#and doing shit w the array

[trickinabucket]

Coding is funny as fuck (while ur not doing it.) i was trying to get something to work and it had been like an hour+ before i tried something else, longhand. (But simple way, so I still kiiinda saved some time?)

Ed was in the room w me and hearing me bitch and cuss and plead to the fucking computer, occasionally injecting jokes in my miserable fit.

I figured out what it was, faced ed, sneered and put my head in my hands. Told them, “I figured out the answer.”

Ed waited for me to continue, because what the fuck does that mean when u dont code.

Then, I said: “I don’t like the answer.”

[taniushka12]

north-west of the farm array

[omgeto]

☆ COVER UP — tattoo artist!GETO SUGURU

summary: all you wanted was a cover up tattoo to replace the name your ex left on you. you didn't think you'd be leaving the tattoo shop with a replacement for your ex's tattoo and a replacement for him as well.

wc: 3k

cw: afab!reader, geto gives you backshots, he's kinda obsessed w/ your ass here, unprotected sex (since I forget condoms) BUT he's a gentleman pulls out </3 your kinda a meanie. he's kinda a meanie so light angst (?) but barely. MDNI

an: haven't posted a longer work in a hot minute, but here is how you meet tattoo artist boyfriend!geto soooo give this one a chance big fanks to my lil twat @kazushawty for helping me out and reading bits of it.

as you push open the heavy glass door of ‘cursed ink studios,’ a subtle bell chimes softly, announcing your presence. instantly, the atmosphere inside crackles with an electric charge. the air is thick with the intoxicating scent of ink, mingling with the sterile bite of antiseptic. the walls are adorned with vivid flash art form a chaotic tapestry, while the rhythmic hum of a tattoo gun echoes through the room.

and there he is, geto suguru – a tall, enigmatic figure with jet-black hair and sleeves of mesmerising tattoos that seem to tell stories of their own. he sits at his workbench, surrounded by an array of ink bottles and tattoo machines, his piercing eyes never leaving the art he's creating. a carefully curated playlist of music plays softly in the background, punctuated by the occasional buzzing of the tattoo gun.

he glances up from his intricate work as you enter, his gaze slowly travelling up and down your form. there's a hint of curiosity in his eyes, as though he's wondering why you, of all people, have ventured into his sacred space. his expression, however, suggests that he's far from thrilled about the interruption.

"need something?" he asks, his irritation evident.

"i need a cover-up” you swallow your nerves, holding your head high, your voice steady, ”my ex's name."

geto raises an eyebrow, seemingly unimpressed by your request. "ex's name, huh? you people never learn."

your jaw clenches at his condescending tone. "well, i'm here now, so can you do it or not?"

he continues to scrutinise you, his gaze feeling like a judgmental weight. finally, he nods, albeit reluctantly. "fine, show me."

with a sigh of resignation, you turn around, your heart pounding as you pull down the waistband of your jeans just enough to reveal the offending name covering your left ass cheek. it's a constant reminder of a relationship gone wrong, and you're more than ready to be rid of it.

"this won't be easy," he mutters, his fingers cool against your skin as he traces the outline of the name. his touch lingers, just a little too long, sending an unexpected shiver down your spine. his fingers, skilled and confident, continued to trace the inked letters of your ex's name on your skin — almost toyingly. and you could feel the chill of the tattoo parlour's air-conditioning contrasted by the warmth of his touch.

his voice, though still gruff, held a trace of disgust "who did this?" he asks, not looking up from the tattoo.

you hesitate, your memories of that past relationship flooding back. "my ex-boyfriend," you reply tersely.

geto's fingers stop their tracing, and he lets out a low, almost imperceptible sigh. "you let your boyfriend do a shitty tattoo on you, and you let him make it his name," he mutters, more to himself than to you. "you practically let him brand you."

“is it your job to be such a bitchy artist?” you snap, already fed up by his comments. you’ve heard it from your parents, your friends, ever since you got that trashy tattoo. but couldn't disagree with that sentiment — you knew it was a shit tattoo. “i thought i was paying you for your artistry, not your smart mouth.”

"listen," he growls, his voice low and dangerous. "you walk in here with that god awful mess on your skin, and you've got the nerve to criticise my attitude? if you want to be rid of it, you'll do well to keep that attitude in check, sweetheart."

you bite back a retort, realising that you've indeed crossed a line with your comment. there's a palpable tension in the air now, a simmering anger beneath the surface, and it seems that geto has no intention of backing down.

with a deep breath, you swallow your pride and offer a reluctant apology. "i'm sorry," you mutter, a touch of remorse in your voice. "i shouldn't have snapped at you."

he continues to hold your gaze for a moment, his expression still stern, before finally nodding. "apology accepted."

you didn’t actually have an idea of what you wanted for the cover up, you just knew you needed it gone. geto was a highly sought out cover artist so you had no doubt that he’d be able to do you good. with your initial meeting being heated, you thought it was best to leave him to do his thing.

with a sense of relief that the confrontation has subsided, you decide to give geto some space to work his magic. "i'll leave you to it," you say, your voice quieter now, and you turn away from him.

"good," he mutters, his focus fully on his ipad as he starts to sketch, not even looking as you leave the shop. 

geto usually was quick to draw up tattoo sketches for clients, but when it came to you he was stunned — too busy thinking about how your ass looked rather than what he was meant to tattoo on it. from the moment you stepped in his shop, he was intrigued, you didn’t see the type to get work done by him and the marking stretched on your ass didn’t seem like it would belong to someone with an attitude like yours. 

his mind was anything but focused on the design. he couldn't help but replay the encounter with you in his thoughts, your brashness and the way you'd stood your ground, even under his scrutiny.

"why the hell did she get that shitty tattoo?" he mutters to himself, his fingers deftly working his pen. the sketch was beginning to take shape, but his mind kept drifting back to the curve of your ass. he couldn't deny the attraction he felt, and it frustrated him. he was supposed to be a professional, detached from his clients beyond the art he created on their skin. but something about you had thrown him off balance.

“so you ready to get this tatted on you?” is the first thing he asks when you return the following day. you inspect his sketches in awe, of course you never doubted his talent but you didn’t think he’d be able to draw something you wanted without you even having to say.

“well it seems you do live up to your reputation,” you comment with a neutral facade, but you both know that you were downplaying your excitement — you were pleased. and like with any client, that made geto satisfied that he was doing his job correctly. but when he saw the way your eyes lit up when he initially showed you the sketches, it was a sight he wanted to see again. “i guess we can start the tattoo.”

“okay i’ll get my stuff set up, get rid of those,” he says nodding towards your jeans, “and lay down when you’re ready.” you slip yourself out of your bottoms, leaving the itty bitty thong that you knew you’d need for the appointment and that a small part of you hoped he liked.

he pauses when he sees you laying down on the seat in his station, your head resting in your arms, your ass slightly raised.  ‘this is gonna be a long session,’ he thinks to himself as he smirks, shaking his head as he works his way to his seat.

as he sits down, he places the stencil over your ass, and you berate yourself for getting giddy at the feeling of him rubbing over the design to make sure it was in place — wishing that his hand stayed for longer. 

“how are you with pain?” he asks, and from the way you were laying you weren’t able to see the way he was gawping at your ass.

“what type of pain?” you retort.

“y’know the type of pain where someones drilling into your ass for hours,” he comments as if it’s obvious but you both knew his words were hinting at more than just the tattoo.

“choice words there,” you muse, “but any type of pain i’m alright with, so give me your best.”

geto's needle hovers just above your skin, poised for action. "you sure about that?" he murmurs, his voice low and suggestive.

a coy smile tugs at your lips as you respond, "I can handle it if you can."

with a deliberate, almost tantalising slowness, he lowers the needle to your skin. the first touch is a sharp, stinging sensation, but you refuse to flinch. you're determined to hold your own, to meet geto's challenge head-on.

he continues to work, the needle dancing across your skin with a practised precision. the room is filled with the rhythmic sound of the tattoo machine, creating a hypnotic backdrop to your growing tension.

as minutes turn into hours, you find yourself lost in a strange mixture of pleasure and pain. the pain is undeniable, but there's something oddly exhilarating about it. you steal a glance at geto, his intense focus on his work, and you can't help but wonder if he's enjoying this as much as you are.

"still doing okay?" he asks, his tone a mix of concern and something more primal.

you bite your lower lip, suppressing a moan that threatens to escape. "i told you, i can handle it."

geto smirks, his gaze locked on your ass as he continues to tattoo. "you've got quite the threshold for pain. impressive."

“is it really? i'm sure you’ve worked on a lot of other clients with higher thresholds for pain.”

“but none of them have had an ass like yours though,” he mumbles to himself — but you hear him loud and clear, a grin forming on your face at the confession. “anyways, we’re all done now, go ahead and look in the mirror.”

you stand in the full length mirror, your head slightly turned at an angle as you gawp at your ass. your eyes widen seeing what was once your shitty exes name, now turned into a piece of true art. 

“so what d’you think?” he asks, and you didn’t even notice him coming to stand behind you until you felt his breath on the back of your neck, “this shit is hot right?”

“you can say that again,” you agree, keeping your eyes focused on the tattoo, trying to ignore the quickening of your heart beat at the presence of him, “this is really great though, like i couldn’t imagine my ass could look this good after having that tattooed on on it all his time.”

“well no need to imagine anymore,” geto’s face forms a smiling grin, you can tell he was admiring way more than just his artwork, “you mind if i take a picture… for my instagram?” he says, barely asking as his phone is already out of his pocket and is in his hands, he looks up at you for permission and you give a slight nod before he’s snapping away at your ass.

“are you sure this is for your instagram,” you tease, as he continues to take photos crouched down, as he circles your ass with his phone, “or is this just for your personal wank bank?”

“would you like it to be?” he retorts back swiftly, there wasn’t even any mischief in his eyes as he looks up at you, just pure lust.

“um i–” you stutter, only now feeling exposed — as if he hadn’t been working on your ass already for the past six hours.

“don’t get shy on me now,” he coos, standing up to face you head on, “y’gonna let me finish off making you forget that ex or yours or what?”

“be my guest,” you respond, trying to come across as nonchalant, but the eager look in your eyes gave geto all he needed to know. 

he pushes you softly, as he commands, “hands against the mirror and spread your legs.” and you do just that, as he comes behind you, fitting in between your legs perfectly. his hand forces ur back down, deeping the arch of your spine before both of his hands grab onto your ass.

geto really rubs and digs his thumbs into your cheeks, biting his lip at the sight at the way his fingers mould into your ass. “fuckk man,” he groans out, he’s not even in you yet and he was already obsessed with every inch of you. 

he frees his dick from his pants, and pumps it quickly before sliding it across your already gushing slit. you hiss at the contact, a pleased smile working its way on your face as the tip of his dick edges into you.

“s-shit,” you stammer, as he inches himself into you deeper, “w-what about the rest of the shop?”

“what about them?” he shrugs, “you don’t want them to hear naught you’re being right now? HEY GUYS—”

“oi,” you hiss out, your eyes widening as you turn your head to look directly at him.

“i’m just playing, i’m not ready to share you quite just yet,” he retorts, his dick moving in you at an achingly slow pace, “now, keep your eyes focused on the mirror, and you better not let those hands slip.”

before you can respond, he thrust his hips into you as deep as he could, his dick slamming into you. you moan out at the surprising force, trying your best to keep your palms flat on the surface of the mirror, as you stare straight at him — watching how he works his hands from your ass to your hips so he can drive into you with all of his force. 

“this pussy is s-so fucking good,” he praises, the sloppiness of your cunt making it easy for him to slide his dick in and out of you. “oh and this ass,” he continues giving a hard spank on your ass cheek, to emphasise his point, “c’mon throw your ass back on my dick, i wanna see it bounce.”

you fuck him back, doing exactly as he says, your ass meeting his hips with the same amount of force. his spanks encourage you to be quicker, to give him everything he wants. his repeating, strong strokes, have you feeling weaker, your hands slipping as you try to stay up right, when all you want to do is collapse and cum everywhere. 

“f-fuckk it’s too much,” you whine, as he drills into you.

“nah,” he says, shrugging his head, “it’s not enough,” he lifts up his legs, his digits pressing into your deeper, as he now angles his strokes even further into your pussy, hitting your spot with ease. “give it to me harder, i know you can” he encourages, another two swift spanks landing on your ass.

with his continuous contact of your ass and his hips, and the way his dick pushes into you deeper, you felt like you were splitting in two. but you kept going, thinking back to your earlier conversation, you didn’t want to prove him wrong, you wanted to show him that you can handle it, handle him.

geto was practically beaming, licking his lips feverishly at the sight of your fucked out face through the mirror as he watches himself plough into you, your body rocking forward with every thrust. his eyes concentrate on your ass, as he says, “d’you see how your rocking my work on you now?” and you nod dumbly, too busy trying to reach your climax to string a sentence together, “so fuck that ex of yours and his shitty ass tattooing, from now on you only can me on your body, you got that?” he asks and you nod again, but he shakes his head, his hand moving from your waist to your chin as he grips it making your eyes stay locked on his through the mirror, “i said do you got that?”

“ahhh s-shit yet i do, i do,” you say, mirroring his words, “i will only have you on my body, ‘promise.”

“good girl,” he approves, giving your chin a squeeze before letting go, “now cum.” 

with those simple words, you release all over him, your stance getting weaker, as you shoot out cum all over his dick. he’s quick to pull out of you though, stroking his dick as he sprays his cum all over your ass, with a deep groan.

your hands are still on the wall, as you take deep breaths, trying to recollect yourself. but you turn around swiftly seeing a flash of a camera behind you, and geto is back to crouching down, with his phone out, taking pictures of your cum covered ass.

