiment with voyeurism.

He'd be across the room watching you touch yourself, giving you directions while he slowly strokes his cock, loving the feeling of ordering you around.

But as things escalate, of course, he'd give in to his urges. However, the voyeurism would become how he likes to foreplay.

Out of all the creeps (most of whom I view as being dominant) he's actually pretty tame.

He whimpers a lot, and it sounds almost pathetic when he moans. He's been holding out for so long for the right person, and when he finally gets to fuck he's absolutely drunk off of you.

That said, his sex drive is about average.

One of his roleplay fantasies is him being the experienced scientist, and you being his lovely little assistant.

Probably started after the first time you helped him in his lab.

He just kept thinking of you in a tiny little lab coat, bent over his desk - papers and test tubes falling to the ground while his hips piston into you.

[ryanmarshallryan]

I've been having a lot more people reach out about the vore stories I write, so thought I'd throw it out there if anyone wants to donate to help me have more time to write stories, or likes my style and wants to commission something let me know over dm!

I usually write thinking from a prey perspective, but was feeling hungry after eating salads for a month and switched to pred for this story.

DIET BACKFIRED

I love my weight. I think my belly looks great on me. When I see those old statues of historical figures with dad bods I see myself and love it. But after gaining 25 pounds in a few months from stress, I decided to try out a diet for a bit, just to be cautious of my health. Man, it was hard. And this morning my hunger took control.

I was preparing a salad, heated up some chicken to mix in, sprinkled in some shredded cheese, spinach, lettuce, cucumber, tomato and such. All I could think about was how wonderful it would feel to have a full belly again. Not just feeling satisfied, but pigging out and shoving as much down my maw as possible. Feeling the gainer bug while also trying to diet was not going to work for me. I tore through my cabinet to find an old box of cookies. I opened the box, came to my senses and closed it, then decided I didn’t care and ate the remainder in one sitting. To try to slow myself down and tire out my palette, I tried to eat a bunch of lettuce, but then added a bunch of croutons and snacks without thinking. I still felt hungry, but just left the kitchen to stop myself.

Later, I hung out with my work-out buddy, Max, and vented about my hunger, “I’m still eating a lot! Just replacing chips with a lot of low fat snacks. So if the quantity of food I’m eating is the same, why am I always feeling sooooo hungry? Ugh.”

“Bro, sounds like you need a cheat day. But, hey, if you’re stressed about having too much high fat food, I can help you eat big while still holding back on the chips.”

“Well it can be helpful to sit with the feeling for a while. So if you start feeling hungry, write down exactly what you are craving and what that feels like. By the time you are done writing it out, if you’re still hungry for it… go for it. If the feeling passes, then move on,” Max continued.

“I’m sure we could try it, but I don’t see how much of a difference it’ll make.” I replied. I knew Max worked as some sort of private personal trainer or something on the side, so I felt inclined to believe him, but my stomach was doubtful.

After our workout, we visited a smoothie place and got large chocolate banana protein smoothies (after writing out what I was craving and waiting a moment before deciding to go through with it). I sucked mine down so fast I got a mild brain freeze.

“So how are you feeling? Hungry for another one?” Max asked, playfully placing a hand on my gut and giving it a quick rub.

“Ugh, I would totally go for a burger and fries right now… no, onion rings… actually both,” I replied, as Max handed me a notepad and pen. I wrote down the menu in my mind and thought about how it can be nice to feel so full without another care in the world.

“It’s been a few minutes… still hungry?” Max said with a sly smile.

“What do you think?” I asked him, lifting my gym shirt up to reveal my hairy belly, which gave a perfectly timed gurgle.

Max drove to my favorite burger joint and ordered a few meals and insisted on paying “This is my idea, don’t worry about it… for science!”

After downing two large burgers, a full bag of onion rings and a couple sides of fries, plus an apple that came with Max’s meal that he was too full to finish, I sat with my gut extended out in front of me.

Max leaned over to me, pulled my shirt up over my belly and patted it with his closed fist as if knocking at a door, “So how are you doing, hungry guy?” He put his ear to my side and listened intently to the stomach gurgles, occasionally making sounds of “Mmm,” “Yes, I see,” “Interesting.” I couldn’t help but burst out laughing at the absurdity of Max speaking to my belly.

“What’s so funny about listening to your gut? Intuitive eating is no joke,” Max said with a joking smile, “What is your stomach telling you?”

I thought for a moment, grabbed the notepad and wrote down ‘Though I should be full and done eating… Ice cream would hit the spot right now… Surely that would fill me up, and fill the void the low fat snacks have opened.’ I handed Max the written note.

Max looked from my belly to my eyes with a poker face, “I know just the place.”

In a few minutes we rolled up to Max’s apartment. Inside he pulled out some pints of cookies and cream ice cream and some mint chocolate chip. He handed me a spoon and opened the containers and sat across from me.

“Do you want me to get a bowl?” I asked.

“Nah. Try to intuitively eat. Just eat until your body feels done.”

“So… eat until there’s a nationwide ice cream shortage?”

Max threw his head back laughing, “If we get to that point, maybe we’ll pivot to a new tactic, but for now, feel free to eat as much as you want.” He looked endearingly into my eyes, and I felt my gut rumble, whether by digestion or hunger, or both, I couldn’t discern.

As I scooped down ice cream, we chatted about hunger, about scarcity mindset when it comes to food, and he told me some interesting facts about digestion and how to make room in one's stomach faster than normal by laying on the left side.

“Is this the stuff people need to know for your personal training work and such?” I asked.

“Personal training stuff?” Max gave a look of puzzlement then laughed, “I think I said that sarcastically a while back. A few guys pay me to help them gain weight and eat big. So sort of a personal trainer, but kind of the opposite effect that most would expect.”

“Ohhh, this tactic makes a bit more sense now,” I replied, continuing to eat the ice cream.

“Well, I thought if I encouraged you to experience the ability to eat as much as you want without restriction, you’ll realize that you don’t have to eat everything. It sounds like you are always hungry, because you are always denying that you want food.”

“Hmm, I suppose that’s true,” I went to scoop up more ice cream then realized I’d eaten all of it.

“How are you feeling?” Max asked, rubbing the top of my belly.

I felt a grumble deep in my stomach.”I can definitely feel my belly full of food, but I also could definitely do the whole thing all over again.”

Max considered me for a moment, then started listing off some random digestion facts again. He put his head on my stomach again, lifted my shirt off my body, listened again, took his hands and gently opened my mouth wide and peered down my throat, until I started laughing and he couldn't hold my mouth open.

“What are you doing? You think my stomach is gonna speak back to you in English?” I joked.

“No… but I wonder if I could better understand your hunger if I could better see inside your gut. Hmmm, maybe even just peering down your esophagus…”

“Don’t you need a fancy scope for that or something?”

“Not if you’re willing to relax your throat for a moment…” Max said. I shrugged, and he straddled my lap and shoved his head into my mouth. I could feel his energetic breathing against my tongue and wondered how on earth he could see anything down my throat with his head blocking light from the outside.

I heard a muffled “I’d like to see a bit further…” and felt him push his whole body forward into me. His shoulders shoved their way into my maw and stretched my jaw wide like an opera singer. I choked a little bit feeling his scratchy hair make contact with my uvula and the bottom of my tongue. I reflexively closed my lips over his skin and swallowed as the hair and breath tickled my maw. I realized that my peristalsis must have taken a bit of control, because I was surprised to see that I was looking down at his lower back with his arms pinned to his sides. I felt his nipples and pectoral muscles sliding against my tongue and felt his head squeezed tightly through my lower esophagus. What was going on? Though the sensation was filling me with dopamine and adrenaline, I realized that somehow my body was getting ready to eat a whole human, so I mentally prepared myself to try and regurgitate him. But instead I felt him force himself deeper into my throat, as his feet pushed off against the floor, and his upper torso wriggled and squirmed to slide deeper into me. I felt a sloshing in my gut, and heard a muffled intake of air and the continuation of more digestion facts being spewed out of Max’s ever curious mind obsessed with digestion.

Since Max seemed so intent on getting inside my stomach, and I knew I would need to breathe soon, I decided to help him out. I lifted his legs up over my head and felt gravity pulling him down my throat. I pulled his gym shorts and such off him and felt the interesting texture of his little belly over his abs, mixed with gym sweat and belly hair, felt past his hard on and groin, and his thick thighs as they all passed over my tongue and against my soft palate. My stomach finally began to feel full, as it sloshed with its soupy contents of dinner encasing Max’s squirming upper body. I knew Max’s hands had been freed from the tight grip of my esophagus as my inner stomach felt a peculiar tickling sensation with Max rubbing it from the inside. I felt him poke around and heard his muffled casual observations about my stomach.

I felt Max’s muscles seize up as he put his legs together tightly and let them slide easily down my throat. I felt his cold feet tickle my tongue, uvula and esophagus until they finally plopped into my stomach and I felt my throat open enough for me to exhale and breathe in more oxygen finally.

I took a few moments to gather my thoughts and catch my breath, feeling Max move around and curl up into a ball inside my tight stomach. I looked down to see the bulge his head made toward the top of my belly, with other odd bumps sticking out that I assumed were his knees and feet pressing up against my stomach walls. I felt his clammy hands push up against my stomach as he surveyed his new situation.

“Max, I forgot to write this craving down first.” I said, jokingly.

“Don’t worry I already did!” I heard him shout back, hearing it almost come up through my own throat. I stared in confusion at the opened notepad next to me and flipped to the last written note that read ‘Ice cream and everything else isn’t satisfying enough. Maybe eating me will do the trick. - Max’

My belly gurgled in surprise, “You planned for me to eat you?”

“I did shove myself down your throat, didn’t I?”

“But why would you -”

“Hey you didn’t try and stop me, bud,” he replied. I felt a pat against my belly, and shivered a little bit.

“Yeah, but I thought you just wanted to glance inside, but you wriggled in deeper!”

“Are you mad that I did?” Max asked. I felt him shifting his weight inside my gut and resting into me.

I considered the events of the night. I had really craved a day to just eat all I wanted, and Max gave all that to me and more. Even though I definitely didn’t expect him to force his way onto the menu, my belly felt much more satiated than it had been. “... I’m not mad at you… just want to make sure you know what you’re getting into… but I do have a confession.”

“What is it?” Max asked, shifting around and pressing his head up against the place where my hand was resting on my belly.

“I could go for some orange sherbert right now… I think your diet tactic failed.” My stomach added a large grumble and groan in agreement.

“Failed for you, maybe. But I’m cozy!” Max tried to stretch out a bit and I watched my stomach bulges shift in a funny manner, and felt my belly tighten and knead Max in response. “Plus, I think I figured out why you’ve been so hungry lately.”

“And what have you discovered?”

“That you should have eaten me ages ago! Once I’m digested into belly fat you’ll have more energy stored in your cells for longer, so you won’t be as hungry all the time! It’s simple science,” Max replied matter of factly.

“I’m not sure that science is sound, but as long as you’re happy, I’m fat and happy.”

“If you don’t think the science is sound, maybe you ought to repeat the experiment. Have a cheat day every once in a while,” Max replied, as he curled into a tight ball again and let my stomach relax and get to work over him. “I know I’ve been seeing that cute guy at the gym drooling over your gut, you know, the one who always wears that green hat? I’m sure he’d love to be a part of your next cheat day once you’ve had enough of your salads and diet again.”

I enjoyed the peace of feeling Max getting comfortable deep in my gut. I took deep breaths and felt my diaphragm move Max around slightly as my chest expanded and contracted. “Maybe I’ll ask him. But I’ll leave it up to him whether he wants to take it as far as you did tonight.” I rubbed my belly and stared, mesmerized at the lumpy spots on my belly indicating Max’s body relaxing against my stomach walls. I felt his heartbeat in polyrhythm against mine, with his breathing patterns tickling my stomach walls. I tasted the lasting flavors of his skin on my tongue, mixed with ice cream and other sustenance I had downed throughout the evening. Good thing we worked out first, to balance out this sharp intake in calories. So I suppose even if I had a cheat day from my diet, eating a whole human balances out to be healthy, right?

[bo0tleg]

Maverick and Rooster aren't going to be able to immediately fall back to what they were. They care for each other deeply, and saved each others life on the mission, but this sort of shit needs time. One conversation isn't going to cut it with those two.

Look: I like the idea of them falling back into what they were before just as much as the next person, but that's.... not what realistically would happen. And that's ok! It makes sense for them not to know what to do with each other at the start.

For the record: I'm also not blaming anyone for writing fics about them immediately going back to the father-son or uncle-nephew dynamic because, because come on. It's cute as HECK! I'd just like to think about how to explore their feelings and hang-ups about each other in dept!

They're both stubborn fucks and this has been simmering for far too long for anything to be resolved instantly with a single conversation. Bradley un-learned how to talk honestly to people the day he left, and Mav's scared about what honesty can bring. They've sat on this pot for so long they no longer feel it burning their asses, and forgot what they put in the damn thing in the first place, so they stay there. On top of it. Still burning their asses.

Bradley holds onto grudges like it's a lifeline, and one mission isn't going to change that. He listened to Mav in the canyon because he rescinded what he had said with his actions. Mav said that he 'wasn't ready' but then chose Rooster as his wingman, communicating that he is ready and that he trusts him with his life. But that was a life or death situation that Rooster was both present in and could interfere in if he so chose. He saved Mav because he didn't want him to die, and they seem more inclined to deal with it back on the boat, but it's still a long road ahead.

What happened was they rekindled their care for each other, because neither had ever truly given up on it in the first place. Mav never stopped caring and knew it, Bradley did the same without knowing. This just so happens to be the first time they're forced to deal with each other since the fallout.

Just because they care about each other doesn't erase the history that's separated them for all of this time. In fact, it probably makes it worse.

Bradley thought highly of Mav, and he didn't live up to it. Mav wanted the best for Bradley, and did what he thought would be best. Their problems came from the root of care. And it's more bittersweet because of it.