“you mind if i keep these in my wank bank forreal this time?” he asks, smirking as you nod, “i’ll take some more later, but i got two questions to ask.”

“and those are…” you say, prompting him to continue.

“first, let me take you out after this?” he asks with a smirk, already knowing the answer. after the way he just dicked you down, you’d be a fool not to let him wine and dine you, “second, y’gonna come suffocate my face with that ass of yours or not?” you couldn’t even answer the second question since he’s pulling you down to the floor with him, with a joyous grin on his face.

AN: IGNORE THE FACT THAT HE CUMS ALL OVER UR FRESH TATTOO. LIKE JUST IGNORE IT. just focus on the fact that you have a lovely ass and geto loves it too. but yes do you want to see more, I HAVE ENOUGH IDEAS TO EVEN MAKE A LIL MASTERLIST FOR IT. I love tattoo artist boyfriend!geto so so much, like when u guys become an established relationship it actually gets so good. BUT I DONT REALLY LIKE THIS ONE, BUT IF U GUYS FW IT I PROMISE ILL ACTUALLY WRITE AND POST THE ONES I LOVE. BUT I FELT LIKE I HAD TO WRITE THIS FIRST SO YOU COULD SEE HOW U AND GETO STARTED. LMK UR THOUGHTS

[xervn]

𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐧 🔧

oneshot | mechanic ellie x reader

ao3 link

summary: your car breaks down in the middle of nowhere, but thankfully ellie shows up and offers her help

18+ MDNI | 6.3k words | tags; modern au, porn w/ plot (like 70% is plot tbh), kissing, vaginal fingering, pining from reader? arguably, no use of y/n, not proofread

my first post on tumblr EVER and my first time seriously writing smut, so pls be kind!

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It’s midday and you’ve been driving down an isolated road in fuck-knows-where with the hopes you’ll be able to find a gas station in at least 15 minutes. You’ve been driving down this straight road for what felt like ages now, your only surroundings being orange-colored sand and leafless plants. 

Never in your life has driving made you more anxious, it was like you were in charge of safely disarming a bomb. You gripped the wheel and glanced at the gas gauge occasionally, each look wearing your hope thinner. You were supposed to fill your tank before leaving, but it wasn’t in your plans to get lost in the first place. You knew your incompetence would catch up to you eventually, but you didn’t think it’d be now. 

Your teeth grit against each other as you raced against time. You desperately repeated affirmations, hoping they would help you along the way. Maybe if you ignored the fact you could be stranded, you’ll get to your destination faster. 

My gas is NOT running out…

I will NOT have a mental breakdown…

I AM responsible…

Not even a good moment later, the engine starts sputtering as if you called it upon yourself. You desperately tapped at the fuel gauge, resulting in the amount dropping drastically. To your surprise, it’s been showing the wrong amount the entire time. You drove towards the side of the road so you could let the tank run out while you spit out a colorful array of obscenities. There was no doubt in your mind that this might be the worst day of your life.

You slammed at the dashboard of your piece of shit, beat up, 2012 Toyota Tacoma with unprecedented rage, dropping your head onto the steering wheel in defeat. The depleting noises the engine made as it slowly died only added to how you were feeling. Your face heated up and your eyes brimmed with tears; not because you were sad, but because you were so damn pissed.

“Fuck my life...” You sobbed out, forehead pressing harder into the wheel. 

The sudden blaring sound that came from the car’s diaphragm jolted you up and caused you to yelp out. Everything’s silent for a while— you included— like a city before a tsunami attacks or the quiet before a dam bursts. In proper fashion, you unleashed a waterfall of tears; slowly, but surely, turning into a wallowing mess. Tears, snot, and saliva everywhere all because you made an irresponsible decision and drove a terrible car to make irresponsible decisions in.

Out of frustration, you honked some more, beating at the wheel’s center like there’s a solution inside of it. Certainly, this wasn’t the best way to handle your situation, but it was the only thing you had the energy to do. Amidst all the beeping and profanities, you failed to notice a car pulling up beside you. They honked their horn in unison with yours and the harmony caused you to frantically look around for the source.

You turned to your left and your gaze was met with a green set of eyes. It only took a second longer for you to realize who or what was looking at you. A woman with short auburn hair and a freckled face was shooting you a concerned glare.  

All that was running through your head now was that a woman was looking at you and the manic episode you were having would undoubtedly scare off any future prospects. As your stomach turned into knots of shame, you muttered a low swear and quickly wiped away the remaining tears on your face. 

You took a deep breath and calmly rolled down your window, which took an agonizingly slow amount of time. You occasionally spared the woman a few awkward glances with an equally awkward grin. Your humiliation built up along with the comically loud sound coming from the rolling window. After what felt like an eternity later, the window finally rolled down and you looked up to meet the woman’s gaze again, further examining her features.

Right there and then, you swore your heart fell out of your ass. You never thought you’d find yourself saying something so cliche, but the lady was a sight for your teary sore eyes. She was wearing a simple gray tank top, which showcased her spectacularly shaped arms and tattooed forearm.

The sight of her alone made you question your sanity. Maybe you were imagining her to make you feel better? You wouldn’t be surprised if you did.

 As you looked up at her even more attractive face, you noticed her scarred brow was perked up, which could only mean she noticed you staring, and based on the subtle curl at the corner of her lips; she found it amusing too.

 Your face instantly warmed up. You needed to defend your ogling quickly, but before you could manage out a single word, the beauty beat you to it.

“Are you okay?” The woman questioned, the slight lilt at the end of it only deepened your embarrassment. It physically pained you to imagine how much of your breakdown she saw.

“I’m fine, I was just...” You couldn’t finish your sentence, so you let out a sheepish laugh to fill in the space. 

“You sure? It looks like you’re having some trouble.” The woman gestures her head at your car as she speaks, not breaking a second of eye contact. 

You chewed on your lip, nervously shifting your stare before admitting, “Uh, yeah. I ran out of gas...”

“Looks like it slightly inconvenienced you.” 

A subconscious scoff fell from your mouth as you lazily gestured around you. “Slightly?”

“Just a guess. I could hear the honking a mile away.”

“Yeah, well, that’s the only thing that works on this junk.”

The woman let out an amused hum, casually glancing at the road behind her before turning to you again. “Did you already call for help?”

“Nope...” You responded, your eyes still wandering off.

 The woman idly wet her lips in thought before driving up the road. For a moment, you thought she rudely left you stranded on the side of the road, but after carefully looking, you noticed she was driving a tow truck. 

Your previous thought that she might be a figment of your imagination immediately came back, because what the hell? A real-life angel came to save you at your lowest. She parked in front of your car and stepped out of the vehicle and you peered out the window of yours, shamelessly following her movements in awe.

She was slim, lean, and held an average height. The jeans she was wearing fit her so nicely, you actually had to pinch yourself to stop looking. 

You reached for your rearview mirror and pointed it towards yourself, making sure most of your makeup was intact. Much to your dismay, your eyeliner was smudged, and your lip gloss was wiped away. So, not only did she watch you wail like a baby, you looked like one too. You glimpsed back at the woman, making sure she wouldn’t catch you in the act of dolling up for her. 

You stepped out of the car after quickly fixing your makeup, a bit shy to face the woman now. You weren’t particularly dressed like you were ready to do any flirting today, sporting a white graphic crop tee and distressed blue jean shorts. Nonetheless, you fidgeted with your clothes before approaching her. 

She double glanced at you as she moved stuff off the truck’s ramp, eventually blurting out, “I don’t have any gas in my truck, and uh–“ She abruptly stopped her action to look at you as she spoke, “– there’s no gas station out here for a while, but I have a garage not too far away.” 

“You’ll help me? I mean, is it okay? I don’t wanna shit on your plans.” You asked, but mostly out of decency. You needed the help after all. Plus, your only other option was to wait for another mechanic instead of just going with this extremely hot one.

She grinned and nodded a few times reassuringly. You found that every little motion she did melted you a bit. Just the tease of a smile from her could turn you into pudding. “It’s no problem, I was headed there anyway. It’s not every day I get to rescue a damsel in distress.” 

You bit down a bashful grin as you muttered a thanks and she told you to wait in the passenger seat. When you walked off, you swore you could feel her eyes burning into you. You couldn’t tell if it was a phantom feeling or if she was actually staring you down, but every inch of you hoped for the latter.

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You took a look around your surroundings. The car smelled like diesel and marijuana, but you weren’t expecting much from a tow truck. There was a cute 3D dinosaur pendent hanging off the rear-view mirror and the car had small handmade stickers across the dashboard. 

Before you could look any further, the woman stepped into the driver’s seat and started the car. She just hooked your car up to hers, so she had to take a look behind to make sure it was in place, setting her tattooed arm on your headrest as she did so. Your heart skipped at the closeness and all you could do was stare at her like a dork.

It was slightly perverse how much you enjoyed staring at her face. You’ve seen beauty before, but she was a discovery. Another plus was that she smelt really good. She didn’t wear a sweet or flowery perfume. She wore something earthier, and it blended in perfectly with that slight hint of gasoline. The best way to describe it is that she smelt like a pinewood air freshener in a new car but fucking hot. 

The woman caught you off guard with a glance, her own face a bit shocked to find you looking at her. You quickly averted your gaze and eyed the road up instead, pursing your lips together as if nothing happened, attempting to ignore the shame away.

You were obviously embarrassed, and that usual mortified feeling washed over your body. She didn’t laugh or anything, but as she retrieved her arm and put her hand on the wheel, you nervously glimpsed at her face and saw a small, smug smile. 

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The drive was painfully quiet. All you could hear was muffled crunchy sounds of the road and the humming of the truck’s engine. You sat there, fiddling with your shorts as you slowly zoned out.

“Where are you headed?” The woman blurted out, causing you to abruptly turn her way. She was still focused on the road ahead, so you took the time to peer at her side profile, in which you deemed needed to be framed and hung up in an art gallery.

“I’m going to see my family upstate for the holidays.”

“How long have you been driving then?”

“About... three hours.”

“Three hours and you didn’t think to stop for gas?” She huffed out a melodic laugh and peeked at you. You’d let her tease you as much as she wanted as long as you got to hear that laugh again. 

“I thought I had enough! My stupid tank was reading wrong.” You responded, puffing your cheeks out at the thought.

“I’ll fix that too then.”

“That’d be appreciated.”

“Why’re you driving that old thing anyways?”

You shrugged as you spoke out, “Well, I’m a college student and it’s better than nothing.”

“Really? What’s your major?” She looked at you for a moment with genuine curiosity. It didn’t feel like she was just looking for small talk.

Her interest was comforting, but you were slightly wary to say it. Your major didn’t necessarily scream out sexy like psychology or law would. You hesitated before slowly speaking out. “… Astrophysics.” 

You knew the chances of her having any idea what your nerdy major was about was incredibly low. You bit your lip as you waited for the awkward ‘oh’ or ‘cool’ that usually comes after. 

“Astrophysics? That’s actually fuckin’ sick.”

Your brows rose in shock, never expecting anyone to respond that way. “Yeah, I like space stuff... I guess...”

You rubbed your forehead at your dull awkwardness and the woman let out another satisfying laugh at your lack of explanation. “That’s one reason to get into it. I like space stuff too. I think constellations are pretty neat.”

You smiled to yourself at her sincerity, and consequently, the thought of stars perked you up in an instance. “Me too! I had the perfect view of Aquila from my backyard growing up.”

“I’m jealous. I struggle connecting them myself, so I just go to that one space museum in the city to look at ‘em. But, fuck, if I could see– I know this is basic, but– if I could see Ursa Major with my own eyes?”

“You haven’t? The Big Dipper is one of the easiest to find.”

She chuckled before she spoke. “You’ll need to help me find it then.”

Help her find it? Lay underneath the stars and connect them with her? It was a very nice thought in your head, but you’re 100% sure she said it without thinking. You expected the previous silence to continue after that until she broke it again.

She was clearly embarrassed by herself, twisting her lips before finally saying something. “My name’s Ellie, by the way.” 

You sheepishly responded with your name and Ellie subtly smiled as she continued to drive down the road. 

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You guys pulled up to the driveway of the mechanic garage. There was a large decal with ‘MILLER AND CO’ over a wrench painted on the metal doors. The area was just as deserted as the road you guys drove on, minus the few farms around now. 

“Is this yours?” You asked.

“Nah, it’s my dad’s. I try to enjoy it like it’s mine though.”

“Has this always been what you’ve wanted to do?” You wondered out loud, only to feel regretful after. You didn’t know her, and you were already asking personal questions. The slim chance she’s suddenly put off by you made you wanna curl into a ball and cry.

“I mean, I always wanted to be an astronaut growing up, but that was never in the cards for me. Things changed when my dad adopted me, I was practically glued to him. I did everything he did.” Ellie freely answered and it dropped your worries instantly. You found her openness incredibly attractive. At that moment, you could feel yourself yearning to learn more about her. “I still love everything about space though, don’t get me wrong.”

“And dinosaur stuff too?” You cheekily queried as you pointed at the rearview chain.

Ellie glanced at the cutesy decor and chuckled. “And dinosaur stuff too.” 

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After getting the cars into the garage, Ellie steps out of the car and walks over to your side. You watched curiously as she strolled to your door and popped it open for you. 

You stared and she stared back expectantly, gesturing for you to hop out. You smiled slightly at that, and Ellie smiled back. God, you could watch her smile for days on end.

“You can sit anywhere, it shouldn’t take too long.” Ellie said as you stepped out, closing the door behind you. 