Because of it, resentment and guilt have settled over their shoulders, respectively, and it refused to go away.

They talk, and they try, but it's still not great.

Mav is inclined to just sweep it all under a rug and ignore the lump it forms on the floor. Because of his guilt, he takes all of the blame and sugarcoats Bradley's part in said blame to try and make up for it. Bradley is just as fault as Mav is, but Mav doesn't want to look a gift horse in the mouth.

So instead of fixing things, they look slightly less crooked, but not entirely right. It's a 'their problem' not 'his problem'. They're both at fault, and they both need to deal with it.

Maverick refuses to give up any of the blame, and Bradley is going to refuse to take any of it.

Sure, Mav fucked up, but Bradley blew it out of proportions. Storming off and refusing to talk is a normal response, but not for fifteen years. He barely let Mav explain himself.

Everything "wrong" about himself he blames on Mav. He thinks that Mav fucked him up by breaking his trust as his father figure, so he doesn't trust anybody anymore. He thinks that him being completely emotionally stunted and sensitive to critique is Mav's fault because of the 'your not ready' comment.

Thing is, it's his own fault. It's his fault that he's been fucked up for so long because he never tried to fix what was broken. It's not Bradley's fault that Mav pulled his papers, but he threw away everything, everyone he had before because of a single (justifiable!) mistake. And he doesn't recognize it for what it is, and refuses the blame. Carting it all off to Mav instead of dealing with his own shortcomings.

Mav is aware of this (that Rooster refuses to take the blame), but agreed with Rooster in his analysis of the situation, and takes it all on himself, which is not a healthy mechanism for either of them. It pats Rooster on the head for somewhere he fucked up on, and overloads Mav with guilt that shouldn't be that intense and deep.

But they don't know this. So Mav isn't angry at Rooster, because he's blindsighted by his care.

Thing is, I want someone to be angry. I want someone to be offended on Mav's behalf because he himself won't do it. I don't know who it would be, could be a good number of people, maybe even a child OC.

For fifteen years Bradley left without looking back. He left, and Mav suffered. Someone saw that. Someone was there with him all or most of those years, sitting right beside him as his guilt grew with every holiday that went by, with every letter or call left unanswered.

The obvious option is Ice. However, I want to pull away from that option, because if Ice is dead (stay with me now) it only creates more conflict, more nuance to what's going on.

Bradley cut Mav out of his life, and it's implied that he cut out any association with him too. That includes Ice.

What if he never spoke to Ice either for those fifteen years? Ice died. Bradley went to his funeral. Bradley went to his funeral as a fellow aviator, as an underling obeying orders.

Bradley's face in that funeral was blank.

That is the face of a man watching the burial of someone he once could potentially have considered a father figure that he hadn't spoken with for fifteen years. And he's never going to be able to speak to him again.

At that funeral, I don't think he regretted it. Sad, maybe, but no regret.

The regret only hit later.

He got to mend things with Mav after the Uranium Mission and beyond, but that is no longer possible with Ice.

Bradley regretted what he did, how he neglected them for years, but he regretted it too late for one of them.

I think Brad probably ended up at Ice's grave at some point, and owned up to everything he didn't– couldn't– own up to at the funeral. And he fucking sobbed. Begged. Apologized, over and over.

This is the reason I suggested maybe a child OC, because if the child is Icemav's or just Ice's, Bradley's gonna have a warped perception of them. (Note: When I say "child" I mean that it was their child as in gender neutral for son/daughter, it doesn't necessarily mean the person in question should be an actual kid.)

Bradley's gonna see that kid as penance.

And they're gonna fucking hate him for it.

Bradley is going to look at them and see Ice, and they're gonna hate him for it. Their father is dead, and for the last fifteen years of his life he'd never been truly happy because this prick never bothered to own up to his mistakes. Not even at the funeral Bradley owned up to his shortcomings, and now all of a sudden he waltzes right back like he never left? What the fuck!

Bradley could have done this, idk like a week sooner? But he only came to his senses after Ice died. Their father died and Bradley barely looked like he cared is what they're going to think. But all of a sudden, he goes on a suicide mission and almost died and he's suddenly back? Because when his own life is in danger he changes his mind, but when Ice died he couldn't care less? What the fuck!

That man went to that funeral as a subordinate, not as the son he was.

The kid doesn't have the tinted lenses Mav has on about Bradley. All the resentment Mav doesn't feel, this kid is going to feel for him.

Bradley is going to understand their resentment because of Ice, and is going to focus on fixing that part with them, without noticing that the resentment isn't just because of Ice, it's about Mav too.

The kid is going to be pissed because they are not Ice. Bradley is going to be too worried about making it up to a dead man through his child that he's going to neglect the very much still alive man he ALSO has to make amends with.

But Ice didn't have a direct hand in pulling his papers, so Bradley understands his mistake with him (he shouldn't have cut him out over someone else's mistake). Mav, however, did have a direct hand and he's still bitter about it. And the kid sees it. They see him doing exactly that.

Bradley is focusing on the wrong thing, because he's trying to redeem himself in an impossible way, trying to answer to someone who no longer demands it.

He goes after it because the silence is a more comfortable answer than the conflict he's bound to face from someone who's still alive.

In the process, he's going to hurt Mav.

Bradley's gonna be so caught up in making it up to Ice (the one he can no longer make up to) that he doesn't think to properly make it up to Mav (the one he can still make it up to) because he thinks he has to.

Ice is gone. Ice is gone and there's nothing he can do about it. And If he'd just changed his mind earlier maybe there could have been. Admittedly, Ice still would have died, but maybe he'd have died more settled than he did. He'd have died with the knowledge that his son came back. That his son still cared. But he didn't, and Bradley hates himself for it.

So, he veers to the kid. He doesn't outright apologize other than the first time, but he's gonna treat them like either a piece of glass or a carbon copy of his father figure. Regardless, they're going to hate him for it.

It's not them he cares for, it's what he sees them as. They can see straight through his bullshit because there's no deep emotional connection there to blind them.

They could try to care and love for him for Mav's sake, but it'd be much better if it were on their own terms, that Bradley would care for them as them and not as Ice's child.

On top of that, the neglect Bradley has for Mav is humongous. And he himself doesn't see it because the resentment he feels is still there. Mav was the one who pulled his papers. He blames Mav for his own decisions.

He's alone, and he blames Mav. He doesn't let anyone in or near, and he blames Mav. But it wasn't Mav that made him shut everyone out, he did that on his own.

He hasn't thought about why Mav did what he did, choosing to believe what Mav claimed to be the reason. It's blatantly obvious that Pete 'Maverick' Mitchell of all people would never stop someone from going to the Academy because he thought they aren't capable. That's what they did to him, he's not going to do that to someone who is virtually his son.

Bradley was irrational and stuck to that irrationality for fifteen years. He used the emotional stuntedness he himself created as a guise to not actually process what happened. He refused to think about it, and still does.

He and Mav reconnected after the mission, but it's a frail margin. Bradley was more inclined to listen because he's confused that Mav cares at all. In his rage, he didn't notice that he did it out of love, and doesn't know what to do with it. The entire training, he's confused, pissed and uncertain all the while.

He still doesn't know the real reason Mav did what he did, and doesn't understand the love he still sees in his eyes. Rooster thought that he shattered everything he had with Mav when he felt, most of all cemented it with all the time spent in that state.

By the end of the movie, he knows for certain that Mav loves him, and understands that he, himself, never stopped loving Mav either, despite what he claimed.

Bradley wanted to be a pilot because of his dad. Goose wasn't a pilot. Maverick was.

The betrayal hit him harder because he wasn't running after Goose, he was looking up to Mav. He wanted to be like Mav.

And he became a pilot, even when Mav pulled his papers, even after having the person he did it all for ripped him into shreds. He still did it.

He still wanted to be like Mav. Deep down, he still saw him as a role model even through all of the repression.

But he still doesn't know why. He doesn't know why Mav did what he did, because Maverick himself refused to say why.

Mav isn't going to be doing great either. He fucked up, and he fucked up big time. He shouldn't have pulled Bradley's papers, period. I know about Carole, but still. He should have communicated with Brad about it, and they'd fight about it, but Bradley wouldn't have walked out to never return then.

To worsen matters, Maverick has a horrendous martyr complex that makes him take the brunt of Bradley's resentment instead of Carole, the actual perpetrator.

Over the years, he's blamed himself more and more every year that passed, but I don't believe he ever regretted it.

He fulfilled Carole's last wish. It didn't stop Rooster from becoming a pilot. He gave both of them what they wanted.

But he's trying to protect the Carole Bradley has in his head because he doesn't want to stain his memory of her as he did with himself. This has been discussed a hundred times over, so I will try to be brief.

Mav is scared that instead of him, Bradley's gonna resent his mother. His dying, cripple mother that said that in her death bed. His widow mother who saw her husband die in the skies and didn't want her baby boy to have the same fate. His sorrowful mother that had to watch her friend, someone she considered a little brother, keep going up into those same skies and hear all the whispers the people on the ground flung upon him because of it.

So he took it all on himself. Because he sees himself as expendable in favor of her.

So, safe to say he's not going to be the one to tell Bradley the truth. Because of it, Bradley's resentment is going to continue to fester.

After the mission, Bradley knows that Mav's not telling him everything, but he refuses to talk about it so what the hell is he going to do?

They fix things well enough for them to talk to each other, but don't make it too deep in fear of opening up more wounds instead of stitching the old ones back together.

Mav thinks this is as good as he can get. Bradley is annoyed at Mav's hesitance.

Despite mending things, Bradley is still going to think all of his problems are Mav's fault. And he's a petty bitch, so he won't let it slide.

He hasn't properly processed it due to the lack of information, and can't let go because of it.

He's going to slip in dry comments about how Mav affected his mental health and life because of what he did. He's going to be cagey about everything that happened in the in between. He's not going to know basic shit about Mavericks life because he refuses to acknowledge that he was wrong in more than one way.

And Mav's gonna fucking take it.

He's not gonna say anything, not gonna even defend himself because he thinks he deserves it.

Bradley is a stubborn fuck whose pride has been hurt once, and refuses to acknowledge that it could be hurt again. He's just like Mav when he was younger, but ten times worse in the emotional department (I have no fucking idea how he managed that, but he did).

So yeah, soon enough they're going to be balls deep in miscommunication with grudges held close to their chest.

Maverick wants to communicate but doesn't want to communicate a very important piece of information that could potentially make things better and Bradley straight up doesn't want to if he doesn't have to.

Which means they're going to come to a stand-still. And someone is gonna have to interfere.

If I were to guess, it'd either be Slider or Sarah (Kazansky). Regardless if Sarah is Ice's sister or wife (up to interpretation), she knew how important Mav was to Ice and obviously cares about him too from the few scenes we got of her. Slider also knows, and it's obvious he also genuinely cares about Mav too despite claiming otherwise.

I'd honestly vote for Slider to be the one to do it, simply because he'd also see the Ice favoritism and the Mav neglect, and would pull Bradley's ear about it to hell and back. Because he also knew Goose, and this... entire thing is not something Goose would be happy about, at all. Slider has a much more subdued connection to Bradley, so he'd have no qualms about calling him out on everything.

Especially if he ever found out that Bradley said 'My dad trusted you, I'm not going to make the same mistake.' I sorely believe Slider would end up in jail if he ever heard about that one.

If Sarah were the one to do it, she'd probably be more understanding and much less violent than Slider, but she'd be blunt. That's still someone she cares deeply for they're talking about, and she also saw all of it. She wouldn't sugar coat what needs to be said, but she'd be understanding too. Not you did nothing wrong kind of understanding, but a you had your reasons to be upset kind of understanding.

Either of them would probably do this without Maverick's consent, because that's the only way to get it done.

When Bradley finally comes to know exactly why Mav did what he did, he's gonna be in shambles. Not only for Mav, but for himself.

His entire life has been built around that single happenstance and now it's gone, he was wrong. He was so wrong. He can't go back to being the way he was, he doesn't remember how he was.

He's gonna have to start over, rebuild himself from the ground up to be someone better and spare everyone in his life the suffering. Everyone in his life has suffered the consequences of his resentment. He doesn't know if he can make up for it.

To start over, step number one is apologize.

This right here is were he finally lets his ego drop, and fully apologizes to Mav. Finally owns up to his mistakes to the person that deserves it most. He's not gonna leave Mav be, he's definitely going to demand a full explanation from him and then is going to scold him for it, but he's gonna finally fully let go of the grudge he held this entire time.

That's to say, everything isn't a sea of roses.

Maverick isn't the only person he needs to apologize to, and on top of it, Maverick is probably the only one who is going to let him down easy.

Bradley is going to be on a tight leash with everybody else for a while, and they don't have any hold ups about calling him out on his bullshit. He's going to need to learn how to take critique to improve himself rather than read it as a straight up insult that he's going to get mad about.

Maverick is going to need to learn that Bradley isn't going to up and leave, and that he shouldn't hold himself to such low standards. Not only that, he's also going to need to learn that Bradley is bound to make mistakes just like any other human.

Bradley is still gonna fuck up in some places, but he's gonna be better at recognizing it. Mav's also gonna fuck up sometimes, but he's going to get better at accepting it and moving on.

With time, Mav is going to call Bradley out on his bullshit too, and Bradley is going to do the same when Mav starts doing his 'I'm less important than other people' shit.

They're going to be sad about it because they think that the reason the other does some of the things they do is because of themselves, but that's a story for another time.

They try. That's what matters.

[kenphobia]

HEART STUTTER!

"you're the absolute most."

summary. wally headcanons with a gender-neutral who isn't good at talking, uses vague wording and confuses smiliar sounding words with each other. ( headcanons / rewritten / see end notes)

contents. fluff i think. possibly ooc too. barnaby teasing the heck out of wally. take the L, wallace, take it.

✦ Wally finds it oddly charming, for some inexplicable reason. He tries his best to understand you and somehow he knows what you're trying to say better than you could. He does let you explain for yourself, but once you turn to him with those pitiful eyes of yours, he couldn't help but finish your words for you.

✦ In some way, Wally understands how you feel. He is a charming little puppet but even so, he slurs his speech a lot which at times make him sound drunk and inaudible.

✦ Whenever you misuse and confuse words, Wally will use context clues to figure out what you're saying. To him, it's like a little puzzle game and he enjoys it very much. He does wonder how you can say typos out loud, concerning but he eats with his eyes so he can't complain.

✦ He'll always reassure you that your speech is fine and that you can take your time figuring what to say. You look better smiling than with your brows creased like that, so cheer up!

✦ Out of all of the neighbors, he understands you the most. You could refer to food as "Biting things" and he'll fetch some for you instantly, he makes a few mistakes at times and he apologizes deeply. Wally doesn't like making assumptions, especially if those assumptions makes you upset at yourself.

✦ Wally could pick up your vague wording the more he spends time with you. He wouldn't notice it until Barnaby mention it.

"And so, (Name) and I went to fetch the things from Poppy's place before coming to meet you all here." Wally vaguely gestured to the food laid on the picnic blanket underneath them, his eyes drifting you chatting and helping Julie fly her kite.

The larger puppet nodded his head, smiling almost teasingly. Wally quirked a brow at Barnaby's sudden weird attitude.

"Is there a problem, Barnaby?" Wally questioned.

"Oh no, it's nothing." Barnaby shrugged, taking his tobacco pipe from his mouth and into his large paw. He glanced over to you and Julie before turning back to Wally. "So, you and (Name), huh?"

"... Yes, we are an item, Barnaby. Is there something wrong?"

"Nope! It's just that you're so in love with them that you're already copying them." Barnaby chuckled. He took a breath in and blew out from his pipe.

"I'm—" Wally paused, his brows furrowed. "I don't think I follow what you mean, Barnaby. I do love them, in fact I am madly captivated by them, but I don't think I'd be so inclined to do the same things as they do."

"Oh yeah?" Wally raised a jesting brow. "Then, tell me what you were doing before the picnic." He gestured to the picnic set before the two of them.

"Well, that's easy!" Wally clapped his hands joyfully. "I woke up, finished some evenings, no, paintings! Yes, those things. Then, um, I met up with you all to talk about things and after cat— that! I went with (Name) to get the stuff from Poppy's and— Oh good lord."

Barnaby letted out a roaring of laughter and patted Wally's back. "You see what I mean now?"

Wally nodded silently, dumbfounded by how oblivious he was towards his speech. He was usually self-aware, watchful and cautious about the way he acts yet he managed you fumble over his words. Right in front of his best friend too.

"I guess they got your tongue tied?"

"Barnaby, kindly shut up for once."

author's note. i amr ushing, I am RUSHING!!!! this was requested by @ssvv-cc but i accidentally answered their ask with the wrong contents and i deleted it so um terribly sorry :')) i might upload the last one but for now, let me cry in shame

again, my requests are always open. do note that im not a welcome home writer but i do writer many other things <33 /nm

[lucifer-is-a-bag-of-dicks]

when I took a month off work I was lowkey worried I'd come back and find everyone had been fine without me and I wasn't needed at all (because being terrible at every previous job I've had did some ✨damage✨ to my self confidence)

but that is not what happened

I have never encountered someone so fucking happy to see me as my boss' wife was on my first day back, her face lit up like it was christmas, she was practically jumping for joy because now that I'm back she doesn't have to do the ops team's fucking timesheets anymore

I have been told by one of the ops guys that my leave of absence had caused a genuine rift in the boss' marriage because his wife hated doing my job so much they were actively fighting about it

to be clear, his wife is lovely, she doesn't usually throw a shit fit about just anything, it was just that my job is just so fucking annoying that she hated every second of it, and that was the most validating shit I have ever experienced in my LIFE

and the reason she was pissed off at my boss/her husband about it is because he's too soft on his crew and doesn't make them all report their hours for the week

which, as you can imagine, makes building their timesheets extremely fucking difficult

it basically turns the whole process into a puzzle that I have to solve using roughly three different sources of information, one of which is the boss himself who isn't always easy to get ahold of when he's on a site

this puzzle is made even more difficult by the fact that a glitch in our form system keeps messing up the dates on the timecards, so I have to cross reference the time cards from the two (2) ops team members, who actually DO fill out their forms, with the roster, but my boss often changes the roster at the last minute without telling me or noting it down, so then I have to cross reference with the reports they have to submit for certain ongoing jobs because they'll have correct dates and also a list of who was present (if they were doing one off smalltime jobs that week I'll have no physical records and will rely entirely on the boss' memory to confirm dates and staff numbers, unless I can get ahold of one of the ops team members themselves and there's only one who will reliably communicate with me but only when he's not currently on a site)

I tried to explain this process to boss' wife before I left and, looking horrified, she asked me 'is there no way to streamline this?' I replied 'this is streamlined'

as far as I'm aware, as long as I've worked there, there has only been a handful of times people were paid incorrectly, and it was because I was not given correct information by the boss, in the time I was gone, his wife told me that she had incorrectly logged several pays because of this broken ass system

so, as you could imagine, my ego is through the fucking roof right now, I am GOOD at this bullshit job, I took an impossible system and made it work, I am playing on hard mode and killing it, in a field I had zero experience in before taking this job other than a natural inclination for organising and scheduling

and to be clear, I love this job, the boss is too soft on his staff but he's a good guy, he makes us all feel valued and appreciated, he paid me above my award rate, he's absurdly accommodating, and I have an insane amount of freedom to do what I want with company files

I may be working with a bullshit system but I can take naps in the office whenever I want and tell my boss off when he's being too soft (one time his wife literally started clapping when I told him off for sending clients their reports before they'd paid for them) and I get to control when I work, and whether I work from home or the office (which is GREAT when my back flares up)

I might not get many hours (only 16 hours per week) because the company is so small and I run out of things to do because I've streamlined everything (boss literally called me TOO EFFICIENT), but he'll give me those 16 even if I spend half of it playing solitaire and watching youtube

so just, yeah, it feels so good to be confident in my work, to feel valued and appreciated and like I'm actually successful at something after being handed dud jobs for years that I wasn't cut out for, and now knowing that what I'm doing is actually genuinely hard but I've been doing it anyway without fail, makes me feel good!

so tldr; taking a month off work taught me I have phenomenal job security because if my boss ever fires me his wife might actually fucking kill him

[hold-him-down]

🤝 - Some help performing a basic task

✥ I Got Something For You ✥

Trigger warnings: semi-explicit noncon. 18+ only.

Notes: 2-ish months into West Peterson.

✥ ✥ ✥

When the doorbell rang, and Mr. Peterson inclined his head toward Leo, that should have been the first warning. The, “I got something for you,” should have been the second. Neither, though, prepares Leo for who greets him on the other side. When Leo opens the door to find a man, no older than he is, with short black hair and deep, charcoal eyes, wearing a Department of Labor Services branded t-shirt staring at him, there’s only a brief moment of confusion before the pieces fall into place.

✥ ✥ ✥ 

[Weeks Earlier]

“Come over here,” Mr. Peterson calls to him one night, abrupt but not exactly unexpected. Leo finishes the plate he is cleaning and sets it aside. He dries his hands, unrolls the sleeves to his crisp black button-down, pours himself a glass of wine, and makes his way over to the older man who currently holds his contract. 

He sits down cautiously, and Mr. Peterson offers him a genuine smile. “I'm– I'm just going to cut to the chase, Leo. I’ve been giving this some thought..." He reaches for his tablet and turns it on. “Now that you’ve been here for a few months, and you know– well, you know how fond of you I am,” he continues.

Leo returns the smile and nods, mouthing a soft, 'thank you,' to be on the safe side.

“I just have been thinking it’s too much for one person,” Mr. Peterson continues. Leo takes a breath, his eyebrows rising. “All of this. And, not just that. But they said, uh–” He runs his hand over the back of his neck and takes a long sip of his scotch. “Well, they said you like interacting with your peers. That you crave companionship. Something like that.”

A silence buds, and so Leo, eager to prevent the void from growing uncomfortable, says, “I suppose neither of those things are untrue.”

“Great. So I've– I’ve been thinking it has to be hard on you. When I’m away, or when I’m otherwise occupied. I thought it might be nice to… I don’t know, procure you a… a companion. To help keep you sharp, and uh– to help keep you happy, I guess,” he finishes. 

Leo swallows, tilting his head to one side, as Mr. Peterson turns his tablet so he can see the screen.

“I know that some might think of this as some type of perversion of justice,” he continues, immune to Leo’s curiosity shifting into something more tense. Leo takes a long sip of wine, peering at the screen. “I asked the director at Greenwood to pull a few options for us." Leo's jaw drops. "Before you say anything,” Mr. Peterson adds quickly, “I want you to know that I’m doing this as much for me as I am for you, and I don't... I'm not asking you for permission here, or for your blessing. I think it’ll be good for you to have someone here, but it’ll also be good for me.

"All that said, I do want your input." Mr. Peterson shows him the picture of a worker, and Leo forces himself to remain neutral, if for no other reason than to disguise his discomfort. At seeing this. At getting his first glimpse into this side of things.

“I don’t need you to make any type of final decision about the suitability of these boys,” Mr. Peterson continues. “My attorneys will review their files and ultimately determine if they’re a good match to my, and by extension, your needs. But I’d like to give you the opportunity to veto any, or if you feel strongly attached to any, I’d like to know that, too. Ideally, I'd like to find someone we both find attractive, and someone who may hold your interest through the duration of your contract.”

The evening is spent scrolling through the pictures of seventeen workers, with Leo mostly silent, entirely focused on keeping himself calm, and Mr. Peterson running a verbal pros and cons list for each one. Occasionally, he requires commentary from Leo, and in these instances, as subtly as he can, Leo tries remind him of their humanity. And all through it, Leo actively avoids thinking about the last time Mr. Peterson did this, about his own image appearing on the screen. What he had said then, with whom he had reviewed these files. Inevitably, those thoughts do creep in, but Leo shuts them down as quickly as he can.

And when Mr. Peterson closes the last of the files, glancing finally at a stunned silent Leo, and then, perhaps because he notices something in Leo's expression, excuses himself to bed, Leo finishes his wine in silence and promises himself he will not think about this night. Ever again.

✥ ✥ ✥ 

“Oh,” Leo says now, opening the front door wider. He shakes his head in a kind of detached disbelief, then steps aside, turning in time to see Mr. Peterson making his way to the foyer. “Mr. Peters–”

“You must be Will,” Mr. Peterson says, and Leo, in that moment, wishes he could be anywhere but in this room. Will is… around his age, he guesses. Around his height, around his build. Dark eyes, easy smile. He can’t help but think that Mr. Peterson has a type, and he also can’t help but wonder what– 

“Leo, introduce yourself,” Mr. Peterson says, sharply enough that Leo doesn’t hesitate to reach out his hand.

“I’m Leo.” He smiles, as he would greet any other of Mr. Peterson’s guests. “It’s nice to meet you,” he continues.

Will takes his hand, offering a gentle, if not a little bravely assertive, handshake. He watches Leo closely, holding his eye contact for just a moment too long.

“Well,” Mr. Peterson says, loud enough that Leo drops his hand abruptly, locking his fingers behind his back. “Looks like you two will be just fine.” He nods, as if to punctuate the thought.

Leo can’t shake the unease he feels as Mr. Peterson looks over Will once, then lets his gaze shift to Leo.

✥ ✥ ✥ 

They spend the first few days falling into a new routine. Leo, on edge since the day Will showed up, waits for the other shoe to drop, and Will puts a razor-sharp focus on assimilating with as little fanfare as possible. And he’s good at it.

Will, who, it turns out, is one year younger than Leo but has been in the system since the day after he turned eighteen, is, in a lot of ways, a perfect product of the training. He meets Leo in the kitchen every morning at seven, and while Leo makes breakfast, Will sets the table. While Leo cleans the bathroom, Will does the laundry. While Leo helps with the restaurant, Will does the yard work. 

Will seldom attempts to speak to him, but when he does, he keeps it light. It’s almost too easy, Leo thinks constantly, so at the end of their fifth night together, when Mr. Peterson stops Will from going to his bedroom with a terse, “Wait,” Leo immediately goes rigid. Partly because it has, he’s decided, been way too easy, and partly because Mr. Peterson is on his third scotch, but mostly because of the way Mr. Peterson looks not at Will as he speaks, but at Leo.

“Sit down,” Mr. Peterson says, and he inclines his head toward Leo. Will feels the danger here, too, Leo thinks. He’s hesitant in his step, maybe not noticeable to Mr. Peterson, but noticeable to Leo, who has watched him navigate the house with nothing but undiluted confidence for the last week. “I want to try something,” he says then. 

Leo nods, and Mr. Peterson says, “Finish your drink,” and so Leo does so without waiting, taking two big gulps of thousand-dollar wine, and then discarding his glass. “Would you like another?” he asks, and Leo eagerly agrees. Mr. Peterson looks to Will, who fills both of their glasses, and he watches as both of his workers body their drinks.

“I thought maybe,” Mr. Peterson eventually says (and here, he has the audacity to sound nervous), “I thought it might be nice for the two of you to get to know one another a little bit better.” He stands, stretching, and says, “I’m going to help myself to another scotch. When I get back, I trust you’ll both be ready to move things along here.” He looks only at Leo, with an expectant stare that makes the hairs on Leo's arm stand up.

Leo waits until Mr. Peterson has retreated out of sight before he speaks.

He looks straight ahead as he speaks, but he knows Will is listening. In his peripheries, Will leans forward, and takes a slow sip of his wine.