You turned to face her before continuing the conversation. “Thanks again. Also, err... how much is it gonna run me?” Your teeth clenched a little as you asked. It wasn’t the first thing that you wanted to say, but you weren’t made out of money. I mean, look at what you were driving.

Ellie snorted at your expression and shook her head. “Don’t worry about it.” 

In response, you gave a doubtful look. There was no way she was this kind and wanted nothing in return. 

Leaning against the truck door, Ellie playfully rolled her eyes. “I’m serious. This is my good deed for the month.”

“Nothing? Nothing at all?” You quizzed, your brow perking curiously.

“Nothing at all. But if you insist…” She went on, looking off as if she was really changing her mind.

“No! No... Thank you.” You blurted.

You cursed yourself at how vulnerably broke you were being, and Ellie smiled wider than she had before. Once you caught onto that smile, your eyes latched on. It was only natural to stare at her teeth, her lips, wondering how they’d feel on yours; if she’d smile between her kisses. 

You quickly snapped out of it before you spiraled any further, but clearly not fast enough. 

“You have a staring problem, y’know?” Ellie stated, slightly tilting her head as she let her eyes travel over your body. A stare for a stare if you would. 

“I wouldn’t say it’s a staring problem.”

“If it’s not staring, what is it?” She asked with her eyes locked onto yours.

“Admiring?”

Ellie was slightly surprised at your sudden boldness, her smile faltered for a millisecond before quickly returning. 

“Hm, I could say the same.”

She basically confirmed she was also checking you out. Meaning, you had a chance. You looked away as you blushed fiercely, and in the corner of your eye you could see Ellie doing the same.

You don’t know when it started, but the vibe between you two became pleasantly tense. Any previous worries and doubts that Ellie might not like you vanished. You clearly had a chance with her, and you planned to see how far your luck would go. She turned away to clear her throat and pushed off the truck. You decided to move away yourself, finding a nice chair to settle yourself on. 

The spot you sat at put Ellie in your direct line of sight. You should probably call your family and tell them you’d be running late, but you were comfortable where you were. Ellie was incredibly captivating; you wouldn’t mind trailing her with your eyes as she did simple tasks like filling up gas for the rest of your life. She was like a really good fucking movie.

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Thirty minutes into your imaginary film, you thought the picture quality was getting better, but you discerned it was just Ellie getting closer. 

She rubbed her oiled hands off her shirt as she approached you. “Can you help me with something? I j–“

You sprang up to your feet before she could finish speaking. You didn’t need to hear what she had to say next. It wouldn’t hurt for her to see how interested you were.

Ellie went wide-eyed at your eagerness, shaking her head lightly. 

“You could’ve let me finish talking first.” She said with a subtle, taunting smile.

“I didn’t need to. I’m already getting serviced for free, so I’ll gladly do it.”

“Getting serviced, huh?”

You smiled coyly at Ellie as you recognized the implications of her childish repetition before correcting yourself. “I’m already getting helped.”

Ellie retained her smile as she turned back to the car, gesturing for you to follow her with one of her stained hands. You followed her over to the driver’s side of your truck where she knelt down and shifted an arrangement of tools on the cement floor. 

“I need to fix the wiring underneath your car to fix the fuel gauge. If you could hand the tools to me when I ask for ‘em, that’d be great. Can you do that for me?” Ellie questioned in a honeyed voice. She looked up at you, waiting for your answer; a cruel grin barely tugging at the corner of her lips. 

You only nodded as her stare left you too flustered to speak. You knew the intentions from her tone of voice alone and, boy, did it work. She was teasing you again, but even more obvious than the last. 

She fixed a set of tools on a white cloth, setting the toolbox open and nearby as well. You weren’t stupid, you can tell what almost all the tools were. Driving a car you do; it was only a matter of time before you had to do temporary repairs yourself. However, you realized the opportunity you had laid out in front of you, and you were most definitely gonna take it.

Ellie spoke as she retrieved a tool from the box, glancing at you to make sure you were following. Of course, you made sure to pay attention fully. 

Her gorgeous green eyes laid upon your dreamy lash-filled gaze up and you could read the subtle fluster off her face. “This is a ratchet. I.. I’m sure you know that already though.” Whatever you were doing was working and Ellie’s little stammer was evidence.

You looked at the tool and pushed out your full, bottom lip, slightly shaking your head. “Nope. I do now though. What’s next?” You immediately resumed your gaze at Ellie before you could even finish speaking. 

She grinned and it was clear she didn’t believe you, but the look in her eyes had a mischievous glint in them; so you knew it was definitely safe to continue. 

“Alright, princess. This? —“ She paused to pick up another tool mid-sentence, and the break gave you just enough time to process the panty-soaking pet name. “— Is a screwdriver. The pointy end screws things in.” 

You didn’t bother to look at the tool this time, making sure every inch of your face was telling her you wanted her to screw you in. 

“Uh-huh.” You nod with your eyes glued on Ellie’s.

Ellie laughed lightly with a new tone to it. You couldn’t describe it if asked, but you could describe how it made you feel. It took everything for you not to clench your legs together to relieve your now growing pressure.  

“Are you keepin’ up with me?” She said, teasingly. 

You grazed your teeth along your bottom lip, and you hummed in response. Ellie licked hers like an effect from your cause before she continued to school you on the tools she needed. 

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You two engaged in the flirty lesson until it eventually ended, and she left to fetch a garage creeper from a tool station nearby. 

Ellie set it at the side of the truck, where the driver would be, and sat down and laid back on it. You were sitting on the floor by the tools now, so you could easily watch her work. She rolled backwards and underneath the car, adjusting herself on the trolley by sending her hips forward so sexily you wondered if she did it on purpose. In that motion her top rode up a bit and since you were so close, you could ogle up her midriff freely. 

“Screwdriver. Enjoying the view?” Ellie suddenly quizzed.

Without a second thought, you handed her the screwdriver only taking a moment longer to register what she said after.

By now, you felt less embarrassed by Ellie catching you staring since she obviously enjoyed it. “The view? The view is nice.” 

“Just nice?”

“The view is really nice. Amazing, even. It’s a nice area, I might even move here.”

Ellie huffed out the faintest chuckle. “Are we talking about the same thing?”

“We are, don’t worry.”

“Feel free to admire all you want then.” You could tell she was smiling as she said that despite barely being able to see her face.

The light banter you guys shared gave you twinkles all over your body. You wondered where this all might lead to. Perhaps nothing at all, or, as you hoped for, her number at least.

Ellie tosses the screwdriver to your side with a low hum before holding her hand out. “Pass me the torque, please?”

You reached into the toolbox, staring dumbly at the items. It seems you might’ve really needed the walk through after all. Along that tutorial you failed to learn what the hell a torque could be. “Let me try to find it...”

You looked through some more, trying to see what method could help you single out this torque. Meanwhile, Ellie rolled from underneath the car and sat on the creeper, rolling forward and towards you. You were so caught up in Ellie’s request, you failed to notice her presence.

 When you finally chose a tool, Ellie’s hand happened to land onto yours. You and Ellie shot each other surprised glances and Ellie eased the tension with a subtle smile. She pulled her hand away, but not fully nor quickly. Not quickly at all. 

In fact, she lingered like she wanted you to remember how her fingertips felt; slowly sliding her digits up the back of your hand. Just like that, everything felt like it was in slowmo. Everything but your heart, which was beating faster by the second. You knew you had to pull yourself together quickly. This moment could potentially make or break��something.

“I found it.” You spoke out so lightly it could be mistaken for a whisper, peering your eyes into Ellie’s green pair. You didn’t have any expectations for what would happen next, but you were practically shaking from anticipation.

“Took you long enough. Do we need to go over it again?” Ellie responded just as low as you spoke. The husk and tease around her words made you clench around nothing, embarrassingly so. 

You didn’t let that stop you, however, letting yourself indulge in her teasing for your own guilty pleasure. “Maybe… What’s this again? A hammer?”

Ellie grinned at your faux naïveté, her head cocking to the side. “I know you’re smarter than that.”

“I just need a quick reminder.” You grinned back as you spoke.

“That’s not what you really want though, is it?” Ellie’s smile faded into a less prominent, yet more seductive one. 

You could swear up and down her eyes flickered down to your lips a couple times, so you naturally started leaning towards her. 

What you failed to realize was that Ellie had already started to lean towards you. She dropped off the creeper, decreasing the distance between you two dramatically. She leaned herself against her hands and spread her legs, leaving you kneeled between them. There were no coherent thoughts in your mind, but you finally had an expectation and that was Ellie’s lips on yours. 

Your lips collided and your eyes fluttered shut. You instantly dropped the torque back in the box and stiffened a bit, not sure if this was really happening or not. However, whether it was real or not, you wanted to do a good job. 

The kiss started off slow, testing the waters. Ellie’s smooth, gentle lips made you feel tipsy along with that smell you loved blocking your senses. You were completely intoxicated.

Ellie slid her palm on your hip and gradually roamed the small of your back. The sudden touch shot electricity through your body. She was balancing herself on one hand now, but she attentively stayed on your lips. You couldn’t stop the greed for more rushing through your core even if you wanted to. You placed your hand on the nape of her neck, desperately bringing her in to deepen the kiss. 

You could feel the grin etched into her lips and it only drove you further. She obliged to your wishes and parted your lips against hers with minimal effort, easily intruding the tip of her tongue between. Your tongues slid and ran across each other sensually, and the messiness of it all had you sopping where you knelt. Too lost in the moment, you accidentally let a low moan escape. If Ellie couldn’t tell how needy you were, she could tell now. 

She slowly broke away from your lips, and it left you both panting heavily. Your face, confused, and hers, studying. Did you turn her off? Did you do too much when she was probably expecting something less? You tried to avoid her eyes, too disappointed with yourself to look.

Ellie didn’t let the eye-contact break, following your eyes with a worried expression. “Hey, hey... It’s alright. You’re not in trouble.” Ellie said, letting out a cruel laugh at the end.

You frowned at the teasing this time and your embarrassment was even more evident.

Ellie took your expression in consideration as she leaned in to peck the corner of your lips. The gesture eased your worries, but you were unsure of how this would turn out. She gave you a brief smile before finally saying, “Are you sure you wanna do this?”

You nodded your head slowly and Ellie frowned at it. “I need words.” She said, more sternly than you’d expect. 

She was quick to get a few words out of you. “I… I want this.”

“That’s all I needed to hear.” She replied, leaning in to connect lips with yours again. You didn’t realize how much you missed that contact until you felt chills run through your body. 

You missed her lips on yours despite only kissing for so long. The hand Ellie had placed on your back drifted lower and grasped your ass, earning a moan from you, which Ellie took great pleasure in hearing and feeling. 

By now, your knees were starting to hurt, and it took a lot of restraints not to topple over Ellie. However, you refused to move your lips from hers, you just got them back. 

Unfortunately, Ellie must’ve noticed your stubborn shuffling since she pulled away despite your muffled protests. 

“Let’s move somewhere more comfortable.”

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Ellie cracked open the door for you to a small lounge space and placed a quick apologetic kiss on your lips before walking off. She had noticed her handprint smudged on your shorts on the way to the lounge and it reminded her that she had to wash the car grime off before doing anything more with you. At this point you were so pent up you probably wouldn’t mind. You decided not to dwell on what risks you’re willing to take to fuck Ellie and sat yourself on a brown couch that felt a lot comfier than it looked. The vibe of the room was similar to Ellie’s car minus the smell of weed. Speaking of smells, it smelled just like her. 

Thoughts of Ellie panting and briefly taking your lips between her teeth flashed through your mind. The vividness, considering it just happened, made the heat between your legs increase. You instinctively pressed your thighs together and fought the urge to take care of yourself right there and then. 

Thankfully, Ellie strolled into the lounge and shut the door behind her, and it finished with a lock click. Your eyes met as she strolled towards you, plopping on the couch next to you.

Ellie opened her mouth to say something, but you didn’t want to hear it. Not right now. You cupped her face and pressed your lips into hers and you shut her up instantly. She leaned over you, pressing you back into the couch. Amidst the smacking and passion of your mouths against each other’s, Ellie’s hand drifted up your waist; thumbing along your skin. Everything was so hot and cloudy now; you couldn’t think about anything other than how good you feel. 

At some point, Ellie’s leg was kneeled, and her thigh was wedged between your legs. You only became aware of the new positioning after accidentally pressing yourself against her. You were laid down on the couch, completely dazed with Ellie hovering over you. She noticed you coming back to reality and grinned smugly as she moved her hand underneath your top and groped at your breast. You arched into her touch, keening, and Ellie rewarded the sound by rubbing her thigh against your clothed clit. 

You gasped sharply and the brief friction had you bucking for more. Your barely audible pleas must’ve triggered something in Ellie as she bent down to kiss you, taking your lips between her teeth. The feeling is even better than you remembered.

The intensity of the kiss is wet, hot, and you can’t remember when you last took a breath. You placed your arms over Ellie’s shoulders and lightly ran your fingertips along her back, rolling your hips into Ellie’s thigh. You were so close, so close until.. you suddenly lost contact. Ellie moved her right hand to your hip, gently pinning you down so you couldn’t move as she placed her thigh out of reach. 

She has pulled away from you too often and you weren’t going to back down quietly this time. You broke off from her kiss-swollen lips, rather reluctantly, and begged. “Ellie! Please… just—” 

Ellie shushed you and whispered directly into your ear, her breath hitting your cheek and sending shivers down your spine. “I’m gonna fuck you myself. Be patient.” 