“Whatever happens," Leo hears himself saying, shoving his hands under his legs to keep them from shaking, "I want you to know that I didn’t want this." He keeps his voice low, loud enough to reach Will but not loud enough to reach the bar. “Whatever he makes me do, or whatever he makes you do, just know that I didn’t… I didn’t choose this.” There’s a panicked edge to his tone that grows with each word, and he knows he needs to lose it quickly. He takes the deepest breath he can, as his eyes track Mr. Peterson making his way back to the living room.

“I know,” Will responds, equally softly. And then, as Mr. Peterson lowers himself back down onto the sofa, he says, “It’s okay.”

✥ ✥ ✥ 

Leo waits until he’s sure both Mr. Peterson and Will have fallen asleep before he allows himself to stand, unsteady on his feet but eager for this night to end. He walks as calmly as he can to the bathroom before he doubles over the toilet, expelling everything his stomach has to offer before letting his forehead rest on his arm.

The feeling of Will’s hands on him, of Will’s mouth on him while Mr. Peterson coaches every movement. Mr. Peterson's voice, look at his face, and he likes that, and god, fucking perfect, and keep going, and use your tongue, and don't be afraid to go a little rougher, and fucking hands down, Leo, and you're doing good, and you're so fucking hot, and every word plays through Leo’s head on repeat and Leo wants to scream to make it stop, but he can't. There's no stopping it, and there's no end to it, and it reminds him, in some ways, of how... He thought he was done, but as images of Mr. Peterson's weight landing on the sofa next to him, of Mr. Peterson stopping Will to look at him, to touch him, as Mr. Peterson's guides Leo's hand, he doubles over the toilet once more–

A knock on the door pulls Leo back to the moment, and there's a second of sheer, perfect panic where he realizes he was too loud, and someone's awake, and things are going to get infinitely worse, before he looks up. And it's... it’s Will who stands in the doorway, backlit by the dull yellow of the hall light, and Leo can breathe again.

“I was that bad, huh?” Will asks, kneeling to a crouch next to him. Will smiles, an apologetic, soft smile that Leo isn’t accustomed to, because frankly, he's not accustomed to Will speaking to him at all, before he lets the back of his hand sweep the slightly overgrown hair from Leo’s neck.

“It’s not you,” Leo says, voice hoarse and still teetering on the edge of hysteria. “It’s me.” 

Will laughs then, and it's a genuine sound that Leo hasn’t heard in years, and something about it is all too much, setting off the months, or maybe years, of pent up anxiety, and Leo can’t stop the cascade of tears that silently begins to fall.

Will, for his part, sits next to him, and with no pressure for him to stop, and no one waiting for him to get his shit together, Leo cries harder.

Until eventually, he takes a long, deep breath, and he forces himself to calm down.

Several minutes pass, with both boys silent and processing the events of the evening, before Will finally says, “Did I hurt you?”

Leo replies, almost instantly, “No.”

“Okay," Will says. "Good.” He pauses, leveling his gaze on Leo. The silence draws out again, until finally, Will stands, putting his hand out to help Leo up. “I wish I could promise it won’t happen again,” Will says, quietly. “I… whatever I can do to make it easier, I’ll do. But I’ve been with guys like Mr. Peterson before, and I’ve seen the way he looks at you, and I… I think this wasn’t the end of something, it wasn’t a satisfaction of some dark repressed urge he had as a one time thing. I think it was the beginning of something.” Will opens the door and gestures Leo out first, but squeezes his shoulder as he does.

“I know,” Leo replies.

FIGHTER TAG LIST: @whump-cravings @afabulousmrtake @crystalquartzwhump @maracujatangerine @pumpkin-spice-whump @distinctlywhumpthing @thecyrulik @highwaywhump @batfacedliar-yetagain @finder-of-rings @dont-touch-my-soup @skyhawkwolf @suspicious-whumping-egg @also-finder-of-rings @whump-for-all-and-all-for-whump @peachy-panic @melancholy-in-the-morning @urban-dark @nicolepascaline @quietly-by-myself @pigeonwhumps @whump-blog  @seasaltandcopper @angstyaches @i-msonotcreative @mylifeisonthebookshelf @anonintrovert @whump-world @squishablesunbeam @considerablecolors @whumpcereal @whumperfully @pirefyrelight @whumpsday @whumplr-reader @lonesome--hunter @darkthingshappen @alexmundaythrufriday

[luvvyouforever]

Hello!! I saw that your requests were open. Could you possibly do another Modern AU! Rhysand x College Student! reader fic? I loved the first one you posted and definitely gave me some comfort with how stressful college is 😭

I always liked imagining the ACOTAR universe in a modern au. Especially Velaris in a modern setting.

Hope you are doing well and taking care of yourself💜💜

hi! absolutely dear <3 i tried to include more velaris in this!

comfort on the bridge - modern au!rhysand x college student!reader

↳ a night out in velaris ought to clear your worries about upcoming exams. does it actually, though?

↳ modern portrayal of velaris, mentions of self doubt and stress, reader is studying to be a teacher but it could be replaced with any major/focus. this isn't my best work, i'll admit, and it did take me like two weeks to completely finish but here you go!

↳ divider art from @firefly-graphics

usually, there was nothing better than a night out on the town in velaris, surrounded by the inner circle and your loving partner, rhysand. very little made you more excited than getting dressed up with mor, pregaming with cassian, and flooding the dance floor of rita's. tonight, however, it was the last thing you wanted to do.

rhysand could sense your hesitance about going out, feeling the bond between you two grow shaky and antsy but there was no way you could bring yourself to say no to them. you were just more stressed out than you imagined possible and so much more was in your mind than getting drunk and dancing to fae pop music.

mortal college was more than you had anticipated. it was always your goal, far before your ears grew pointy and you became a part of the night court's defenders, to go to college and make something of yourself. rhysand encouraged you wholeheartedly, telling you over and over that it was a good idea, that velaris needed more teachers, that you could accomplish it.

and now, your college career was coming to a close which only meant certifications, exams, and papers that all required more of you than you could give. you could only remind yourself of the shining new generation of fae being born in velaris that needed teaching so many times.

all of those worries and deadlines could not be suppressed by the strong liquor going down your throat, leaving a harsh burn in its wake. nevertheless, you took every shot cassian offered and with everyone one of them, rhysand grew more worried.

"you're putting 'em down tonight, y/n!" cassian cheered as the clink of the shot glass hitting the bar rang through the room. "you want another one?"

"yeah, i'd lo-"

"darling, i really don't think you should have another drink. you'll feel terrible later," rhysand's deep voice sent shivers down your spine as his large chest came up behind you. instinctively, you leaned back into his warmth.

"no! we gotta have fun tonight! i can't let anyone down!" you rebutted. your hand reached for the drink on the bar but your hand was trapped by rhysand's before you could. "hey!"

without a response or argument, rhysand began to tug and you didn't put up much of a fight (you were positive that one wrong move and your lack of coordination would land you on your butt on the floor). cassian looked at the two of you, making brief eye contact with rhysand and he nodded in understanding. something was wrong.

"where are we going?" you asked your partner after you stepped into the fresh air of velaris. despite it being so late, the city was quite alive with people, bikes, lights, music, and sounds. it was a beautiful sight, one that usually caught your breath, but there were more pressing matters. like why did rhysand take you away from your fun? the worries were just now being forgotten!

rhysand didn't answer your pestering but instead led you down some streets, up one incline, and landed at an old steel bridge that was at a high enough point to overlook the streets below. it was a spot you frequented when stressed but you didn't know that anyone knew. of course rhysand knew.

without having to say anything, you both perched on the edge of the bridge, wrapping your legs around the posts. your arms brushed against each other and with a few deep breaths, you felt the alcohol begin to leave your system as quickly as it came in.

"what's going on? you're drinking a lot, you seem stressed. i feel it. i don't even have to look in your mind to tell," rhysand said softly. his violet eyes shined in the night and though his gaze was strong, you couldn't help but fall into it.

you sighed and leaned your forehead against the cool metal of the bridge. the sounds of your city flooded your ears and it washed you with some calm that you were searching for. "i'm just stressed. there's so much on my plate, so much coming up, and i don't feel smart enough or good enough for any of it." just speaking the words out loud felt like a weight being taken off of your body. surgically removed and thrown hundreds of miles away.

"tell me about it," your partner said. he wouldn't get it, necessarily, but sharing the weight would help.

"there's three certification tests i have to take, all of which are unnecessarily hard. and that's just so i can get my license to teach. i still have four exams, all worth well over a hundred points, and i feel grossly underprepared for each and everyone one of them. then there's this theory class that's all about best practices in education and research and i feel like i'm picking up none of it," you expressed. "i don't feel like i am going to be the best i can be for velaris. i want to teach them but i'm struggling to pass my class. how am i supposed to impart all of this amazing knowledge on them when i don't even know it?"

your head fell forward onto the bar again and you relished in the soothing feeling of it. down below, music and laughter erupted from a rooftop bar. you wished you could know what rhysand was thinking.

"you know...i think you're the most intelligent person i ever met-"

"that's not-"

"ah! ah! no arguing," rhysand cut you off. "as i was saying...you are the most intelligent person i ever met. the capabilities you have far exceed anyone in the spring court and hewn city combined. the passion you have for our city and its education is so admirable, y/n. everyone will be so lucky to have you as their teacher. the fact that you committed to going to mortal college just to provide the small number of velaris children with a proper education proves to me that the cauldron picked the most perfect person to be my mate."

looking at onto your city, rhysand's words sunk in. somewhere in a back yard, high fae children laughed cheerfully, clearly excited to be up later than what would usually be allowed. it was hard work but work that you were more than excited to be doing.

with a sigh, you leaned into rhysand's side, grateful for him being your rock. "will you help me study for the praxis?" you asked quietly.

rhysand's head dipped down and planted a soft kiss on your forehead. "me and all of velaris will help you through whatever you need, darling. and we will be there at your graduation, glamoured and cheering."

[fleet-of-fiction]

Jake Kiszka // Female Narrator

Part Four

After a blinding light eradicates mankind, you're left in a desolate and empty world. A year of solitude eliminates all belief that anyone else was left behind. Until a chance encounter on the side of the road. Jake is injured and fighting for his life, but his presence brings a renewed sense of hope. Touch starved and lonely, you need him. And undoubtedly, he needs you too.

"It would be the last man on earth that would end up being mine..."

Explicit sexual content Sex (penetrative & oral) /Foreplay /Blood / Injury / Hunting. / Intense emotions / Death.

Day 430 ~ Amelia

Gunshots echoed through the canopy. Birds cried out overhead, fleeing their nests. The sound of wings in desperate flight as they tried to escape an inevitable death. And I'd never particularly enjoyed it, to see their little bodies hit the ground and have to pluck their feathers and gut them like they'd never been living, breathing creatures of the earth we shared.

But I could no longer walk into a grocery store and pick one up all nice and neatly packaged. Plucked and skinned ready to be chopped or diced. I had to watch the life fade from their eyes.

"I think I got one." Jake said, lowering the rifle from his cheek bone. "I'm getting good at this."

He was a good shot. You couldn't deny him the satisfaction he took with each kill. Never more than birds or squirrels. Anything more would have been outside your realms as a hunter. You'd never been allowed to shoot anything bigger.

"Make sure it's a clean kill." You always said it, like there was a way to absolve yourself of having to take a life.

He was starting to grow a little line of hair above his lip and on the underside of his chin. I suspected he wasn't capable of garnishing his face with anything more, but it was starting to change the shape of his face. He looked a little more rugged. Like a man who had seen some things he dared not speak of. A man who had known suffering but could still smile despite it all.

"You don't have to do this anymore." He sighed, flinging his kill over his shoulder. "I can see how uncomfortable it makes you."

He would have done anything to give me comfort. He was gentle and kind and whimsical. He didn't belong on his own, he was a pack creature. He needed validation and love, but more than that he needed somewhere to belong.

"You want me to stay home and tend the house while you go out hunting? Like a tv wife?" I jested, balking at the sight of the dead bird he carried.

"Why not?" He shrugged with sincerity. "And then I can come home after a long day and kick my boots off and say honey, I'm home!"

It had never crossed my mind that Jake would take over some of the duties I'd been doing all by myself. That he would want to carry some of the burden of our survival. I'd hoped, perhaps, that he might integrate himself as somebody I could exist alongside of without too much of a struggle.

But in truth, I was falling in love with him.

"If only the apocalypse had been of the zombie variety." I said, rolling my eyes. "You'd have had all the opportunities in the world to shoot things."

I started back towards the cabin, following the muddy path back up from where we'd found ourselves down near the lake. All the birds liked to congregate near the water. To hunt game it was the best spot in the woods. A steep incline that was always an inconvenience on the way back up awaited us, and I was eager to get back inside before the light began to fade.

"The dead are still here, aren't they?" He mused, staying close behind but far enough away that the corpse on his shoulder didn't unnerve me too much. "Isn't that what you said? There's still time."

I couldn't help but giggle at his intimation. But I was still haunted by those vacant eyes on the slab. Telling me everything I needed to know without speaking a damn word.

"I think if the dead had any plans to rise they would have done it a long time ago." I replied, "And besides, we don't need another thing roaming around out there."

We heard them at night. Howling. All the dogs that had once been docile pets in the towns and cities, wild and free like their ancestors now. Those who had survived, at least. Those that had adapted. I pitied their struggle the most. Where once they'd known nothing but love, there was only the hunt to kill instinct.

And as I watched Jake take his prized kill home to eat, I did wonder how he had managed to retain all his softness.

Day 431 ~ Amelia

He didn't sleep in that bunk anymore. It had gone unslept in ever since the rain had stopped. Every night he'd asked me if I wanted him to go back to his room and every night I'd made a promise to myself that just one more wouldn't hurt.

And every single one of those promises felt as if I was making them to a faceless and nameless deity that held my life's destiny in their hands. Who was I making that promise to? Why did it matter? Would it be so terribly wrong to continue enjoying Jakes body next to mine?

I was never really certain who's voice it was speaking to me when I told myself that it was wrong to need him. That same voice screaming at me now telling me it was wrong to want him.

How could I not fall in love with him? He took his time with me. Spending hours whispering questions into my ear. Sweeping his hands over my body, asking me if I liked the way he touched me. If I needed him to do anything differently. Altering his pressure and speed to my preference. Reducing me to a quivering wreck without ever asking for anything in return.

Once I knew that it was inevitable, I couldn't stop the temptation anymore. Satisfying each other with our hands and our tongues, never stepping over the threshold of penetration. It was a risk I simply wasn't prepared to make.

"Amelia?"

I snapped my head up over the shelf of cereal that was slowly decaying away. Jake was standing on the other side, stuffing detergent and fabric softener into his back pack.

"Sorry, I was miles away."

He smiled at me.

The store was shrouded in darkness, daylight coming in from the entrance at the other side. The fresh food had long since perished or been eaten by scavenging dogs and what was left was either long past usable or too heavy for me to load into my Grandpa's truck.

"I said I need to head over to home depot." He repeated, "Gonna fix that door on the chicken coop."

The incessant rapping of it blowing in the wind had kept him awake. He was adamant that he could fix it, despite confessing to having little to no experience with joinery. Something else that really didn't seem to matter. He would try, regardless.

"I've got a few things I need to do before we head back." I replied, hoping he wouldn't venture into it any further.

Supply runs had always been something I'd endured more than enjoyed. There was something about built up areas that just soaked me in a fear that reminded me I was alone. And sometimes, I'd been afraid that perhaps there was a chance that I wasn't. Watching Jake grab things off the shelves and hum to himself as he scanned the ever dwindling aisles, I felt a sense of calm.

"Oh yeah, like what?" He questioned, cocking his head to the side as we met at the end of the cereal boxes.

"Meds supplies." I replied, pleased at the speed in which I'd come up with something that wasn't entirely a lie. "Used a lot of stock on you when you first got here."

His hunting rifle was tucked away under his pack straps. His hair tied back into a low bun, a serious darkness beneath his eyes where he hadn't slept making his gaze appear more sinister as he pulled me in.

"Meet you back at the truck in thirty minutes?" He whispered, sliding palms down the curve of my spine as he kissed the edge of my jaw.

"Thirty minutes." I agreed, letting him have a taste of a kiss before we went in separate directions.

The Roanoke planned parenthood was only a short walk from the depot, but far enough away that I knew he wouldn't find cause to follow me there. It was eerily void of life, as I'd expected. But I still had to step over the weather worn and ripped remains of pro-life flags that were strewn across the open entrance.

The irony was not lost upon me. How none of it mattered anymore and yet there I was, after the world had ended, responsible for ensuring I didn't get knocked up. I laughed a little, at the ridiculousness of it. Trying to keep my footsteps light as they echoed down empty clinic corridors.

It was far too close a reminder of those first days in the hospital. The shadows of others still lingering in the ether. But not anymore. The only thing that echoed was me and my choice not to bring life into a world that had purged itself of it.

Like everywhere else, it was dark. The windowless corridors winding down towards examination and consultation rooms that were equally void of natural light. It wasn't difficult to find where they kept the IUD's and implants, once I'd stumbled on the only cupboard that was locked.

I'd have to do it myself. Make the incision and implant the device into my flesh. It wasn't something they'd taught in medical school. Performing minor surgery on yourself in the event of the eradication of mankind. Yet, there I was. Scalpel in hand and a reluctance to watch as I made the incision. Blood dripped down my arm. Pain tore through me. I clenched my eyes shut as I clicked it into place beneath my skin.

I held my breath. Sent curses reverberating off the clinic walls. A massacre in my hand as I held the shaking blade up in disbelief that I had done it. I didn't even know if it would work. Everything had a use-by date. Even the medication I knew would one day become useless.

As I wrapped my arm up, careful not to apply too much pressure, I let my mind wander into a future that was so uncertain I didn't want to picture it. I could see a faceless child sitting on the porch steps, a sweet voice calling out to me in a dream like echo. But it wasn't my name they were calling, it was Mommy...

I shuddered. The dread spilling down my spine like a portent. I wouldn't. I couldn't. No child deserved to grow up alone. The fantasy that I could have spent my life never knowing how Jake felt inside me becoming a real possibility as I checked my watch.

Five minutes to get back to the truck before he would panic.

I was uninspired. Feeling the gravity of my choice and my blood. He would sit there with his cock in his hand. Hard and fierce. And I would know pain for this pleasure. The sacrifice entirely mine. For him? I would have cut myself a thousand times. Uninspired, but only because I hurt.

I felt the rush of adrenaline spike as I returned to the daylight. Kicking those flags to the side as I exited. No doubt in my mind that if by some terrible mistake we brought a child into this world it would be loved and cherished. But only by us. And that wasn't enough.

He was waiting by the truck as I approached. One knee bent against the wheel arch, eyes roving around in search of me.

"Sorry." I yelled across the empty street. "Got a little delayed."

There was palpable relief in his face as I greeted him, throwing my pack in the back along with whatever he'd thrown in there. I could see wood and tools and various other things we potentially didn't need, but he'd taken anyway.

"I realised something." He said, taking the liberty of moving my hair aside, making me pay attention to the seriousness of his tone.

I'd often wondered where he got this air of confidence from. It was as if there had never been any doubt in his mind of how he felt. How certain he was that I would never hurt him. I wanted to bottle it up and drink it.

"What?" I replied, letting him covet me.

"I missed you." He murmured, fingertips planing down my throat. "We haven't been apart, not really. I was walking through home depot and I was struck by this feeling that you should've been with me."

I could see the wistfulness in his deep brown eyes. He was picturing us sauntering through home depot together, talking about all the things we wanted to do to improve our home. Discussing measurements and which grain of wood would look best. Maybe he was imagining it before the world ended. Maybe there were other people doing the exact same thing and the exact same time in his little daydream.

I envied him of that dream. I wanted so badly to imagine the sweetness of it. But all I could feel was the throbbing ache in my arm.

"You're somewhere else." He mused, pulling me back as he realised I wasn't responding. "What's the matter?"

His hands came about my arms, trying to embrace me. I flinched, causing all the faraway beauty in his eyes to fade. Now there was only concern.

"Are you hurt?" He fussed.

"No, no. Nothing like that." I protested, shrugging out of his embrace so that I could lower my coat sleeve.

He could see the blood pooling beneath the bandage. I hadn't been careful enough with myself. But he seemed to understand. He traced a fingertip against the blood, looking to me to see if it hurt.

"I never would have asked this of you." He said stoically. "I'd have taken responsibility."

There was no doubt in my mind that he would have. The sweet gentleness of his discourse as he kissed me in the crisp late winter air was enough. Streams of breath converging as his mouth opened to welcome my tongue. The incessant throbbing that took home in my core beating a song that told me I had done the right thing. This was my choice. Regardless.

"We can't bring a child into this, Jake." I shook my head, steadying his mouth as it continued against mine with a hand to his cheek. "You understand that, don't you?"

He paused. As if the thought hadn't crossed his mind deeply enough to plague him. Such was the privilege of a man.

"I'd have been satisfied." He countered, "Haven't you been satisfied these last few weeks?"

To what end could we had rolled around in those sheets until we'd have become irrevocably connected? He was sweet to say it. But I'd seen enough of humanity to know their wants and needs.

"Jake..." I said matter-of-factly. "It's just a little cut. It will heal. It just means we don't have to be so careful now. Don't you want that?"

He closed his eyes slowly. Exhaling. As if the thought alone was a sinful repose of a dream that would be something he could truly have. I liked the way he thought about it. Making a low, gravelly sound as he pulled my coat my back up over my shoulders.

"If I ever wanted anything, it's that." He replied, pressing his lips to my forehead as he bundled me up and into the truck. "Now let's get home so that I can fuck you senseless."

I was about to explain about the seven days grace period for it to start working, but my eye was caught by movement down the street. I peeked over the edge of the passenger side door as I climbed in, taking note of the creatures that appeared at the intersection.

"Jake, look!" I whispered.

He was searching for the keys in his many pockets. Distracted. I grabbed his chin and forced his head up, causing him to still even his breathing.

Creeping steadily through the urban decay, they noticed us as we noticed them. A mountain lion mother and her cub. My heart was pounding in my chest. Round, black eyes met mine in a solemn gaze across the concrete keeping us apart. She understood that I meant her no harm. And she, in return, began to pad away from us in mutual respect for whatever life had been left behind.

"Get a lot of mountain lions around here?"

His voice was small. Riddled with fear. His hand reaching for the rifle on the back of his pack. I put my hand on his to steady him.

"No." I replied calmly, "Not for hundreds of years. Hunting grounds must be changing. She means us no harm."

The little cub took a curious look at us. Their whiskers snuffling into the air, no doubt catching our scent before following it's mother.

"For a world that doesn't seem to want life, it sure as fuck seems to have given precedence to other life forms." Jake huffed, "We're the only species who can control the outcome of sex."

"But for how long?" I sighed, "Life finds a way."

Maybe the portent was in this. As I watched the mother and cub disappear behind the building opposite, I was gripped with a sense that in reality I had no control whatsoever. Everything we were doing right now to prevent life was futile. Maybe it wasn't humanity that had been eradicated. Maybe it was just the humanity that we'd become.

Day 439 ~ Jake

The days were growing warmer and longer. I could feel the pull of spring in the trees. My lungs felt much fuller, now that I could draw breath without too much trouble.

The ground was drying up, it felt like the birds were starting to chirp in the morning more sweetly. What had been sleeping was starting to awaken. And it felt like I was, too.

Amelia was the sort of woman I didn't know that I needed. The sort of woman who craved to be taken care of but would ruthlessly abandon all requests for help. She didn't need me, I knew that I was surplus to requirements when she reluctantly allowed me to start hunting and chopping wood without her interference.

But I was under no illusion that she wanted me. She stood on the porch steps with a steaming cup, diligently watching me with the axe in my hand. Chopping wood was something I knew, something I'd always done. Something she hadn't needed to show me.

"Enjoying the show?" I teased, rounding off another harsh blow as the log beneath my strike split in two on the block.

She continued to sip on her drink, leaning against the rail. Wearing a t-shirt that I'd picked up during a supply run, grateful to be out of the clothes she'd given me to wear. Wrapped in an oversized cardigan and nothing covering her legs, she looked like she'd only just rolled out of bed.

"You're putting on quite the performance." She giggled, sending my pulse into disarray.

It had been hours since I'd touched her. I knew it would be something I'd have to endure, knowing I was days away from being able to slide inside her and know what she felt like wrapped around my cock. I'd tortured myself with it. Ticking off mental hours as I'd laid in bed at her side.

I shook my head, strands of my hair falling out from the bun I'd lazily sculpted to keep it out of my face as I chopped. The heat of the exertion making me sweat beneath my flannel shirt.

"Are you just going to stand there and watch?" I asked, fighting the urge to stick my axe in the block and go over to her.

"Yes." She replied stubbornly.

I placed another log in the block. Rounding off to a resounding blow that caused the two halves to shoot off either side of the axe. I always felt more powerful when that happened, as if the singular blow was strong enough that I didn't need to pull it out and round off again to complete the split. It felt all the more satisfying knowing that she had seen it.

"Hmmm, you like to watch huh?" I threw the two halves into the pile I'd already made, throwing her an amused smile too.

Last night she'd been like putty in my hands. Her body stiff as I worked my way around her clit, her eyes closed and her moans stifled as I talked her through it. Telling her she was soft and warm, growing hard against her hip as she revelled in the way I spoke to her. The hemisphere of her lower body completely saturated, beholden to my whim.

I told her she was the most beautiful creature I had ever seen. That her pussy felt so good against my hand. Trailing a breeze of a touch over her swollen bud, making her buck upwards for a harder friction. I liked the way she begged me for more. Her little whimpering voice so submissive, so sweetly veiled in the question she wouldn't dare to ask for outside the realms of sex.

Weeks of foreplay building up to this.

"You know, it'll be warm enough to chop wood without your shirt on soon." She raised a playful eyebrow, mischief in her voice.

I stuck my axe in the block and wiped my brow with the back of my hand. Releasing a few more buttons until my chest met the cool air.

"You're nothing but a fan, aren't you? I'm really sorry to tell you that I don't fuck my fans." I shrugged, watching her wrap the cardigan around her waist as she appraised me.

"That is a shame." She replied sarcastically. "Because here I was coming to tell you that the seven days were up."

The blood flow to my cock immediate piqued. I could feel it begin to stir, throbbing at the underside and tip as it slowly grew.

She lost all her joviality as she stared at me. Her blue eyes striking me, as they always did, like she could see straight through me into the parts of me I couldn't hide.

"What are you waiting for?" I dared to ask, the two of us locked in a strange stand off.

She let the cardigan open. I could see her chest rising and falling, her breath deep and shallow. She let it fall to the ground. With violent intent she tore down the steps, pulling off the t-shirt over her head. Messing up her hair, ragged breaths escaping me as I found myself struggling to breathe once more.

I stepped away from the chopping block. Buttons flying open as I ripped my shirt off. My fingers not doing as I willed them as I tried to pull my belt buckle apart. The anticipation was making every nerve ending numb, like I couldn't formulate a string of thoughts that made any sense. Not even the ones required to pull my belt off.

She took it from me. Yanking it from my failing hands. Pulling my body into hers with it, striking a match I knew would never extinguish. She unclasped the buckle with ease. There was no difficulty for her, no stumble in her step as she pulled everything down in a desperate attempt to take what she wanted.

There was nothing more beautiful than her desire. It was far more dark than who she was in the cold light of day. And I was drawn to the darkness, I always had been. The fathomless prose of her eyes as she wasted no time in dragging our bodies to the ground.