You weren’t gonna argue. You wanted that. You wanted her. Ellie moved her hand from your hips and went to loosen the button of your shorts. She moved her legs so that yours were fully between hers. You unwrapped your arms from her shoulders and helped her tug your shorts down urgently, lifting your hips to speed the process. 

Ellie positioned herself so she could tuck your knees in. She parted your legs and leaned back, taking a moment to appreciate how wet you were for her; your slick heat coating your underwear, glistening, all for her to see. It would’ve embarrassed you in any other instance, but you were so filled with lust, none of it mattered. 

She pressed her thumb against your clit, through your undoubtedly soaked panties and peered down at your face: brows furrowed and brimming with want. Ellie wasn’t gonna make you wait any longer. She moved the fabric out of the way and finally rubbed your bare clit with the pad of her thumb. You panted heavily, moving into her touch. 

Ellie leaned towards you, turning her wrist clockwise and dipping her fingers between your folds, rubbing your labia between her middle and ring digits. You groaned out and quickly pulled up your top and tugged your bra underneath your tits so you could grasp at the sensitive area. 

Your wetness coated Ellie’s fingers perfectly and it was only a matter of time before she fucked you with them senselessly. She coaxed your clit between her fingers, and although you were too wet for much friction, the pressure was just enough to get you there. 

You fondled and squeezed at your chest, pinching at your nipples as your eyes clenched shut; concentrating on that release you needed so badly. Ellie was practically salivating at the sight, still hunched over you and getting off from the look of you alone. 

Your much anticipated orgasm rolled through you, crashing in like a wave. You moaned loudly, arching your back and rolling your hips forward.

 Ellie slowed down and helped you ride out your orgasm before suddenly slipping both fingers into your entrance. The sudden intrusion made you whine, and Ellie dipped down and pressed a kiss on your cheek. Your eyes were brimming with tears, but you needed her to move. You needed her to fuck you badly. 

You squirmed under Ellie and she placed her free hand on the cheek she kissed, thumbing along it as she cooed at you teasingly. “Shhh.. You’re gonna ruin the makeup you fixed just for me.”

Ellie’s thumb creeped towards your swollen and gloss-less bottom lip, the aftermath of rough, sloppy kissing. You mouthed out a ‘whoops’ and faked a pout. 

Ellie laughed as she gazed down at you. The sight of her flushed red, freckled cheeks smiling down at you only made you want her more. Ellie felt your need squeeze against her fingers, and she made sure that you��knew she knew by glancing down at her fingers filling your cunt. She bit her bottom lip and decided to give you what you wanted, slowly pumping her fingers in you. 

You keened colorfully, raising your tucked knees and wrapping your legs around Ellie’s waist. You needed her deep. She picked up her pace and curled her fingers, hitting that soft wall. She was doing everything right, there was no doubt in your mind she was an angel, a sexually experienced one at that. You pulled her down, meeting her halfway so you crash your lips into hers. 

Ellie moaned over your lips and, god, you were so close. She slid a third finger in you, pumping and curling her fingers; knuckles deep. You were so close you were seeing stars, it made you think back on the little conversation you two had in the car and you wondered if this is what she meant. Then just like that they fucking connected. 

You cried out as you came, tightening your legs around Ellie’s waist as you gushed over her fingers. She kept her fingers in you until you finished. Once Ellie pulled out, you groaned from the loss and she muttered out an apology.

You gave her one lingering kiss before plopping back down. You were utterly exhausted and aching. Aching... pleasantly, but that wasn’t the point. Your mind slowly started recollecting everything that happened. You were just fucked by a hot stranger you met in a town you still don’t know the name of.  You’re not sure you would’ve remembered after this anyways. 

“Usually I would help clean up, but...” Ellie gestured around her. You almost forgot you guys were at the back of a mechanic’s garage. 

You snickered and nodded understandingly. “Right. I know.”

You two stared at each other awkwardly despite what occurred not even five minutes ago. Ellie ruffled with her hair before speaking out, “So… Can I take you out sometime? When your trip is over?”

You pushed up so you were at eye-level with her. “I... I think we’re past that, but yes. Yes, you can.” You leaned in for a kiss and she returned it with a grin.

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click 4 bonus!

[penny-anna]

hi guys!! guess who got more transformers fic recs!! including some WEIRD SHIT!!

Electric Chapel by DesdemonaKaylose

You are cordially invited to the WEDDING of our esteemed LORD MEGATRON and SOME LITTLE GUY HE FOUND IN A BOX.

Megatron attempts to marry Rung. Rung is highly desirable. Skywarp and Thundercracker eat teacups. delightful.

Working Through It by Trinary

“TC,” Skywarp says, “I’m, like, ninety percent sure that humans don’t have interface cables.” Thundercracker squawks and almost knocks him over trying to get the script out of his hands.

robot/robot/human threeway w plug n play interfacing. GOOD robot action.

they say some things just don't wash out by harperuth

The data continued to coalesce with every passing moment he could watch Rodimus and still he couldn’t come to a conclusion. By all accounts it didn’t make any sense. - - - Or, Ultra Magnus struggles to understand Rodimus and his unorthodox fueling habits.

nice little UM and Rod fic!!!

Creep Down the Alleyway, Fly Down the Highway by Nathrakh_Red

Tracks was laughing in a way that’d be sarcastic if it was anyone else, in a way that might’ve ruffled Raoul's feathers if he hadn’t gotten used to the fact that Tracks laughed like a wealthy woman drank— haughtily, self-possessed, and so as not to cause wrinkles. Two different Tracks/Raoul fics!

WAUGHHH!! *biting and chewing these two*

Feel How It Feels by autoschediastic

But Optimus said, "That would be helpful," and a weirdly pleasant warmth spread through Lennox's gut.

some good transformer & human content for u

don't mean to brag, but my bandwidth is fat by harperuth

“Kid,” Ratchet ex-vented, “Did you listen to anything I just said?” Tailgate’s visor flashed, for just a klik. First Aid almost thought it was a trick of the light, “Big war, modified interface arrays, do I want one, et cetera. I listened. And I said no.”

tailgate hot girl summer

Spike Seeks Valve by Baird Crevan (Baird)

“Your name.  Is.  Spike,” Skywarp repeated.  “Yes, that’s what I said!  I am Spike, ally to the Autobots, the defenders of Earth!” Skywarp trembled a little and made a weird giggling noise.  “Uh, wow.  That’s.  Erm, sorry Jazz, I gotta… I gotta steal your Spike.”

i already recced this one but my GOD is it funny

Bottom of the Line by Trinary

Skyfire’s been pining over his lab partner for too long. He could swear Starscream has a thing for him, too, but when they finally get together, it doesn’t go like he expects. Skyfire’s always been told the cold constructed were missing something. He just didn’t think it was this.

u like skystar?? TOP tier skystar right here. recommend watching 'fire in the sky' first if u haven't seen it. for full impact.

how to get away with murder by OccasionalStorytelling

First Aid: You want me to treat you like you’re disposable? I don’t know what kind of data I could have you analyze for me— Rewind: I want you to treat me like I’ve been disposed of. There’s a distinction. The only problem is, they get caught.

we are getting into the weird shit now!! heed the warnings on this one. outstandingly weird n messed up. i love Rewind.

For Educational Purposes Only by keelywolfe

no ao3 summary on this one. bayverse. Sam & Mikaela fuck in front of Ratchet for uhh research. i must stress that this fic is primarily about Ratchet and Mikaela matching each other's freak. i love when Mikaela gets to be a little weirdo.

Viviparity by nine_dandelion

Some things have never been within the purview of mechanical beings, but Cybertronians have always been adaptable. When Ratchet discovers a newly-ignited spark growing inside Rodimus, though, he finds his abilities (and patience) tested.

my friend sent me this one and i was like 'why are u sending me mechpreg' (she knows how i feel about mechpreg) and she was like no no trust me you'll like this one u know what?? she was right. go check it out.

The Way to a Mech's Spark (Is Through His Fuel Tank) by Trinary

Starscream and Skyfire set off on their first Academy mission, and Starscream doesn’t consider the logistics of fuel until much, much too late. Skyfire isn’t keeping it in cubes—it’s in his auxiliary tanks, and there’s only one way to get it out. Starscream’s plating heats just thinking of it. He knows he can’t ask without embarrassing himself. He can make the whole trip without refueling, right?

FABULOUS living robot spaceship specific kink. love it.

ok that's all for now!! wahoo!!!

[awoogayanderes]

A BIRTHDAY GIFT FROM OSAMU DAZAI

➪ sypnosis : waiting for dazai’s attention is like playing a game of cat and mouse.

➪ other notes : it’s a day late but it’s okay because i went on a shopping spree yesterday, ALSO, i have another chapter of convergence finished and ready to post but i’m waiting until i can finish writing the next chapter of between the floors so i can post them at the same time, non edited :3

tick. tick. tick. you look up at your wall clock as every second clicks on it. it was 11:48 pm, and on any other day, you wouldn’t have cared. but today was your birthday, a very special day for you. your phone is in your hand as you wait for a single call from someone, osamu dazai. surely he remembered, right ? maybe he was on a mission and just hasn’t had the time to call you.

you and dazai weren’t in a relationship…well not exactly. some could call it a situationship, others could call it friends with benefits. but you disagreed, dazai was just a complicated man. and you were always the one who was there when he had his moments of sadness. he would call you late at night and you would go over to his apartment, comforting him as you held his tall form in your arms.

you try to soothe yourself as your eyes flick towards the array of presents your friends had given you, but none of them matter when you’re waiting for dazai to call you, or at least send you a quick text. ten minutes go by, it’s 11:58 pm and your position on your couch hasn’t changed as you slightly tear up, he really wasn’t going to call ? you let out a shaky sigh. buzz. buzz. buzz. your eyes immediately widen.

you frantically pick up the phone, it was dazai, you quickly answer his call. “hello ?!” you say into the phone, a smile forming on your face as your lips wobble with happiness, all the doubt going away. there’s a few moments of silence that go by before dazai speaks up, “wanna come over ?” your smile falters, he hadn’t talked to you all day, and that’s the first thing he says to you, on your birthday…?

“w-what ?” you quietly say as you held your phone tighter. “feeling a bit lonely, you know,” dazai sighs into the phone. you scoff, he wanted your comfort right now ? “where have you been all day ?” you ask. “i was hungover so i took the day off,” he says, you can tell there’s a smile on his face as he says that. so you were wrong, he was sitting on his ass all day as you stupidly waited for a ‘happy birthday’.

you look at your walk clock, it was 11:59 pm, he really didn’t care, did he ? “dazai, do you know what day it is ?” you ask him, your eyes tearing up again, dazai call tell theres something off about you. “i’m sorry, pretty, but i don’t know what you mean, it’s tuesday,” dazai chuckles, making you let out a whimper, catching dazai off guard, but he doesn’t bring it up as a few moments of soft ticking go by.

tick. tick. tick. 12:00 am. “happy fucking birthday to me,” you whisper into the phone. oh, so that was what he forgot. dazai tries to recover by saying “you thought i forgot ?” he chuckles. “i have your present for you right now,” he lies through his teeth. “just cut the shit dazai…why is it that i’m always here for you and you’re never here for me,” you say, voice breaking as you tears fall down your face.

“i know you’re upset, but i’m not your boyfriend, don’t treat me like one,” he says, his voice dropping an octave. “then don’t contact me again, i’m not your girlfriend,” you seethe as you hang up. dazai looked at his phone before tossing it to the side as he sighs. you quickly block dazai’s number before crying yourself to sleep on your couch, realizing that dazai wouldn’t be apart of your life anymore.

[arc-misadventures]

Vtuber au ask. So we know that Weiss, Ruby and Cinder so far all have feeling for Jaune. Will be be seeing other members of team rwby, jnpr and cmen?

The VTuber: The Dragoness

A blank screen was all that was scene, an empty void of nothingness. Until a single spark flared to life in the centre of the screen before all was engulfed in flame, as the shadow of a burning heart stood alone before all faded to ash, and dust. Revealing a woman with vibrant violet eyes, and a dazzling smile. Wings stretched out, behind her, as a crown of horns rest upon her golden locks of hair.

For this was the dragon girl VTuber, DraGunShow.

And, the show was just beginning.

~~~

DraGunShow: Hello, chat~! How’s everyone doing this fine day?

DraGunShow show gave her chat a dazzling smile showing off her sharp canines as she watched chats replies come trickling in.

~~~Stream Chat~~~

ViciousDoggo: It begins!

Helios6291: Hello Dragon!

KnightsBannana: Our queen is here!

IdentifiableMistake: Hello girls~!

Quintix: Hello!

~~~~~~

DraGunShow: Hi everyone, it’s nice to see you too. Okay chat, for today’s show I have a special treat for you~! Well… more of a treat for me, but all of you will get a kick out of it!

Her radiant smile was infectious as her body moved about, letting her wings flap as her ‘girls’ jiggled to, and fro as she went in with her little plan for today.

DraGunShow: Okay, my dear friend, SushiandShibari gave me a challenge the other day, and it’s one that I must say I’m all fired up to do! My challenge is to flirt with everyone’s loveable knight, ErrantryPaladin. And, see if we can get him to blush! The nina cat bet I couldn’t do it, but I’m sure as hell bet I could! So, who’s ready to see their favourite knight blush up a storm?!

~~~~~~

FshOnLand: Oh hell yeah!

RubberDucky98: Let’s do this!

Venger: 5000 bits says she can’t do it.

Rightotheleft: I’ll take that bet.

Yenta: Another 5000 says she blushes first.

Tallai37: Gonna pass that to Errant’s stream then?