I could smell the earth. The moss and the fern. The wood and the soil. I could feel it at my back, solid and soft all at the same time. And her above me, like the Goddess that she was. All knotted hair and freckles as she straddled over my erection.

There would be time enough for gentleness. Time enough to savour it. What had been building for all those nights which came before demanded to be slaked. She didn't even waste the time that it would take to rip her thong off, slipping the fabric at her crotch to the side in haste.

"Fuck..." She hissed, a symphony of unadulterated songs there in her voice as she sank onto my grateful cock.

I couldn't stop myself from digging my fingers into her hips. Guiding her up and down in blissful rhythm. She felt like a tight little ribbon had wrapped itself around me from base to tip, coveting my shaft in smooth silken wetness that threatened to unravel far sooner than I'd have liked.

It was the combination of how she felt inside and the look on her face that would ruin me. The way her tits bounced as she moved, the way she softly cursed at the way I rutted upwards to hit deeper. My own words reeling out like poetry of filth.

"You feel so good, fuck... stretching me so good Jakey...I swear..."

Who was this girl? This woman? All those soft mumbles as I'd edged her to oblivion with other parts of my body had stepped aside for this demon who worshipped my cock. The altar set, her devotion of it unrepentant.

She had bled for this. She'd cut for this. She would have it and that fact alone made me feel as if I wanted to cum inside her right there as I stared up at her pained expressions. Brow furrowed and lips parted, panting wildly as her breasts rubbed against my chest as she leaned into a kiss that was dominated by tongue and arousal.

"You like how my cock feels?" I breathed, clutching her ass in both palms, letting my finger tips reach around for where I could feel myself sliding in and out of her.

She bit down on her lower lip, nodding passionately as I parted her ass cheeks and manipulated a single fingertip towards her sweet spot. She gasped. An evil little smirk taking place of the shock once I began massaging, any hope of romance dashed.

"It's everything...everything..." She sang, bittersweet because no matter how many times I would fuck her this would always be the first time.

It wasn't how I'd imagined it. I'd been the hero of that day dream. The one who had taken her, pleased her and pounded her into the mattress for as long as it took to make her cum on my eager cock. I'd been the one to instigate it, guide her into an orgasm that would've lifted the lid on her immortal soul. This was not that. This was real. Gritty. Down in the mud and with a ferocity that was all hers.

"That's it, my beautiful girl, take it..."

This wasn't about me, although I felt as if my cock had never known such a welcome as she clenched around me. This was about her. Whatever she wanted from me, she had earned. She deserved. I took her thrusts and shot my own into the rhythm, holding her ass as I pounded upwards. Her corresponding moans a clear signal that she wanted it like that.

"Fuck me harder, Jake...I'm almost there..."

I could feel that ribbon start to fray at the edges. My resolve fading. The tingle that shot up my shaft like the resurrection of a feeling I'd not had in so long I'd almost forgotten it.

"You gonna cum all pretty for me?" I asked, seeing the flush in her cheeks and the desperation to finish in her eyes. "Such a fucking beautiful pussy, give it up to me...It's mine."

My claim had her screaming a siren call that disrupted the nesting birds. She arched her back and let me see those tremendous breasts and the heaving of her stomach against her ribs as she released. The trees rumbled as the birds took flight, and so did her orgasm. Mine flowing out through the tip of my cock, spurting inside her as I tried to hold it together. To let her have her moment.

Because that was all it was. A moment. Not hours of love making. Hours of brutal fucking. Just a moment that she had taken, and I had given freely. And it wasn't until we were done that I'd known quite how much I'd been pining for a sweet little pussy like hers to let me in. How much I'd disregarded how much I needed it.

It was like I wasn't in survival mode anymore. I was thriving.

Day 469 ~ Amelia

We passed the wreckage where I'd found him on our route towards the road. It felt like part of the forest now, vines and shrubs growing around it. Reclaiming it. Sometimes I regarded it and wondered what might have happened if our paths had never crossed.

And other times I paid it no attention at all. Passing it like I would any other tree. For some reason, on this particular day, Jake had felt the need to stop.

"Do you ever think about it?" He asked poignantly, running his hand over the smoked frame of what was once his car.

"Sometimes." I replied, letting him figure out whatever it was that was hanging on. "But I try not to. We found each other, didn't we?"

I was obsessed with him. The way he looked, the way he felt. The way he tasted after drinking wine and the way he smelled after a shower. The shape of his lips and the way his mouth pockets moved as he spoke. Even the dark circles that were ever present beneath his eyes were a reason to love him.

"It scares the fuck out of me to think I could have driven right past you and never known."

I took his hand away and put it in mine. Entwining our fingers.

"You can't think like that. There's a thousand what if's and none of them stand against what we've got." I comforted him, "If we truly are the only ones left, how lucky that it was you and I that were left behind."

He coiled those big hands around my waist.

"You always know what to say when I get like this." He crooned softly into my ear, "Why don't you let me be the big strong man you need for a while?"

Day light would fade in a few hours. I liked it when he needed to feel dominant, I relished in it. But the walk we needed to take was another hour south.

"I would, but you know I have a surprise for you." I sighed, letting him rail a hand down the curve of my breasts. "So you'll have to save all that big strong manliness for later."

He grunted into my neck and placed a solitary kiss there.

"I love you, my sweet Amelia."

He'd said before in his sleep. But never in waking hours. I tried to keep my heart from soaring. But he noticed the way I held my breath at the sound of those words. Taken aback by them, almost. Unexpected. And yet soulfully beautiful, here in this tiny little moment where he needed something to hold on to.

"And I love you, my darling Jake." I whispered back, "Now, come on. There's something I want to show you."

.

.

.

@caprisunsister @thewritingbeforesunrise @takenbythemadness @katuschka @its-interesting-van-kleep @lvnterninthenight @writingcold @jakekiszkasbuttsweat @edgingthedarkness @velveteencatch @lyndz2names @nina-23-45 @itsafullmoon @vikingisthenewsexy @char289

[dearweirdme]

Responding to some of the comments from my last mole anon ask I'm not new to the group but I am new to the ship. I first started listening to the group around 2018 but watching stuff like Run and the festas a few yrs later and from that, I wouldn't have guessed taekook were dating or even one of the closest friendship. They seemed touchy yeah but i think that for the whole group tbh. It wasn't really until solo era that I started focusing more on fan stuff. I'd say before that I was more fo a casual fan who enjoyed watching the content but wasn't really desperate to see everything bts. Like I knew the basics and the memes but never really was inclined to delve any further and my knowledge of shipping was mostly critical. I did see some of the narratives in the backlash to shipping such as taekook being less close than other members and with (what I now know is edited) official content reinforcing that, it was much easier to believe that than a secret taekook love affair.

But Layover turned out to be one of my favorite albums because it was closest to my musical tastes and culture of music i grew up with and so I started hitting up twitter and specifically searching stuff up to discuss more about tae and his musical influences coz I thought he did such a great job with that album and had some real soul in it despite not being raised in that culture or country of that kind of music. And I think because of the algorithms and how popular taekook is that's when I started seeing my taekook posts pop up on my timeline and from a ship critical perspective, I brushed most of as delulu coz wlmy first exposure of ships being discussed in fandom was that it was weird and inappropriate to ship.

And the stuff that I did see out of morbid curiosity (and I admit it wasn't a lot at that time) just really validated the 'fake' accusations because it was all slow mo'd edits and taekook seemed to have 7 different anniversary dates according to the taekook stuff I read so it was seeming more like shippers were just trying to fit a circle onto a square hole or something. Plus I'd see people responding to those slo mo edits with the real time links and that made it seem even faker.

The I recently saw the mole video on twitter that brought me here and that was the first thing were I couldn't really rationalise it with a platonicary answer because one of the first things I can remember doing in a relationship is laying in bed counting and mapping each others marks and freckles.

So that to me seemed just highly romantic for a couple of bros.

Except I lost the video on twitter so I tried YouTube to find it, nothing. Searched the Internet on general, nothing and I ended up stumbling across this blog. I think I discovered while browsing after seeing a response to an ask that I thought sounded fair enough a d really kinda middle ground for a shipper. It was framed as like 'idnk for sure but here's what I think' and after looking for the link and coming across people who were more definitive in their theories and stuff, I thought somewhere like here would be the best place to ask for the info.

Because at that point, shipping didn't have any good associations to me and I wasn't really comfortable with my own speculation that the mole vid was leaving me with but I also couldn't stop second guessing my own first reaction to deny, deny, deny and make an excuse for it.

So my intentions really were to post here, get a link to the vid, watch it again and be like 'oh yeah, that's been blown out of proportion. No ships sailing here' like I had when people sent those real time links in response to ship edit videos.

(Except we all know what happened next)

While waiting for a response which came pretty quickly, I was looking up for more info on taekook in general and was coming up with mostly horse shit but I was also noticing the more reasoned stuff now that I was actively looking for it.

And in the response, DWM mentioned and tagged the taekook timeline which really topped off me taking a second look at the ship because again it was presented as kinda 'this is what I think, beware, I could be just high on delusional and this whole post could be wish fulfilment but here's what happened and what I think' and angles like that I can appreciate because I find it way more trustworthy than someone presenting a theory as fact which is what it felt like taekook lyves was doing a lot of, imo.

The timeline really sealed the deal for me, tbh, because seeing all their interactions in one place and running on concurrent really blew the hinges off the 'distance' narrative.

Which lead me to the ultimate question which I think is the fossil fuel that taekook sails on; what's with all the fucking secrecy and what's bighit hiding??

Because to me and with the timeline on front of me there was no distance on their distant relationship.

And so I've recently started a rewatch of some of their biggest hits. Like I started with bon voyage and I'm kicking myself and wondering why I didn't consider stuff like the room choosing situation in Bon Voyage Morrocoo or Malta wherever they were, more closely. I can't even explain why I just took it at face value as a joke because looking back JK made it so damn obvious.

And I started noticing the subtleties of their touching and the lack of space. I think part of me started reqatching the BV and Run episodes to be kinda proven right that there was nothing more to the ship and I was being delulu but the more I watch, the more Im starting to notice and those fossil fuel questions keep popping up in my mind.

And as a logical creature who said taekook isn't real when I couldn't see anything proving it, I can't then refuse to consider the possibility that it might be real now that I'm seeing stuff that I consider legit proof or support of a relationship.

As for theories, I don't want it to come across like I'm acting smarter or more superior than anyone else because I think everyone is working off theories even the people who don't believe in it because none of us know these guys or their lives but I don't like when theories are pushed as fact or manipulated or framed as the only possible conclusion to a question. Like could I make another theory as to why taekook ate mapping out each others moles, yeah, course I could but based on my own experience perception and no real clear arguement otherwise etc---the romantic reason is still the strongest supported to me.

So I don't have anything against theories just the way they're framed.

So yeah I guess that's my looong (sorry) story about how I accidently became a taekook shipper.

Hi again mole anon!

It’s really nice to hear your story actually. I think skepticism is definitely a good way to get into this. Also, props to Kayla @taekooktimeline for documenting so well 💜.

[nkn0va]

Let out a lil (manly) scream when I saw requests were open lol. Could I please get general relationship headcanons for Nine? I really enjoy your characterization of her, and so far out of the (admittedly like 3) blazblue writers ive seen you do her best. Thanks a lot man.

I could've fucking sworn I already did this. Guess not. Other two writers I'm assuming are @your-phantomfield and dopp before their old blog got deleted.

Speaking of phantomfield's writing though, I'd rather not have my HCs come off as just a carbon copy of their Nine post, so as opposed to writing Nine in the CF era, this will instead be for Nine post Dark War and before she got yeeted into the abyss. I'll try not to make it sad like I did with the Ragna post. This will unfortunately be shorter than the rest of my single character posts because I'm exhausted.

(Also sorry for not posting so much lately I've been finally trying to get good at UNI2 in my off time and my edgy ass was forced to pick Seth as one of my mains. Fuck TK dragonfist inputs.)

-It's...going to be a while before Nine is comfortable with intimacy in any capacity. She's spent so much of her life fighting now that she always has her guard up out of habit.

-It's a long road to the lowkey recovery from the trauma of a decade long war against a giant, world-ending, radioactive hydra, though once she does feel comfortable around you, her passion will burn as hot as her magic.

-It's not easy to get close to her, but those who manage it are in for life. She's quite overprotective of you not entirely unlike she is with Celica regardless of how good of a fighter you are. It's just in her nature.

-She is not one to shy away from PDA. She doesn't go out of her way to do it necessarily but if she just so happens to be in a doting mood she will not care who sees it. If anyone tries to reprimand her for it they will promptly be shut up with a glare from Nine as her hand lights on fire.

-Nine's family and friends are more important to her than anything else. She wants nothing more than for you all to get along, which considering who they are should be simple enough.

-Unfortunately get-togethers with everyone can't really happen considering how busy everyone is, especially her. Whenever the two of you finally can spend some time together she learns to treasure it.

-Of course this naturally soon escalates into the want to have a kid, especially after you get married. Your honeymoon is spent in bed for the most part...

-Nine is surprisingly traditional in her love/family values. She wants the idealistic happy ending that most people dream of. Get married, settle down, have a child, or children if the both of you feel so inclined. It's way more wholesome than initially expected from someone like her but it's certainly not unwelcome.

[anglerflsh]

for the statecraft/political thing, im trying to figure out the semantics of a government with shapeshifters in it, they naturally have lots of different body types but also odd disabilities that need to be accounted for like inability to shift/fly/magic illnesses etc. As far as i have its just that most of the power is with the citizens but they do have a figurehead ruler that tries to deal with other systemic conflicts imbalances and issues with immigration (as little as there is bc you need magic to get in), asylum, and healthare stuff. Theyre kinda smaller scale than usual after a big war made a lot of lives lost and scattered and theres someone that is supposed to be the rulers right hand specifically so if the ruler is unfair they can be killed and selection begins again. Most of the city is laid out around a round central square and is roundly shaped in general but im thinking that other nearby towns would be shaped differently based on the occupants veiws and magic abilities. This particular city is mainly focused on community, but still has poorer sections where people are less magically inclined and those sections tend to fall into disrepair. If you got snything at all, critique or addittion, city plans or politics, its much appreciated and i hope you have fun!!

Alright!! It seems like you're dealing with an elective monarchy that is coadivated with some sort of public assembly or council. This is a mixed type of Government, and it's a nice one. I'll leave some consideration and some questions that you could consider to further the system under the cut ^^

The ruler has power only over a specific set of issues - all of which from what you've said seem to me to fall into Domestic/Internal Social Politics. And I'm assuming all that the ruler does not decide is then handed to the citizens, again, from what you've said. I'd say to narrow down what exactly is competence of the monarch and what is of the democracy - does the ruler choose on wars, do they rule the army, or are those decisions of politica estera left to the democracy?

The ruler isn't in a hereditary position! Fascinating. This combined with the specificity of their duties would make me think that this role would ideally be taken by someone who's specialised in the field… you could either make this position elective, with candidates coming either from the general public or some sort of nobility group (families with a lot of wealth and power, of that have had a lot of governmental roles in the past, that sort of thing), or you could make it selective and make it be chosen by some sort of group - Depends on how democratic you'd like to make this: before hereditary positions were the norm, kings were chosen by the upper class from the upper class, so you could go with a similar set-up.

Is the right-hand able to take any decisions, or are they only there to act as a check? Are they also elected, and if so, is it in the same way as the king? Does the right-hand change after the king is killed, or does it stay the same person? It reminded me a bit of the consul system in Rome, so maybe looking into that might help.

If every other decision is taking by the citizens, you do have to figure out how exactly that happens, too Is there a popular assembly of every single citizen voting and debating and proposing decisions? That works in small settlements, but you seem to be working with a multi-city state. There are a couple of ways to go about it, I can suggest either to divide the territory in electoral colleges - by geography, by class, by census… anything, really - and have voting happen per-college to reach a final consensus (like the roman republic did with centurie/curie/tribù), or to have each place elect a rappresentative that can then go to some other collegial organ where the decisions happen.

Are there smaller decisional organs, like city councils, to decide on smaller matters that only pertain to a certain place? Can anyone propose something to decide on, or just some group/s? Does your country have a legal system? If so, are there laws that only the ruler can make, or are they within the realms of the democratic system? What's the justice system like? Is the ruler also the highest judge, like in medieval monarchies, or is that system completely different?

Who is in charge of the execution of the decisions? Is there a burocratic system of government workers?

Are there associations of traders in the same field who decide the inner regulations of that type of work (think le Arti in italian medieval times) or is that left to the government? If so, to which half of it?

This system sounds really cool! Hope all my questions can help you figure it out a bit more, remember that if you're writing a story you don't need to have all this figured out! Just the parts that matter for the story to make logical sense. Like, if you never touch on commerce or on the justice system you can leave that out completely. !! thanks for letting me play in this space I'd suggest you to look up the two or so different irl systems I mentioned for inspiration

[rollercoasterwords]

rae give us your thoughts on taylor swift more specifically her rich white feminist thing she’s got going on and her influence on the current ‘girlboss’ trend and the current perception of women in media today???? asking bc i love reading your opinions on this stuff 💕

it sounds like u have some opinions of ur own lol but sure i can talk abt taylor swift! will be putting it under a cut bc i love my swiftie mutuals tho...swiftie mutuals look away im going to be mean sorry....

i mean yeah overall u kinda summed it up lol. i don't think i'd really care much about taylor swift were it not for the way she's been branded as some sort of groundbreaking feminist and subsequently played into that perception to profit ("the man" makes my eyes roll out of my skull sorry...)

i think my dislike of her was first seeded when "you need to calm down" came out--before then i just hadn't really cared abt taylor swift, knew a few songs but wasn't crazy about them, etc. but then she dropped "you need to calm down" and suddenly she was getting TONS of praise for doing SO much for the queer community and i was like. well first of all the song is bad second of all she's literally comparing her online haters to violent homophobes as though those two things are in any way equal or similar experiences third of all she's getting praised for profiting off positioning herself as a #ally. like this song and music video are not some sort of feminist praxis they are a way to funnel money into her already bulging pockets.

but because literally everyone around me (many swiftie friends) was gushing over how amazing she was for hiring all those dykes + faggots to dance behind her i felt like i was being gaslit + the fact that taylor swift was just happily accepting the money + accolades at the same time made me dislike her

when folklore came out i actually did enjoy the album which was. the first time that's happened for me lol i usually like maybe one or two of her songs and think the rest are mediocre at best but i was like huh maybe she's like changing as an artist and sort of settling into a new groove that's kinda cool. and then i didn't like evermore as much but i was still like okay cool new sound new vibe. and then she dropped midnights and i tried really hard to like it for my swiftie friends but...honestly i was shocked by how bad it was lol. just felt like a new level of low in terms of bad lyrics and the music was incredibly bland and boring to me, nothing new or interesting going on there. and then i felt gaslit again by all the swifties raving abt the lyricism of lines like "draw the cat eye sharp enough to kill a man" like!!! babe that is a tumblr post from 2014...

but aside from finding it genuinely incomprehensible that she gets so much credit for being an amazing writer or lyricist when the bulk of her discography is simply incredibly mediocre or straight-up bad imo (bc honestly that alone wouldn't be enough to make me dislike her; ik these are all subjective measures so even if i find it annoying to hear people rant + rave about music i think is bad it's not gonna make me dislike the artist or the people raving necessarily) what bothers me more and solidifed my dislike of her is the continuation of the way she acted when "you need to calm down" dropped. which is to say, it's infuriating enough that her fandom has sainted her, but what's more infuriating to me is the she seems inclined to play into that sainthood.

she often leans in to portraying herself as either a victim of misogyny or a #girlboss feminist. and like--this isn't to say taylor swift hasn't experienced misogyny, or that she shouldn't talk about those experiences, or that rich white women are exempt from sexism. but her feminist consciousness seems to begin and end with her own personal experiences of sexism, with no effort at a deeper political engagement made. she flies her private jet around and poisons the environment and when people try to call her out for it she sits back and lets her fans accuse anyone that criticizes her of being sexist. in fact, it seems that any criticism of her is met with accusations of sexism, which is an infuriating obfuscation.

at the end of the day, her politics such that i have seen are incredibly liberal and toothless, and her feminism seems largely focused on making herself more money ("the man" being about "getting ahead" faster, the whole thing with that one guy owning her masters centering around a dispute over property + who gets to make money, etc). she is a capitalist first and foremost, and because of that her feminisn kind of sucks, so i hate seeing people treat her as a Feminist Figure. i also think the gaylor thing is sooooo stupid and annoying and reinforces the concept of identity first and foremost as a discrete ontological category rather than something socially constructed + materially rooted. like the idea that taylor has some mystical gay Essence inside her that exists regardless of how straight her music + lifestyle is, the makes her Queer--sorry but give me a fucking break lol. i don't give a shit if she kisses other girls, taylor swift is not a Queer Icon, and i don't understand why people desperately scrabble to find proof that she is when there are already plenty of openly gay pop singers!

in conclusion taylor swift is the epitome of #girlboss liberal feminism to me and her supposedly genius music being aggressively mediocre is just the icing on the cake lol

[misc-obeyme]

THE THREADS THAT BIND

CHAPTER SEVEN

MASTERPOST for summary/info/chapter list

a/n: My demon OC makes an appearance. What can I say, I saw the opportunity to use him so I did. I hope you can tolerate his presence for a couple chapters lol. This chapter only has him in it briefly, but the next chapter involves him more.

GN!MC x Barbatos | word count 1,024

Warnings: Spoilers for OG OM Season 2, demon OC

You were sitting in class at RAD, Barbatos beside you, when Solomon walked over to you both, sitting across from you at the table.

"We need to cut the threads," he said without preamble.

You frowned. "How are you supposed to cut magic threads?"

Solomon took something out of his uniform and placed it carefully on the table before you.

You couldn't help but gasp. You felt Barbatos reach out to grab your hand, holding on tight. You weren't sure if it was because he was afraid you would pick it up or because he was trying to reassure you.

"The Night Dagger," you said as memories of the time you nearly killed yourself for Lucifer's sake flooded your mind. The Ring of Light on your finger seemed to burn slightly, as though aware of the way it had saved you from taking your life with the dagger that sat on the table now.

"I'm sorry, MC," Solomon said, frowning. "I know this dagger doesn't bring you any good memories. But it's the only thing that's strong enough to break those threads, even though it still isn't at full power. I don't think anything else can do it."

"Are you certain about this, Solomon?" Barbatos asked. "That sorcerer…"

"I don't know Tobias personally and he's impossible to find," Solomon said. "He's shielding himself from being found with magic. But there are a few people in the Society who will still talk to me. Apparently, he's known for adding his own twists to spells. I have reason to believe that there's a counter curse he's created for this particular one. This is the only way I can find that will allow us to break the curse without it."

You were about to respond to this when a fellow student sat down at the table next to Solomon.

You recognized him as a demon that was in a few of your classes and you knew his name was Arsenios. He was tall, thick, had light brown skin, and wore his RAD uniform neat, but with the jacket open, revealing a pair of black suspenders. He had long hair that reached almost to the middle of his back with shorter strands framing his face. It was mostly dark brown, almost black, but streaked through with a vibrant dark red. His eyes were dark purple with a circle of dark grey.

You didn't know Arsenios very well. In fact, you didn't think you had ever really spoken to him before. He wasn't in many of your classes and he didn't show up to them regularly. When he did, he was mostly quiet, his mind seemingly somewhere else.

"Hey, guys," he said. "Sorry to interrupt. I need to talk to you and it sounded it like you were already on the subject of Tobias, so I figured now was a good time. You're talking about the sorcerer, right?"

"Hello, Arsenios," Barbatos said. "That is indeed who speak of."

You weren't too surprised that Barbatos seemed friendly with this demon. Barbatos seemed to know everybody.

"That guy summoned me to the human world and tried to make a pact with me," Arsenios said.

You exchanged a glance with Barbatos, who was no doubt concerned about this.

Solomon frowned. "Why?"

"He's been trying to force Barbatos into a pact for ages, but he hasn't been having any luck," Arsenios said. He looked at Barbatos. "He thought he could use me to get to you. He knows we're friends, thought he could get me to lure you to him."

Barbatos's grip on your hand tightened.

"So did you make a pact with him?" Solomon asked.

Arsenios snorted. "Please. You think I'd make a pact with a little punk like that? No way. I wouldn't make one with you, either, would I? No offense, Barb."

Barbatos only inclined his head in acknowledgment.

Solomon put his hands up. "Ah, my apologies! Of course you wouldn't do something like that."

Arsenios stood up. "I thought you'd wanna know, Barbatos. That sorcerer really wants to go back in time and I don't think he's going to stop trying any time soon."

You all exchanged looks as Arsenios returned to a nearby table.

Solomon looked straight at Barbatos. "Once again, I have to ask. Why didn't you tell me sooner about all of this?"

Barbatos frowned. "And as I already told you, I have had no issues handling it myself. It simply wasn't worth mentioning."

Solomon leaned toward you across the table. "That's his way of saying he didn't want to worry me about it."

"Are you sure he's not saying he thinks you couldn't take Tim in a fight?" you asked.

Solomon leaned back and looked at Barbatos again. "That's not true, is it?"

Barbatos did not respond.

"Barbatos?" Solomon asked.

You shook your head. "So what, now we have to use this knife? I didn't even know you still had it."

"I couldn't just leave it sitting around," Solomon said. "I've been keeping it safe."

"Is there really no other way to do it?" you asked, looking at the dagger as though it might come to life and destroy everything any second.

"Not without the counter curse," Solomon said.

You shuddered. "Put it away, won't you?"

Solomon took the Night Dagger off the table and tucked it back into his uniform.

"What if we just… talk to him?" you asked.

Solomon watched your face for a moment, then he laughed. "Of course you would suggest something so diplomatic. The problem is that we don't know where he is."

"There may be a way to find him," Barbatos said.

You felt Barbatos finally ease up on your hand, though he didn't actually let it go entirely. You didn't mind. You twisted your hand to lace your fingers with his, not looking over at him as you did so. You were going to take advantage of this moment to simply feel connected to him. Though you weren't sure why you wanted to feel this way considering you were connected already by the threads of the curse. You pushed that thought aside and focused on the upcoming class.

masterpost | chapter one

chapter six | chapter eight

masterlist | Thank you for reading!

[voraciousvore]

The Giant (6/16)

***Contains mouthplay and sex! 18+ only!***

------Chapter 6------

When we got back to Chester's house, he started to prepare dinner early, since he told me it would take a while to cook. As I sat on the counter watching his every move, I noticed how skilled he was with a knife as he chopped and peeled some giant carrots. I had to admit he was a talented cook. The food he had prepared for me always tasted amazing. I supposed such a characteristic was in line with his gluttonous inclination. I wondered to myself, with a twinge of anxiety, if he would want to eat me tonight. Although I wasn't as afraid of him as I had been before, the prospect of being inside his gigantic maw again still made me nervous. I was uncomfortably reminded that he was still a predator, and I was still his prey.

I pushed those feelings to the side and tried to keep myself composed. The giant mixed all his food ingredients together in a big pot and left it to simmer on the stovetop. He grasped me in his hand and went to his study to write. I watched him type for a while and wandered the desk again until I got bored.

"Chester?" I asked. "Can you open up one of those books for me so I can read?"

"I'd be my pleasure, darling." Chester paused his typing for a moment to get me set up with a book of my choosing. Naturally, wanting to know more about the world I found myself in, I chose a history textbook. Chester opened the book flat on the desk to the first chapter and occasionally helped me turn a page, although I was technically able to move the cumbersome pages on my own. Reading took me longer than usual since the book was so large, I had to physically traverse the page to read the whole thing.