Venger: Sure, why not.

~~~~~~

DraGunShow: Ohh~! Do you have no faith in me chat? Please, this is going to be a cake walk~!

DraGun opened up the stream to show she already had, ErrantryPaladin’s stream playing in the background, he was playing another round of, Deep Rock Galactic, and had just finished a mission when, DraGun decided to call, VTubings most infamous heartbreaker.

Errant’s model look to the side as his eye brow shot upwards in an inquisitive, yet cautious manner.

Errant: Hello, DraGun. To what do I owe the unexpected pleasure?

DraGunShow: Okay chat here we go!

DraGunShow: Hey, Errant~! How’s to going?

Errant: It was going well, but now I have a sense of foreboding. Do you need something, DarGun?

DraGunShow: Hey, my name is, DraGunShow, but you can call me tonight~!

Errant: Eh?

DraGun was met with the lovely sight of, Errant looking at her with an utterly bewildered expression across his face. It was cute, but not what she wanted.

DraGunShow: Do you know what’s on this years Valentine’s menu?

Errant: What?

DraGunShow: Me-N-U~!

Errant face contorted into an array of wild facial expressions, varying from the confused, the pondering, to the clarification, and then back to the confused.

DraGunShow: Uhhh… I-I’m no photographer, but I can picture us together~!

Errant: W-What are you doing?

DraGunShow: Uhhh… shit… O-One moment.

Errant: Okay?

DraGun quickly muted herself as she turned to face her screen as he face fell as panic, and embarrassment set in.

DraGunShow: I fucked up!

~~~~~~

RohanasStalion: That was horrible

AledenTheon: crash, and burn baby

VicuousDoggo: abort abort abort!

Venger: So, do I pay Errant the 5000 bits then or what?

~~~~~~

DraGunShow: No! I can still do this! It’s just a little mess up! The bets not over yet! I CAN DO THIS!!!

Fire erupted from, DraGun’s model as she pumped herself up, she roared at her chat as her chat started to hype her up, and she quickly unmuted herself, and…

Errant: So what’s this bet of yours all about?

Stopped dead in her tracks as, Errant’s simple comment blindsided her.

DraGunShow: H-How did you know about that?!

Errant: Someone on my chat decided to make the same bet; ‘5000 bits says, Errant can’t make, DragonDeezBoobs blush.’ Is that why you were flirting with me earlier? To get me to blush?

DraGunShow: Ah-hahaha haaa… SushiandShibari made bet with me that I couldn’t get you to blush, and I bet I could. So…

Errant: And, what is the prize of you winning this bet; bragging rights?

DraGunShow: Uhh… Yeah pretty much. Bragging rights, and gloating that I could get you to blush.

Errant: Hmmm… Would you care to make this more… interesting~?

The way, Errant purred that last word sent a chill down, DraGun’s spine. On that filled her with excitement, and desire as he stared her down.

DraGunShow: Interesting how~?

Errant: Simple: We both tell pickup lines until the other pleads uncle, and the winner wins both the smug satisfaction of making the other blush, and admit defeat. And, the promised 5000 bits their chat offered. You game, or is the dragon afraid to be burned?

DraGun let loose a growl deep within her throat as she took the Paladins challenge with earnest gusto.

DraGunShow: I’m game! Ready to become a blushing mess when I break you down!

Errant: we shall see. Alright! Chat we are about to have our little duel. You shall be the ultimate decided on who the winner is. And, you also allowed to tell us any of your clever pickup lines in the chat. Unless that is a problem, Dragun?

DraGunShow: My chat vs yours? Sounds like fun, what do you say chat, up for a challenge?

~~~~~~

RubberDucky98: Yeah let’s do this!

Tallai37: We’re gonna wreck them!

Yenta: Anyone want to add to the betting pool?

Penguinwithagun: I’m down for 500!

Kachina: I can do a 100.

Venger: Let’s take them for every bit they have!

~~~~~~

Dragun smiled deviously as she stared at the wandering paladon as they prepared for the games to begin.

DraGunShow: Seems my chat is upping the wager.

Errant: So are my; hopefully they can forck over the bits when you lose.

DraGunShow: In your dreams pretty boy~!

Errant: Ladies first.

DraGunShow: Alright, I’m not feeling myself today, can I feel you up instead~?

Errant: Weak. Treat me like I am a pirate, and give me that booty.

DraGunShow: Arrgh me captain, der be dog shite over the starboard bow!

Errant: Oh, tough croud.

DraGunShow: If you were a flower you’d be a damn-delion~!

Errant: What are you some sort of cocky sixth grader? Hit me with something good!

Errant: Ahem, my turn. Do you know how to play, Titanic?

DraGunShow: There’s a game associated with the, Titanic?!

Errant: Yeah, it’s a simple enough game to play too; You be the iceberg, and I’ll be the, Titanic going down you~!

DraGun’s eyes flared for the briefest of moments. She cooed softly to herself as she watched how he could play with fire. No things we’re getting exciting!

DraGunShow: Tell me, do you have extra room in your mouth for an extra tongue?

Errant: Do you like bacon, DraGun?

DraGunShow: I love me a slice of bacon.

Errant: Wanna strip then?

DraGunShow: Eh? Ohhh… That’s bad. That’s really bad.

Errant: Yeah, it took you too long for you to realize it.

DraGunShow: My turn! That shirt looks good on you, as a matter of fact, so would I~!

Errant: Speaking of clothes, while you look absolutely gorgeous in yours, I bet you’d look divine without them~!

Dragun’s cupped her face with her hands as she reeled back, even if she tried to hide it, errant could see the red of her blush blooming across her face.

DraGunShow: You threw that back on me! That’s not fair!

Errant: Alls fair in love, and war my dear dragon.

DraGunShow: EEEEEIIII?!?!!

~~~~~~

Venger: I think we’re gonna lose this one pals.

Zathrian: the pool is at, 6380 bits.

TraiqKanti: He’s breaking her down.

AledenTheon: I expected her to be better at flirting.

IdentifiableMistake: Always the flitter, never the flirted.

Quintix: She is absolutely adorable though.

Rightotheleft: The clips that have been made will be fantastic!

Asrid: Here’s a flirt you can use, DraGun!

~~~~~~

DraGunShow: I recommendation?

DraGunShow: Hmm…

DraGunShow: Oh~! Fufufufu~!

Errant: Should I be nervous chat? I feel like I should be a little nervous.

DraGunShow: Hey, Errant~?

Errant: Yes?

DraGunShow: I’m no watermelon, but I have something pink, sweet, and juicy that I’ll know you’ll like. Oh, and it’s seedless, would you care to change that~?

Errant gave a low whistle as he looked away, a faint blush, but a noticeable blush spread across his face. She may be losing their little challenge, but that little blush was a win, and all wins in her book.

Errant: Now that’s quite the spicy pickup line. Better step up my game then.

DraGunShow: Bring it on, Loverboy~!

Errant: I will, but can you remind me later to hang up a photo that I have of you first?

DraGunShow: Y-You have a photo of me?

Errant: I do, but I keep forgetting to put it up; Can you make sure I remember so I can nail you against the wall~?

DraGunShow: Eh…?

The cold unwavering confidence he carried as he said that to her face broke her. She thought she was a strong girl who could make any man fall to their knees before her. But, he wasn’t any ordinary man now was he?

DraGunShow: O-Okay! A-Are you…?!

Errant: Hey question: You ride a motorcycle right?

DraGunShow: Y-Yeah…?

Errant: And, you of course grab the handle bar to ride it.

DraGunShow: Yeah, that’s how you drive any bike.

Errant: So, should I grab you by the horns to ride you then~?

DraGunShow: EH?!?!

And, with those few words. DraGun’s face erupted into a display of red as her hands swiftly covered her face as she become flush with embarrassment. The bastard was smooth, smoother than she exercised expected him to possibly be. And, as much as she enjoyed flirting with him, it was embarrassing as all hell.

DraGunShow: I give! I give! I-I-I can’t do this anymore! You win!

Errant: And, victory is mine! Pay up chat.

Errant hummed to himself as he say the donations from the looser flood in. This had been a fun little diversion in his opinion. However, he thinks he did more harm than good.

Errant: Uhh… DraGun…? Are you okay? Did I take it too far with the flirting? If so I’m…?!

DraGunShow: I’m fine?!! Great even! Congrats on winning! Goodbye!

Errant: Uhh… Okay, good…

A soft chime sounded as the call disconnected as, Errrant’s hand that was about to wave goodbye slowly fell, as DraGun’s swift, and sudden departure.

Errant: …

Errant: I think I have done irrevocable harm to her…

Errant: …

Errant: Okay… back to rock, and stone then.

~~~

DraGunShow had swiftly cut the call as she now hid with her face in her hands, and she screamed in embarrassment at what, Errant had done.

DraGunShow: If you were going to make a girl blush you could have least be a gentleman about that.

~~~~~~

Penguinwithagun: Isn’t that why everyone likes him though?

~~~~~~

DraGunShow: S-Shut up chat!

~~~~~~

Venger: Best 5000 bits I’ve ever lost.

TraiqKanti: Did she really lose the bet?

AledenTheon: Considering, Errant flirted with her, it’s a win.

Asrid: SushiandShibari’s bet was a fantastic idea.

~~~~~~

DraGunShow: NyanNinja?!!

DraGun’s model shot straight up, while her face was still flushed red with embarrassment, her eyes held a blazing bloody red. A setting for her model where she can make her models eyes change from their usual violet hue, to deep crimson to show that she was angry. And, right now, she was pissed.

~~~

Meanwhile on another, VTuber’s stream, SushiandShibari was playing a horror game when she got a sudden call from her friend.

SushiandShibari: Hmm? Oh, DragonDeezBoobs is calling me~! But, why?

SushiandShibari: Hey, DraGun, what’s up, do you need something?

DraGunShow: You’re a bitch!

SushiandShibari: Eh…?

And, as suddenly, and unexpectedly as she called she left, leaving a bewildered, and confused cat behind, leaving her with, but one question.

SushiandShibari: W-What… What the fuck was that about?!

\\\

Haaa… I lnew what, and how I wanted this done for days… but, it took me days to write it?!

Haa… enjoy everyone.

Oh! It’s AI art if you’re curious. I would have found a photo, but I couldn’t find one that fit. As sad as that is, I did get the, Dragon Slayer prompt out of it.

[yuurivoice]

Saw a goofball post about ASMR Roleplay, romantic plots, narratives, etc. and so on.

Let me share some of my philosophy with you as someone in this game for 7 years, 150k subs on YouTube, and who turned this into a lucrative business for himself. I say all that not to flex, but to assure you that maybe I know a little bit about what I'm talking about.

Audio Roleplays, ASMR Roleplay, etc and so forth is not some sort of rigid, strict thing. If you believe that content in this niche has to adhere to strict rules, structure, and expectations, you've already entered into this with strange expectations because there is such a vast array of ways you can go about presenting this content.

Some of it is slice of life moments in time with an assumed relationships between character and listener. Before narrative audios started to pick up steam, or rather, a handful of folks (myself included) developed followings centered on original characters and stories, the vast majority of creators in this space were just doing snippets of experiences. And, in case you were unaware, that approach is wildly successful. Boyfriend Experiences, audio smut, etc. has a much wider appeal at this time because a listener can drop right in and enjoy it.

If you have somehow deluded yourself into thinking that every audio has to adhere to strict narrative rules, be defined by conflict, or things happening beyond whatever the vibe calls for, you're willfully putting yourself and the niche in a box. Which is fine, but seeing people piss and moan about it is strange.

My approach has been to blend narrative series along with one-shots. One-shots serve as super self indulgent audios that aren't tied to the narrative and allow listeners to engage with some of their favorite characters they fell in love with in the narrative without furthering the plot.

Sometimes I play the game, explore tropes and clichés that are popular for the sake of taking a crack at it. Because it brings in new listeners who then become fans of my narrative work and creates genuine supporters of my passion projects.

And ya know? It fucking works. It works really well. I can drop a very straightforward, stripped down comfort audio with Alphonse like I did today and move listeners to tears. And then we can continue on with BitterSweet when I'm good and ready. It keeps the channel running, keeps the audience engaged, and keeps me working.

The bigger point here is that creators should be able to approach their work as they see fit, without concerns about goofballs with strange expectations and standards dictating to them what is and is not valid. You wanna know what's valid? Creating shit that you like, that the people who support you like. However you achieve that is all good in my book.

Having some goofy ass superiority complex about how people play pretend with pretty voices is strange behavior. I'm proud that my community has never flung that kind of nonsense around, and I'm speaking on it to affirm that kind of stance for the folks who rock with me.

If you're a listener who has recently stumbled into this niche, I implore you to explore, listen to others, find what you like and enjoy it because you enjoy it. There are countless people making audio content these days and there's no wrong way to do it, never has been. There's something for everyone, and if someone tries to tell you otherwise, be wary.

I'm not about negative nonsense, not about tribalism or putting down one person over another. Lift up your faves and share why you appreciate them and their style. But petulant bickering and shitting on others because of something as trivial as audio content? Nahhhh. If I catch anyone spouting nonsense like that in my name, I try and snuff it out as fast as possible because that's not how my shit is built.

If you are someone who fucks with me and my work but has had some opinions like that, I implore you to chill because none of this has ever been that serious. I want people to enjoy what they want to enjoy because for the love of fuck, life is too short to try and grandstand over this silly little niche. Or please get all the way away from me and my people.

Deuces. ✌️

[vagueposting-femnb]

“Sinners” movie spoilers!!!

I’m going to be diving into two characters, what I’ve seen folks say about them & why I disagree.

On mobile, can’t do read more, sorry! Pls scroll if you don’t want spoilers!

Remmick:

Folks have been sayin “He’s the devil!” And the argument has been that he came because Sammie wasn’t following what his father preached, and “the devil can quote the scripture too!” As well as sayin “He’s purely manipulative and just saying whatever he thinks will get him in!” “He only wants Sammie!”

I firmly disagree.

Remmick was drawn because of Sam’s music, sure, but folks ain’t payin attention to WHY.

Remmick SAYS that he was THERE when the Christians invaded Ireland, forced their religion and took his father’s land, he also became a vampire leading him to outlive anyone who did make it through the Christian invasion. Remmick, as far as we know, is alone. His culture was erased, his family is dead, he has no one and nothing.

He comes across the Juke, sees folks he KNOWS been through similar shit that he went through, he’s seen this shit before. Hell, in the 1930s I believe the Irish were STILL dealin w BS in the US! Remmick sees their sense of community, their love for one another, he sees/senses Sam’s gift… and he sees folks who got it worse just bc of how they were born.

Remmick seems insulted when accused of being Klan, he’s playful with our main characters- “oh, is it because we’re… :(“ “we’ll walk real slow, in case you change your mind… *glances back*”

Plus… if he ONLY wanted Sammie, he coulda easily grabbed Mary when she walked out and used her as a bargaining chip. He didn’t.

I ain’t sayin he isn’t manipulative, or it was ALL truths.

I’m sayin that it’s entirely possibly that he is meant to be essentially “the road to hell is paved with good intentions.”

He wants a family, and he wants to see HIS family. He sees these ppl who have family, the ability to connect with their ancestors, but who are stuck with having to function within a fucked up society. He sees their desire for true freedom… which he might think he can provide, at the very least in a racially based context.

I think Remmick is meant to be a complicated character in a sense. I think he’s meant to be an example of how dangerous someone can be when they assume to know what’s best for other marginalized communities, and trying to push them into adhering to those beliefs. Personally, I think it’s entirely possible that he’s meant to be an example of the harms of colonization and even oppression in general, and how even victims of these things can “give in” and become what they hate if they’re not careful. If they don’t remain mindful, empathetic, and willing to learn.

Mary

(This is an important place to start I promise)

I’ve seen folks say that they wish she had been a “visibly black, but white passing” woman. This seems to stem from the perspective that “white passing” implies an ACTIVE effort to do so (straightening hair, lightening skin, nose job, etc) instead of simply something someone can be if they don’t happen to take after their more melanated parent/grandparent.

Perhaps it’s because I’ve grown up in a fairly diverse region/school system, but… that has never been what “white passing” truly meant to me. I’ve seen folks of a wide array of skintones, haircolors/textures, eye colors, who still claimed their non-whiteness proudly, and were nearly never chastised against it, at least not once we made it to high school and at least the majority of us seemed to realize that simply being paler than most black folks and having lighter colored eyes didn’t make you white. That’s just bein lightskinned.

The folks who WERE considered “white passing” were people who DIDNT need to do anything to be perceived as such at a quick glance. So, if Hailee had (prominently) green/blue eyes. Otherwise, if any girl at my school looked like her, pretty much everyone woulda been like “ooh girl what are you? Hispanic? No?? Got a lil somethin else in your family tree then, right??” So that’s perhaps why the “visibly black, but also white passing” complaint just… does not make sense to me.

PLUS… Mary is meant to be a naturally white passing woman.

This is IMPORTANT.

She is meant to be fully capable of marrying a rich white man, living amongst white folks, and not getting side eyed by them.

She also doesn’t seem to TRULY accept that she is, naturally, white passing to most folks, ESPECIALLY (and in this context, most IMPORTANTLY) white people, at least at times.

She talks absolutely RECKLESS to Stack at the train station. She loves him deeply, clearly, and yet seemingly doesn’t realize just how DANGEROUS it is for her to even speak to him casually, let alone how she was speaking to him, in broad daylight. Iirc it was said that another (minor) character had been snatched up, strung up, and gotten his genitalia cut off at that station for speaking to a white woman.

Mary later forces her presence at Juke with no thought as to how others there might feel, let alone the potential ramifications of her being connected to that place by (white) outsiders.

THEN, she convinces Stack to let her go talk to Remmick & co, BECAUSE “they’re more likely-“ to talk to her. Because she is white passing.

(Pause, bc I feel this needs to be said- I ain’t blaming her. OBVIOUSLY the vampires were gonna get folks one way or another. People gotta piss, gotta get home, etc. that being said…)

I think it was another intentional choice for Mary to have been the one to go out, to have been the first turned, to have been the “foot in the door” in a sense…

And that’s a shared point between her and Remmick- not necessarily truly realizing the harm one can cause by not being aware of one’s own privileges essentially.

Remmick and Mary both essentially lost their cultures and families. Both wanted those things back. Both risked/caused harm.

Now, I will say- Remmick is 100% a villain. He’s had hundreds of years. He’s seen shit. He’s lost shit. He’s had to carry that weight this whole time. I do think, at the very least, he knew he was causing IMMEDIATE harm & disregarding these folk’s potential desires in favor of his own longterm goals. Those descendants we saw in “I lied to you”? Many will never exist because of what happened that night. Even if they had ALL been turned & lived happy lives w each other, NONE of those descendants would exist.

Mary is more so a more… “direct to life” example of the harm it can cause an individual to be “cut off” from their community, to have to give up their culture, to be left feeling isolated bc they don’t truly fit in anywhere, as well as the harm people can cause when we focus more so on our own wants and needs vs the impact that could have on others.

Remove Remmick, & we could have still ended up with essentially the same exact ending…

Only, this time it’s the Klan members that show up. At the very least the “main family” would likely still have been there, cleaning up. Only this time, Mary might have been the sole survivor… forced to watch her family suffer at the hands of the Klan. At “best” she would have been spared (severe, visible, physical) harm, return to her husband a mysteriously broken woman. At worst…?

NOW, somethin else I’ve seen is folks online talkin about how Mary is proof that folks shouldn’t be with anyone outside of their race.

I disagree with that as well.

Yes, the movie could have ended essentially the same minus the vampires.

But that ain’t because of Mary. REGARDLESS of if Mary was there, the vampires would have found a way. Even without Mary AND without the vampires, the Klan STILL would have came! Mary had nothin to do with them. They were simply racist assholes who did this routinely. Stack’s comment about Juke being “a slaughterhouse”… bc the white folks would sell the shack to black folks, kill them the next day, rinse and repeat.

Mary is not some “bringer of evil.” Sammie wasn’t some “sinful being that brought the devil.”

They’re just hurt people, who wanted to be WITH THEIR LOVED ONES. Just people stuck in a dogshit society, in a dogshit situation, in a dogshit position where no one was gonna win.

Take away the vampires, Mary, and Sam… the fuckin Klan was STILL GOING TO SHOW UP. The twins likely still would have ended up with a decent turnout, plenty of community members there. Plenty of folks JUST wanting a night of freedom, community, fun. Who knows how many would have been gettin scraped off the floor after a few too many at the end of the night? Who knows how many would have stuck around to help clean up the place? Who knows how many might have, at best, only been getting into their cars by the time the Klan arrived?

I NEED people to stop and THINK.

The movie is deeper than “easy” lessons like “don’t mix with others” and “don’t stray from god/the god your preacher talks about.”

Sammie survived BECAUSE of his guitar, because of the SILVER from the guitar. God didn’t save him when he prayed. His father didn’t check on him when he showed up at mass beaten and bloody and traumatized. He left, and went on to become seemingly a successful artist.

Mary and Stack survived the night, and for decades more at least. They’re together, happily, no longer having to hide.

Smoke didn’t survive, but even if you don’t believe in an afterlife, his last moments were happy- he was with Annie and their baby. If you do believe in an afterlife, he is likely STILL with her and their baby, which is what THEY wanted… to be together, with their baby.

No, it’s not a happy ending… not a truly clean and happy ever after type ending at least.

But… the alternative?

Sam giving up his passion, which leads him to settling into a life he clearly ain’t really want if he made it to be old af and still performing.

Mary pretending to be fully white, going her whole life missing the person she TRULY loved, missing her family, having to pretend to be someone she isn’t as well?

The twins? Dead. Established that.

The ending, while not a clean “happily ever after!” Type of ending, still makes it obvious to anyone paying attention that you are better off following your heart.

Sure, we could pick apart “well Mary should have just left with Stack to begin with!” “Sam should have just left to do his own thing at the start!” But… then we wouldn’t have had the movie. We wouldn’t have had these complex characters. We wouldn’t have seen folks make bad decisions yet still in different ways manage to overcome the bad shit.

I feel like, for once, everything happened as it was meant to.

Even Grace hollerin for the vamps to come in, is in line with HER character. When Stack died she ain’t wanna stay, she wanted to dip. She was working at the “whites” store. She doesn’t feel the connection to these people like her husband does. Her welcoming the vamps was bc she didn’t value the folks around her like her husband might have. Smoke lost his brother. They’d all lost pretty much everyone at that point. AND YET, because Grace didn’t have as deep of a connection as her husband to the people, she prioritized her revenge over their LIVES.

Basically: it was an AMAZING movie. There was so much that went into it, into the characters, into the story. Everything felt intentional, everything had MORE to it than what you might have first thought on a surface level. The movie was a genuine work of art, and so much love went into everything.

If you’ve already seen it, but perhaps you were wrapped up in the moment and a lot of this seems new, didn’t occur to you, etc, I definitely encourage you to see it again if you’re able. Even if you still disagree… if you genuinely enjoyed the movie, ain’t any harm in enjoying it again and supporting the creators & actors!

[ereardon]

She Calls Him Daddy [Bob Floyd x Reader]

DILF Bob Floyd

Summary: Coming home from college for winter break, the last thing you expected was to run into your best friend’s father while out shopping for new lingerie to surprise your fuck buddy with. You had always tried to hide your attraction for Mr. Floyd because he was Anna’s father. But all rules are thrown out when Bob invites you over on Christmas Eve while Anna is at her mother’s house. You’ll never be able to look at your friend’s dad the same way ever again.