I read about how the giants had once lived in the human world, in the days when both humans and giants were less numerous. The giants made their homes on the fringes of society, since they were not welcome with the humans, primarily in secluded mountainous regions that were too difficult or inhospitable for humans for access. Due to limited food resources, however, they had to regularly make their way to coastal areas to hunt for sea monsters, which were large enough to adequately feed them. Apparently other giant species of mammals lived in the mountains that they could dine on as well, but these creatures were eventually hunted to extinction. As food sources dwindled the giants fed more and more on human societies, despite the danger that humans posed.

According to the history text, humans in these times possessed potent magic that could even rival the power of a hungry giant. Human civilizations were protected by magical barriers and other spells, but giants would still eat stray travelers who passed through unprotected areas. Eventually, humans declared war on the giants and used their most powerful spells to slay many of them. The giants retaliated brutally and wrought devastation on human settlements. The cycle of slaughter continued for a long time until both parties begrudgingly accepted a truce. The human wizards would use their strongest spells to create a realm for the giants to live in, away from humans, which became the Land of Giants. However, this compromise came with huge costs for both parties involved. The giants would be banished from their homes, and forced to live where they could no longer partake in their favorite food, humans. The humans, for their part, would lose all their magic and their best wizards. The magic required to create the Land of Giants and transport all the giants there drained all the magical reserves of the human realm to virtually nothing. Furthermore, the only spell strong enough to transport all the giants required the wizards to go with them, essentially forcing the wizards to sacrifice themselves for the sake of humanity. Nevertheless, the solution was vital to prevent the eventual destruction of both sides.

Interestingly, the history book delved into the religious beliefs of the giants as well. The giants had been created by God to act as stewards of the earth, and to keep the human population under control. They had betrayed their purpose when decimating the human cities and hunting the other giant animals, both the mountain and sea monsters, to extinction. Thus, their banishment, and their constant cravings for human meat which would be denied to them, were just punishments for their gluttony ordained by God. This belief was an important reason why the giants had accepted their fate in the first place, rather than continuing to fight the humans.

So, if I were to believe everything that I read in this book, the lore that Chester had told me was true. However, such a tall tale beggared belief, and left me with just as many questions as answers. If these stories were reality, why weren't the giants, or magic for that matter, mentioned in any human histories? Magic and giants were considered myths by modern humans, fit only to grace fantasy stories and fairy tales. Obviously, as unbelievable as the notion was, giants existed. Did that mean that magic was real too? How did it work? Going by the book, magic was eradicated from the human realm. Did that mean my only way back home was gone forever? Was there still magic present in the Land of Giants? What caused the lightning that teleported me here? Was that magic?

"Chester?" I inquired. "What do you know about magic?"

Chester stopped typing. "Not much," he responded. "Giants aren't able to use magic, only humans are. I've never seen it used in my lifetime, so I don't know."

"Oh," I sighed softly. Chester continued typing again.

After typing for a while, Chester said, "Sorry, I wish I could tell you more. Perhaps sometime we can go to a library and read up on it. Although, that wouldn't be safe for you, being around other giants and all." He finished up his work and put his computer to sleep. "Dinner should be ready by now." I hopped into his gigantic hand and we went to the kitchen. Chester prepared me a miniature serving of stew and grabbed a giant bowl for himself, along with a glass of the same red wine he had the night before. When I asked for a sip of wine, he delicately gripped me with his finger and thumb and dangled me over the glass so I could drink.

As I dug into my portion, I noticed warily that Chester wasn't attacking his dinner with his usual enthusiasm. He picked at his food, mostly opting for big gulps of wine instead. In apparent contradiction, I could hear his stomach growling under the table. Resting his chin in his hand, he eyed me as I finished my share of the stew. The giant didn't say anything but I knew what he was thinking. Perhaps in his reticence he was trying to be polite, or respect my wishes, but ultimately, he wanted to slurp me up with his meal. I appreciated at least that he didn't demand that I jump into the bowl outright.

I cleared my throat. "Do you want me to...?" I trailed off, unable to finish the sentence. Chester cocked his eyebrow expectantly. I pointed at the big bowl of stew. The giant grinned, showing off his enormous white teeth, and nodded deliberately. My courage faltered. I grimaced, looking down at my clothes. "I should probably change into the clothes I wore yesterday so this outfit won't get ruined," I remarked.

"I'll go grab them for you," Chester declared, getting up out of his chair. As he raised himself to his full height, I felt my heart flutter, and a very strange idea came into my head. Perhaps a terrible idea.

"Wait," I uttered, scarcely believing I was crazy enough to go through with it. The giant paused and looked all the way down to me, his shadow casting over the table. I gulped nervously and licked my lips. He slowly lowered himself back into his seat, not breaking eye contact. "I could just..." My heart was pounding against my ribs, but not from terror. Chester looked mildly confused but also intrigued. "I mean... I don't really need clothes at all, right? If they'll just get messed up anyway."

Chester raised his eyebrows in surprise. "That's... that's true." He ran his tongue over his teeth. As the idea sank in, his face twisted into a ravenous smile. "You'll taste a lot better too." My face reddened. He sat back in his chair and crossed his arms. I took off my shoes and socks, then stood on the table awkwardly with my bare feet.

"Go on," Chester encouraged. As he watched, I removed my shirt. I unbuckled my pants and let them drop. I was only wearing my undergarments now. Then, in a flash of boldness, I cast off my bra and panties. Chester leaned forward over me. Though he didn't speak, he was already devouring my body with his hungry eyes. I huddled my arms against my comparatively diminutive form. The giant reached out his huge hand, as if to grab me, but stopped before his fingers coiled around me.

"May I...?" he inquired, looking slightly embarrassed.

"Yes," I responded quietly. I expected him to pick me up in his hand, but instead he gingerly stroked my naked body with his finger, tracing my feminine curves. He held his face so close to see all the details that it eclipsed the rest of the room. I could feel his warm breath washing over my skin. I looked into the deep pools of his eyes as they wandered, so close up, admiring the flecks of gray and gold amidst the shades of green, surrounding the deep black holes of his pupils. His gigantic hand gently wrapped around me, lifting me over to the edge of the dinner bowl. I carefully lowered myself into the stew, somewhat relieved that I could hide my nakedness. The stew was nice and hot, like a jacuzzi. I treaded over to the center of the bowl and floated in the thick liquid amongst chunks of meat and vegetables.

I tried to act nonchalant, but the truth was I was highly aroused. I wasn't used to such admiration and attention, especially from a giant man, larger than life, that I was very attracted to. I had always been insecure about my looks, since I was not all that pretty or skinny. Perhaps the exorbitant size difference made it harder for Chester to see my imperfections, since I was so small. Maybe he had been interested more from the perspective of curiosity or novelty, rather than sex appeal. It's not like a massive giant and a miniscule human could engage in sexual acts together anyways... right?

While I was lost in my thoughts, Chester had in the meantime consumed several bites of stew, and was making his way towards me. He scooped me up in the spoon with some liquid and brought me up to his mouth, then paused. He pursed his lips, and I assumed he was going to sip the liquid from the spoon. Instead, much to my surprise, he pressed his plush lips against my body in what could only be described as... a kiss. A pleasant, soft kiss. I was expecting to be eaten and instead I was kissed. For a moment I was too stunned to react. The giant mouth curled into an amorous smile. I reached forward, holding his lower lip in my hand, and planted a kiss of my own on his lip in return. His lips parted, and the lines of teeth separated, releasing a breath of air. I was greeted, yet again, with the fleshy interior of his mouth, and the dark void of his gullet, but unlike before I felt no fear. Gently, the spoon entered his mouth and deposited me on his enormous tongue. The jaws closed around me, enveloping me in the familiar wet darkness inside his body. The giant's tongue undulated beneath me, rubbing my small frame lightly against his molars and the roof of his mouth. This time, more than merely tasting me, I sensed as if he were trying to feel every inch of me.

Per the norm, the giant swallowed every bite of stew while maintaining my position in his mouth. He mostly just gulped down the solid pieces without chewing them, although occasionally played with them with his teeth. Surprisingly, armed with the knowledge that I would not be harmed, I actually didn't mind much being in his mouth, as long as the experience didn't go on for too long. I knew the giant genuinely enjoyed the flavor, so the fact that he was happy made me happy. He hummed deep in his throat with pleasure, then dumped a torrent of wine into his mouth. He swirled it around in his mouth a bit, creating a small whirlpool, then guzzled it down his throat.

After a few more spoonfuls of stew, the giant appeared to have finished his meal, and was rolling me around on his tongue as he had done the last time. Unlike before, though, he manipulated my body into an upright position and pressed my back carefully against his front teeth. Confused, I stood in the red flesh in his maw that was normally underneath the tip of the tongue, a puddle of drool up to my knees. I could feel his blood pulsing through the veins leading to his gums on my back. His huge tongue reared up in front of me, then caressed my shoulders, my bare breasts, my stomach, working its way down until it reached my thighs. The tip of the tongue pushed my legs apart and forced its way in between. When the realization hit me what he was trying to do, I almost shoved his tongue away, but stopped myself. I was... enjoying the act. His tongue rubbing in the middle of my legs was awakening a strong physical response. I'm sure he could taste it too. The puddle of saliva I was standing in deepened. The formidable tongue pushed up into me, lifting me up while still pressing me against the front teeth. The sensation was utterly bizarre, unlike anything I had experienced before, yet still unexpectedly arousing. A low moan welled up from the giant's throat, vibrating through his mouth; I suppose he was enjoying himself as well.

When I felt that I had had enough, I patted his tongue with my hand and pushed it away. I didn't have sufficient strength to force it back, but Chester seemed to understand, gently moving my body until I was sitting on the middle of his tongue again. He separated his jaws and inserted the spoon to help me get out. I mounted my shiny silver chariot and covered my eyes as I was brought back out through the teeth into the bright light of the dining room.

Chester licked his lips. "That... wasn't too much for you, was it?" he asked cautiously. His cheeks were burning.

I giggled. "Not at all, although it certainly caught me by surprise." I bit my lip. "Now it's my turn, right?" I stood up on the spoon. Chester raised an eyebrow. I looked down over the side, making sure I wouldn't fall into the wrong spot, and boldly jumped off the spoon, missing the edge of the table and landing in the giant's lap. Chester dropped the spoon in shock. I heard the spoon clatter on the table above.

"What are you-" Before he could finish his sentence, I had already crawled down into his pants. As I suspected, he was already fully erect. Better yet, I was already lubed up and ready to go, my whole body soaked with saliva from being inside his mouth. I hopped on his penis, which was of course much bigger than my entire body, as if I were riding a horse. I went to work, using the full force of my limbs and body to jerk him off as best I could. I could feel the blood rushing to his member as his heart rate quickened. His breathing grew heavy and fast and he fidgeted in his seat, moaning softly. Being inside his pants was stifling and hot, and I started to sweat from the exertion, but I threw myself into my work with enthusiastic vigor. His vocalizations, muffled by the fabric surrounding me, grew louder. All at once I felt him stiffen and erupt, letting out an ecstatic groan. I couldn't believe it: I had made him orgasm. As his member started to soften, Chester reached into his pants and pulled me out.

"I can't believe you just did that," he stated, incredulous. "But I must say, well done."

"You did get me turned on," I admitted, laughing.

"I think we both need to get cleaned up now," Chester remarked wryly. He walked to the bathroom and turned on the faucet for the bathtub. "Would you like to... take a bath with me?"

"Sure," I replied, blushing slightly. He set me on the bathroom counter, which was cold after being intimately acquainted with the heat of the giant's flesh. However, despite everything that had transpired, I had yet to see him naked. He unbuttoned his shirt and peeled it off, revealing his gigantic torso. He was neither fat nor thin nor muscular, but rather strongly built and healthy, with a crop of hair sprouting from his chest. As he moved I admired his muscles flowing under his skin. Next, he removed his pants and underwear, exposing thick hairy legs. Overall, his body was very well-proportioned, broad and thick and strong. Personally, I thought he was very sexy.

Chester offered me his hand, and I stepped into his palm. Setting me down on the side of the tub, he moved his huge leg up and stepped over the wall into the tub, following up with his other leg. Watching the powerful movements of his giant naked figure left me drooling. He settled his massive bulk into the water, which as the bath was still filling up only came up to his belly button. I excitedly jumped in next to him with a splash. I was eager to get clean, sure, but I also wanted to explore his nude physique. I swam over to his belly and beached myself on the plushy surface. Since the giant was inclined back, I was able to scale his body, like climbing a living mountain. He watched with amusement as I trekked up his titanic frame, past his stomach and chest until finally I perched on his shoulder.

"Having fun?" Chester laughed. He grabbed some soap and lathered it on his arms and torso. I took the opportunity to slide down his slippery arm and landed in the bathwater with a splash. As I resurfaced, his giant hands suddenly snatched me up and rubbed soap all over me. I giggled as his massive digits explored my curves. He brought me up close to his face so he could see me better and smiled. I rubbed soap from one of his fingers on my face. He playfully tossed me back into the water and I shrieked as I plummeted through the air, although of course I was safe. After I rinsed off Chester placed me on his knee and offered me a dollop of shampoo on the tip of his finger. I gratefully took it and we both washed our hair. I used his leg as a slide and splashed back into the water to rinse myself off again.

As the giant continued to wash himself, I used his body as a playground until I wore myself out. Then, I floated on my back in the water, gazing at the colossus stretching far above me with wonder. So much had changed in such a short time, but I still marveled at his incredible size. Once he was finished, he scooped me up out of the water with his hand, so I was laying flat in his palm. He wrapped me up in a big fluffy washcloth and set me on the counter. After we dried off and changed, Chester carried me to the bedroom and once in bed I fell asleep on his chest again.

Chapter 7

Chapter 1