Pairing: DILF Bob Floyd x Reader 

Warnings: Just pure filth and smut, cursing, age difference, power imbalance 

WC: 6K

Your fingers brushed along the array of pastel lace before you paused, reaching out and selecting a hanger. 

It was perfect. Silky black straps with delicate lace bra cups that led to a sheer lace middle cut high on the hips in a thong. You smiled. Jonah was going to lose his goddamn mind when he saw you in this. 

You turned, instantly colliding with a person who had been right behind you, their back to you, your skimpy bodysuit flying to the floor as you began to fall. But the person you had crashed into reached down instantly, catching you before you absolutely ate shit in the middle of the store floor. 

“Oh my God!” you exclaimed as the man’s hands caught your waist, hauling you to standing. “Thank you!” 

A gasp left your mouth as you looked up. 

“Mr. Floyd.” 

“Y/N.” His voice was deep, sultry. You felt your face flush with embarrassment. He leaned down and retrieved the discarded hanger and black lingerie from the floor. But instead of handing it to you, he held it up and examined it. 

“I’m, uh, buying it for a friend,” you lied. 

Bob Floyd’s blue eyes met yours. His tone was patient, his mouth in a hard line. “Is that so?” he asked. “Not Anna I hope.” 

“No, of course not.” At the mention of Anna, your best friend and Bob Floyd’s daughter, you wanted to crumple into a million pieces. You could never tell her that her father had caught you buying lingerie or that you had literally fallen into his arms like a damsel in distress. 

Even if it made you ache between your legs. Even if a part of you had been crushing on Mr. Floyd since you were sixteen. 

You couldn’t even admit it to yourself that sometimes, when you slept with Jonah, your college fuck buddy, you pictured Bob Floyd’s face when you closed your eyes. Same when you had your vibrator pressed tightly against your clit beneath the covers in the privacy of your dorm single. It was Bob Floyd’s face looming in your mind as you let yourself break apart. 

Bob gripped the hanger tightly. He looked at the bodysuit and then at you. You felt like you could melt from the intensity of his gaze, even if it only lasted a second. “That would look good on you,” he said, voice low and you felt your heart beating erratically in your chest. “But this would look better.” He reached out and pulled a bra and panty set from the next rack over. It was a white bra with sheer demi cups and a matching high-waisted thong with a thick waistband and tiny pearls dotting the band. Clipped onto the hanger was a lace trimmed garter. 

Words escaped you. Your jaw was practically hanging on the ground. 

Bob stepped closer. Somehow, it was just the two of you in the entire store. You realized you never asked why he was in a lingerie and pajama shop, so close to Christmas. Bob leaned one muscular arm against the wall to his left. “Y/N. Do you have a boyfriend?” 

You shook your head. 

His eyes flitted to the black one piece that you had discarded on the rack. “So why are you buying something like that?” he asked. It was almost condescending, the way he said it. “To impress someone?” Bob added after a moment. 

You nodded. “Maybe.” 

Bob frowned. “I don’t like it.” Yes, he had made that very clear. Now for the rest of your life you would avoid black lingerie like the plague simply because you knew Bob Floyd didn’t like it. 

You wanted to please him. It was sickening how badly you wanted his approval. Perhaps because your own father couldn’t care less where you ran off to on any given day and Bob cared deeply where Anna was at all times. He was a good father. A better father than yours. 

Or perhaps it was the way he was looking at you. Like he was trying to memorize you so he could chisel you from marble later. 

“I’m sorry,” you whispered. 

Bob reached out, brushing your chin with his rough fingertips. You shuddered, need pulsating in your body like a pinball machine. “Don’t be,” he murmured gruffly. “I just don’t like the idea of you getting all dressed up for some boy who doesn’t know how to please you.” 

You couldn’t believe that Bob Floyd of all people was looking at you like this. Like he wanted to rip off your clothes. You thought he saw you as a daughter. As just one of Anna’s little friends. He and his wife had gotten divorced nearly ten years ago. You had long known Bob Floyd as simply Anna’s dad. All of the single mothers at your school went crazy for him, but he didn’t give them a second glance. His focus was on Anna and getting her into a good college. But she had done that. She was at Brown. She was happy. 

So what was he doing now? 

Apparently, he was cornering you in an upscale lingerie boutique two days before Christmas. And the worst part was, you didn’t hate it. You didn’t hate it at all. 

“Y/N,” Bob said. “Wait outside. And here, wear this.” He shrugged off his wool coat, draping it over your shoulders. You drowned in it. He was far taller and larger than you and you felt like a little girl wearing her father’s clothing. “I’ll meet you in a minute.” 

You did as you were told, stepping out of the store and waiting, impatiently, until Bob returned a few minutes later with two store bags in his hands. 

He handed you one and you looked up with shock. “Here.” 

“I, um, I can’t.” 

Bob slid his hands into his pockets. “Then return it if you want,” he replied. “Or you can come over tomorrow night and I can show you what those boys at Yale never could.” 

Your mouth hung open. Was he saying what you thought he was saying? 

Bob smiled, for the first time during your interaction. “Tomorrow, eight o’clock.” And then he was gone, leaving you standing under the striped awning wearing his heavy coat as he disappeared into the snow. 

***

“Isn’t Anna at her mother’s house for Christmas?” 

You shook your head, turning down the hall. “No, she was there for Thanksgiving.” 

“That’s right,” your mom replied, rubbing her hands together mindlessly as she followed behind you. “Are you sure you want to spend Christmas Eve at her dad’s house? What about our annual pie bake off?” 

You sighed, leaning one arm on the wooden door frame to your room. “Mom, please. I’ll be back first thing in the morning, I promise. I never get to see her anymore.” 

“I know sweetheart.” She put her hand on your cheek softly. “Well, have fun and be safe.” 

She closed the door and you rushed over to your closet, sliding it open and pulling out the bag from the lingerie store. With bated breath, you pulled out the neatly wrapped bundle, breaking the cloth tape seal on the tissue paper. 

Inside, just as you had expected, was the white set that Bob Floyd had recommended. Bra, panties, matching garter and thigh highs. 

There was also a small white card. You flipped it open. 

Merry Christmas, Y/N. 

-BF 

You couldn’t help but be disappointed. You thought there would be something else. The invitation was to spend the night, wasn’t it? Or had you somehow misinterpreted what he said? 

But the lingerie sitting perfectly in the box was a different story. That was the nail in the coffin. 

Quickly, you got dressed, zipping your duffle bag shut and bidding goodnight to your parents, promising to text them once you got to Anna’s. 

Your heart was beating erratically in your chest for the fifteen minute drive, and you thought you might spontaneously combust the moment you pulled into the familiar driveway. It was hard to unsee the history of your friendship with Anna outlined everywhere you looked. 

The two of you tanning on the front lawn in the summers. The curb where you hit your head roller skating and had to get five stitches. How many times had you parked your old car in their driveway, waiting for Anna to slide into the passenger seat? How many times had the two of you snuck out of that house late at night for parties, scantily clad and carrying water bottles full of liquor you had pilfered from Mr. Floyd’s office where he kept his alcohol stash? 

You parked the car and leaned back. You were really doing this. You had been thinking about Bob Floyd ever since you were a teenager. Now, you were nineteen. You had slept with other guys. You knew exactly what you were doing. 

Which is how you found yourself with an overnight bag in one hand, knocking on the all-too-familiar wooden front door as snow fell softly around you in clumps. 

The heavy door swung open. Bob Floyd stood wearing a blue cable knit sweater and a pair of ironed trousers, wool socks, his hair combed back neatly, his wire glasses square on his nose. He smiled. Behind him, the house was warm. It practically glowed. “Y/N,” he said softly. 

“Mr. Floyd.” 

“Come in,” he said. It was a demand. He grabbed the overnight bag from your hand seamlessly, leading you through the door, one hand on your back as he guided you into the hallway that opened up to the large living room in the back of the house. “I’ll take your coat.” 

You shrugged out of the Italian wool overcoat and handed it to him, standing in a pair of ivory knee-high boots and a white turtleneck dress that clung tightly to your curves. Bob’s gaze rolled over you slowly. 

“Have a seat,” he said. “Do you want a drink?” 

“What do you have?” 

Bob returned from the hall closet. “Honey, you know better than anyone what I have. Don’t think I didn’t know the two of you were sneaking into my liquor cabinet all those years.” 

You flushed, turning around halfway on the couch to peer over the back at him, mouth agape. Bob chuckled, heading for the kitchen and returning a few seconds later with two glasses and a bottle of chilled champagne. “You knew?” you asked, aghast. 

He sat down on the other end of the couch, pouring a glass of champagne and handing it to you. “Of course I knew,” he said, his voice thick and rumbling. 

Bob poured himself a drink and then leaned back against the couch, one arm stretched out over the back. 

“You think I didn’t watch you and Anna closely?” he added as you took a sip. It fizzed on your tongue and in your throat. “I’m her father, Y/N. It’s my duty to protect her. And you.” 

Protect. The word rang in your head on repeat. Your eyes flicked down to Bob’s hands. So strong and lean, with veins running on the back of his hands toward his sweater-covered arms. You squirmed unintentionally on the couch. 

Bob’s blue eyes were locked on yours. But instead of looking away, you let him in. God, he was beautiful. Jonah and all the other guys you had slept with had nothing compared to Bob Floyd. The small crinkle of skin next to his eyes was the only thing that betrayed his age. He was practically flawless. You weren’t the first person to notice how drop dead gorgeous Bob Floyd was. There were whispers behind Anna’s back. But Bob Floyd didn’t date. And besides, you were twenty years younger than him. What could he possibly want with you? 

“Mr. Floyd,” you said and Bob smirked. 

“Y/N,” he said, deep voice punctuating the air. “You can call me Bob.” 

You shook your head. “It sounds wrong.” 

He reached out a hand, nudging his thumb beneath your chin. “Does it feel wrong?” 

“No.” 

“Good girl.” 

You practically whimpered. Bob’s azure eyes never left yours as he dropped his hand and rubbed his palm over his thigh in his khakis. 

“Did you like my gift?”

You nodded. 

“Are you wearing it now?” 

Another nod. Bob’s eyes grew wider, darker. He shifted in his seat, setting his champagne glass down on the fancy wooden coffee table. 

You crossed your legs, noting that Bob’s gaze followed you as you slowly lifted up one leg, crossing it over the other, adjusting yourself on the sofa a few inches closer to him. 

Bob stood up, running one hand through his hair. He spun around. 

“I can drive you home,” he said, “if you’d like. It’s snowing and it’s late. I realize now I didn’t ask if you wanted to come here.” He shook his head. “If you’re uncomfortable, we just pretend this never happened. You’re still Anna’s best friend, I’m still her father.” 

You stood up, smoothing your dress with your hands and stepping closer. Hesitantly, you reached out, placing one hand on his chest. “I wanted to come.” 

“Are you sure?” 

You nodded. “You do know you’re the hot dad that every girl in our grade had a crush on, right?” You rolled your eyes. “Anna hated it.” 

Bob smirked, one hand coming up and toying with your fingertips pressed against the soft fabric of his sweater. His fingers circled your wrist, tight, and you gasped. “Is that right?” he asked, voice husky. 

“Mmhm.” 

“What about you?” His fingers slipped past your wrist, up the sleeve of your dress, dancing lightly along the thin skin of your forearm. “Do you think of me?” 

“Yes.” It was the truth. You flushed. 

“When do you think of me, darlin?” he rasped. Bob shifted closer so you could feel the heat radiating off of him. 

“When I'm alone,” you admitted softly. “When I touch myself.” 

His fingers slid out from beneath your sleeve and you thought for a brief moment that he was going to turn you away, send you off on your merry way out into the snow with bruised pride and unseen lingerie. 

But instead, Bob mumbled something underneath his breath before his eyes were piercing yours again, his hands finding their way to either side of your neck, tilting your head up toward him.

“Darlin’,” he groaned. “Trying to kill me?” 

“Well you are old,” you murmured, "wouldn't be too difficult." He chuckled. 

“I’m going to kiss you,” he whispered. “If you want to stop, we stop.” 

You nodded, heart pounding wildly in your chest as Bob Floyd leaned down, sliding his mouth against yours, his fingers curling around your neck. You placed your hands on his arms, melting into the kiss. 

Kissing Bob was like unlocking an entirely new facet of sex. His lips were soft, practically caressing yours, and his fingers pressed just deep enough into your neck and the base of your head as his tongue swirled in your mouth. 

To your surprise, Bob groaned, stepping in closer, pressing his body against yours, pinning you against the wall as he towered over you, across you, every inch of your body on fire. 

Bob pulled back, eyes wide, his lower half still pressed against yours, his face and shoulders leaning back a few inches. “Y/N? Do you want this?” 

“Yes, Mr. Floyd.” 

“Then take off your dress and get on your knees.” 

Bob stepped back as you carefully lifted the hem of your white dress, pulling it up and over your head, dropping it on the ground and crossing your arms over your chest sheepishly. 

He shook his head, reaching out and prying your arms off of your chest, exposing your breasts in the whisper of white mesh and lace, the dainty sheer g-string, the sheer thigh highs that you had worn to please him. “Fuck,” he murmurred, letting your arms go and trailing one fingertip over your right breast, circling the hardened nipple. You whimpered, aching for him. “God, you’re beautiful.” 

Your eyes fluttered closed for a moment before they snapped open and Bob’s hand was drawn back. You sank to the floor, wetness already pooling in your panties. 

“Go ahead,” Bob said, his voice almost gritty it was so hoarse. Your hands reached up for his belt, undoing the clasp clumsily before pressing ahead the button of his pants, unlooping it. Your eyes widened as your fingers wrapped around the metal zipper, tugging it down over his hard bulge. Bob groaned as your fingers drew over his cock, even through his boxers, and you tugged the waistband of his khakis down, kneeling back slightly. “You ready for my cock, darlin’?” 

You nodded, skimming your fingers under the band of his boxer briefs, tugging them down as Bob’s hard cock sprang to attention. You audibly gasped and above you, Bob smirked. He was thick and impossibly long, angry red head seemingly staring at you, taunting you. 

Immediately, you reached out and licked the tip with your tongue, swirling it around his leaking tip, your eyes locked on Bob’s. His hands stayed at his side like a mummy, but his blue eyes bore into yours. 

You opened your mouth wider, pressing your thighs together as you leaned in, one hand on the base of his shaft while you pushed his cock into your mouth and throat, gagging around his length as his tip bashed against the back of your throat. Your eyes started to water but you kept your eyes on Bob, pulling back and gasping before taking him back into your mouth, hollowing your cheeks, sucking on him harshly. 

“Fuck!” he grunted as you gagged around him, your fingers tight on the base of his cock. He reached out, threading his fingers into your hair carefully, pulling you back, wiping the frothy saliva from your lips as you kneeled at his feet, chest heaving. “You like that?” he asked. 

You nodded. “Yes, Mr. Floyd.” 

His eyes darkened. “Open,” he commanded and you opened your mouth as Bob fisted himself, pushing his cock all the way into your mouth and throat, fingers holding the back of your head in a gentle cradle. “Now put that pretty little mouth to good use,” he whispered, “and make me cum down your throat.” 

Bob watched as you placed your hands on his hips, steadying yourself, using your head and neck to bob back and forth on his cock, sucking his length repeatedly. 

Your right hand slid around the base of his cock, jerking the parts of him that wouldn’t fit into your mouth as you groaned, the vibrations sending Bob into the stratosphere. As you became more comfortable, you reached down, cupping his balls, squeezing them tightly before letting go as Bob panted above you. 

Bob’s hand cradled your head and you opened wider as you felt him taking control, snapping his hips forward, thrusting his cock deep into your throat, causing you to sputter around him. “You can take it,” he murmured, pulling out a few inches before filling your mouth and throat again. “Such a good fucking girl, taking my cock. Now make me cum.” 

You nodded, eyes watery, and Bob groaned, one of his hands bracing himself against the wall, the other preventing your head from hitting the wooden paneling as he drove his cock into your throat, letting out a string of curse words as you felt him stutter above you, his hot cum filling your throat and mouth, spilling out of the corners of your lips, mixing with the tears that were streaming down your cheeks. 

Bob collapsed forward, resting his forehead on his arm, pushing his cock deeper into you one last time before pulling out as you swallowed his salty spend. He leaned back, panting, and swiped one thumb over your lips. “Come here.” 

You stood, slightly wobbly, and inhaled sharply as Bob spun you around, placing his hands over yours against the wall. There was the sound of him pulling his pants back on, clicking the buckle, before his hands were back on your waist, thick fingers slipping into the lacy garter band, one hand traveling up and cupping your breast as he pressed against you from behind, his breath warm in your ear. 

“Tell me what you want.” 

Your eyes were closed. All that you could feel were Bob’s hands exploring your body. “You.” It was a whisper. 

Bob spun you around until your back was against the wall and your eyes popped open. He leaned down, pressing his lips to yours, tasting himself on you, his fingers wrapping around your waist. 

The next minute you were in Bob’s arms, your legs wrapped around his waist, his lips still on yours as he carried you through the living room, down the hall toward the master bedroom. 

You had been in Bob Floyd’s bedroom once before. 

A few years back, Anna had invited you over for a sleepover when Bob was away for a work trip. Her mother was also busy, which led the two of you to stay in the house alone. Anna had suggested sleeping in Bob’s room because it had a large TV mounted over the fireplace. 

But after the movie marathon and once Anna fell asleep, you snuck off to the bathroom, opening a bottle of Bob’s cologne, inhaling his scent, wondering what it would be like to smell him up close. 

As he laid you down on the king bed, you caught a whiff of that familiar cologne. Duc De Vervins Houbigant. You could clearly picture the sheer green and gold bottle. You had never thought you'd get this close to him.

Bob laid you down carefully. You sat up on your elbows, looking at him as he stood at the edge of the bed. Gently, Bob placed one hand on each of your knees, spreading your legs apart, his hands smoothing over the lace of your thigh highs, up to the garter straps which he snapped against your skin. He leaned forward, pressing his mouth to your exposed stomach, kissing the skin. You felt anticipation and desire pooling between your legs as Bob’s fingers dug into your hips. 

“Please,” you begged and Bob lifted his head. 

“Please what?” 

You wanted to blush or feel embarrassment, but you couldn’t. Not with the way that Bob was looking at you. Like you were the only person he had eyes for. “Please fuck me Mr. Floyd.” 

He practically growled. Bob leaned back, standing up straight and lifting off his sweater to reveal a pair of perfect abs. He looked better than any boy you had ever fucked, even at forty, and you found your mouth watering as he removed his pants, cock hard again. Bob kicked away the discarded clothes, crawling onto the bed, hovering over you before bending over, ripping the lace of your bra down to expose your nipple, taking it into his mouth and sucking harshly as you writhed beneath him. 

“Oh!” 

He licked the bud, nipping at it gently, as your hips jumped up uncontrollably, a throaty moan falling out of your mouth. Bob popped off of your nipple with a smirk, reaching beneath you and unclasping the bra, tearing it off and tossing it on the ground. His large hands massaged your bare breasts before one hand trailed down, brushing over the lace garter, fingers slipping beneath the waistband of your panties. 

Bob’s thick finger slid over your slick folds and you cried out as he nudged your clit before sinking down, teasing at your opening. 

He pushed his finger into your cunt as you whimpered beneath him, the only sounds in the room were your pants and the loud smack of Bob’s knuckle hitting your opening as your juices dripped down to his wrist, your walls gripping his finger tightly. “So fucking tight,” he muttered, adding a second finger, stretching you wide as you twitched below him, pressing up against the heel of his hand, desperate for more contact. “Shh,” he whispered condescendingly. “You’ll cum when I want you to.” 

You let out a groan, flopping back on the bed, letting Bob finger fuck you, hard, until you could feel yourself building to an orgasm. 

And then he pulled out as you gasped, raising his fingers to his lips, sucking them dry before reaching down and tearing the panties at the side, flinging them off the bed. 

Bob looked down at you. His gaze was so intense your first instinct was to look away. But instead you skimmed your fingers over his bicep where he had one arm outstretched near your head. He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your lips, groaning as you wrapped your legs around his waist, your wet core brushing against his erection. 

“Darlin’,” he murmured. “You’ve never been fucked properly a day in your life, have you?” 

You shook your head. 

Bob reached over for a condom, tearing it open and rolling it over himself seamlessly. He dropped down to his forearm, face close to yours, other hand stroking your hip gently before maneuvering his cock until the tip was pressing against your entrance. “You want to stop, we stop,” he said softly. You nodded and Bob sank into your wet pussy, filling every inch of you as you whimpered, burying your face in his chest, small grunts as he pressed further inside, holding behind your knee, sinking into you. 

Once he was fully sat inside of you, Bob moaned. 

“Fuck me,” he muttered, brushing the hair back from your face, fingers resting on your cheeks, thumb pushing away the small tears that had gathered at the corner of your eye. “You’re so fucking tight.” You whined as he pulled back an inch, thrusting back into you. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as he plunged into your wet, welcoming cunt, a low string of curses on his tongue as he felt you stretch around him, your hands on his biceps, grounding yourself to him. “That’s it, baby,” he murmured, “fucking take this cock.” 

“Bob!” You screamed as he leaned back on his knees, scooping up beneath you and pulling your chest in toward him until you were straddling him on the bed, Bob holding you steady as he fucked into you, your bare breasts slapping against his chest. 

He grunted. “Fuck, yes, God you feel so fucking good.” 

You wound your arms around Bob’s neck, your eyes on his as he held you close, his cock brushing that small spongy part inside of you that made you start wailing in pleasure. “Yes, yes!” 

“Don’t cum,” he growled and your eyes filled with tears as he slowed down, pulling you off of him. 

“What?” 

“Get on your hands and knees,” he demanded and you turned over, scooting your ass back toward him, practically screaming as he filled you again in one thrust, his hands on your hips, pulling you back to meet his every thrust. “Good girl,” Bob said as you tipped your head down, feeling his sticky thighs press against the back of your own legs, his balls smacking your puffy, aching pussy lips. 

“Please,” you begged, snaking one arm down, your fingers finding your sopping wet clit. 

Bob grabbed your arm, pinning it to your stomach, pulling you up until your back was pressed against his chest, his arm tight against your chest, fingers gripping your left breast tightly. “You need to learn, Y/N,” he said, smoothing his other hand down between your legs as he continued to thrust into you from behind, “that a real man makes his woman beg, but he doesn't make her work for her orgasm. Now spread your legs for me, baby.” 

You tipped your head back as Bob’s fingers brushed over where you craved them the most, instantly finding your clit, rubbing tight circles over the bud. “Fuck, oh my god, oh holy shit, yes please.” 

Bob’s voice was throaty in your ear, his lips hot against the skin of your neck. “Cum all over my cock, baby. Fucking soak me.” 

And then you were screaming, hot desire pooling in your stomach, bursting, your breath stalling as your breath caught in your throat and Bob pumped himself into you as your legs shook. 

You started to fall forward but he caught you with both arms as you rode out your high on his cock, your body trembling with the aftershocks. 

Bob loosened his grip on you, laying you down gently before rolling you over again, this time never letting his cock fall from between your legs as he repositioned the two of you so he was hovering above you, cock plunging into your exhausted cunt. 

“So fucking beautiful,” he murmurred, head dipped down, kissing your neck as you whined. “Can you cum for me again, baby? Milk my cock.” 

You were spent. But then Bob lifted his head, his gaze locked on yours, and his lips found yours, kissing you deeply, his free hand coming back between your bodies, thumb pressing gently over your clit as you whimpered into his mouth. 

“That’s it,” Bob said, “right there darlin’. Want to watch you while I fucking fill you.” 

He thrusted into you, hard, as his thumb slid over your clit and you found yourself shaking around him once again, crying out as Bob groaned loudly, hips stuttering, filling the condom with his hot cum as your walls massaged him, clinging to him tightly, your fingertips sliding down his sweaty and toned back, pulling him closely. Your leg was hooked around his waist and he collapsed onto you, face buried in your neck, his cock slowly softening inside of you as your heartbeat continued to rage on. 

After a few seconds, Bob leaned up, pulling out of you slowly. You winced as he removed his cock, feeling empty and sore as he discarded the condom. 

Bob laid back on the bed and instinctively you rolled into his side, slinging one leg over his thigh, head resting between his shoulder and arm. His fingertips stroked your side. He pressed a soft kiss to your temple. “Was that good for you?” you asked quietly. 

Bob chuckled, and your head bounced around at the movement. “Yes, honey, it was good. It was better than good. You’re so fucking sexy.” He smoothed one hand over your waist. “I want to fuck you everywhere, every way that I can, until you can’t remember what it was like to fuck anyone else.” 

You smiled. “Trust me, I’m not going to forget this.” 

Bob grinned, sliding out of bed carefully. You frowned but he held out one hand. “Come on, let’s go get cleaned up.” 

In the bathroom, Bob turned on the enormous two-person shower as you unclipped your thigh highs and garter, stepping into the marble shower, Bob joining you a second later, shutting the door. You stood under the hot water, letting it smooth over your skin and hair before turning to him. Bob looked at you with such an intensity you thought you might melt. 

“Y/N,” he grumbled. You cocked your head to the side. “Sit down.” Bob pointed to the marble built-in seat on one side of the shower. You sat down with a frown. But then Bob sank to his knees, nudging open your legs, and you grinned. “I can’t stand it. I have to taste you.” 

You leaned back with a loud moan as Bob’s sharp tongue flicked over your folds, finding your clit, circling the puffy, exhausted nerve as his large hands held your knees apart. “Mr. Floyd,” you begged and Bob looked up, eyes dark. 

“Yes, darlin’?” 

“You gonna make me cum again?” 

Bob smirked. “As many times as I can, until you can’t even stand anymore.” 

And then he was back between your legs, one finger in your cunt as his tongue flicked in circles over your clit while you leaned back, crying out when the heat started to pool in your stomach, threatening to break. “Mr. Floyd!” you screamed as you came all over his face, his lips and chin dripping with your cum when he pulled back, your thighs shaking. 

Bob pulled you to standing, spinning you around until your hands were on the cool marble wall of the shower as he nudged your legs apart, rubbing his hard, massive cock against your ass cheeks before delivering a sharp slap as you gasped. “Are you clean?” he asked. 

You nodded. “And I have an IUD.” 

“Good.” Bob reached down, sinking into you in two quick thrusts, stuffing you impossibly deep as you groaned. “I’m going to fill you up, make you mine.” And then the two of you were gasping, panting, moaning as he fucked you from behind, your bare breasts pressing against the cool marble, Bob’s grunts loud in your ear as he lost himself inside of you. “Fucking perfect pussy,” he whispered, “so fucking tight, how does it feel to be fucked by a man, hmm princess? Could a boy ever make you feel like this?” 

“Only you,” you whimpered, one cheek squished against the shower wall as Bob railed you from behind. 

“Say it again.”

“Only your cock, Mr. Floyd!” 

“That’s my girl,” he groaned, fingertips gripping your hips so hard you knew they’d leave bruises but you didn’t care. All you cared about was the unbelievable pleasure of having Bob Floyd fuck you senseless. “Where do you want me to cum?” 

“Cum in me,” you begged. “Please?” 

“Fuck.” Bob’s hips lifted and he cried out, spilling his warm cum inside of you, painting your walls, thrusting a few more times sloppily as your walls clenched around him, milking every last drop from his hard cock on his way down.

After the shower, Bob gave you a towel and you wrapped yourself up, sitting on the edge of the bed. He appeared in the doorway in a pair of pajama pants and no shirt, towel drying his hair. 

“Did you bring pajamas?” he asked. 

You cringed. You had brought everything else: makeup, makeup remover wipes, an extra pair of shoes, clothes for the next day. But you had forgotten pajamas. You shook your head. 

Bob nodded, stepping toward a wooden chest of drawers and pulling out a long sleeved henley, handing it to you, along with a pair of boxers. You pulled them on as he stood with his arms crossed over his chest. “Are you hungry?” 

You were starving. In the kitchen, Bob pulled out the makings for a grilled cheese and you sat on the counter, legs swinging against the lower cabinets, watching him prepare the sandwiches. How many times had you done the exact same thing as Anna raced around, making the two of you an afternoon snack? 

Bob flipped the sandwiches in the pan and then turned to you. “What are you thinking?” 

“You’re not going to tell Anna, right?” 

He shook his head. “Of course not.” 

“Because it doesn’t mean anything?” 

Bob’s gaze hardened. “Is that what you think?” 

You shrugged. “I don’t know. Isn’t that what you wanted? Just sex. Just tonight.” 

Bob lifted the sandwiches onto plates and turned off the burner. He stepped closer, placing his large hands on your knees. You thought back to twenty minutes ago when he had done the same thing in the shower and despite the fact that you had three orgasms under your belt for the night, excitement and lust started to creep into your bloodstream again. “Y/N,” he said, voice low and slow and it made your body ripple with excitement just hearing your name on his lips. “You mean something. You’re not just some random woman. I care about you.” 

Your heart lifted. 

Bob’s fingers pressed tightly against your skin before lifting off. He handed you a plate. “Now eat your sandwich, please. So I can take you to bed and fuck you again.” 

You bit into the sandwich and groaned. It was good. Almost as good as the feeling of being fucked by Bob Floyd. 

Bob stood on the opposite side of the kitchen, casually leaning up against the counter, eating his sandwich, his eyes never leaving yours. 

You finished your grilled cheese, rinsed off the plate and washed your hands. Bob did the same and you smirked at him. “Mr. Floyd?” 

“Yes, Y/N?” 

“Can I suck your cock again?” 

Bob smiled. “Still hungry, huh?” he asked. “Go on then, get on your knees, sweetheart. Make daddy cum.” 

Tag list (also reusing my list from Friend Don't aka my general Bob list so if you don't want to be tagged in Bob fics going forward just let me know!): @wkndwlff @bobfloydsbabe @teacupsandtopgun @blue-aconite @clancycucumber230 @yanna-banana @whisperofsong @marvelshauntedhouse @that1nerd-20

@double-j @topguncultleader @momc95 @hangmandruigandmav

@minamisulemisa @shawnsblue

@seresinhangmanjake @brehonodea @babyminghao @crthurston

@angelbabyange @taytaylala12 @mizzzpink @mygyn @sadpetalsstuff @averyhotchner @oneelleandaneye @shanimallina87

@wittywhispers @wildlyobserving @eyesthatroll @localhockeygirl @xomrsalliej4787xo @rosiahills22 @xoxabs88xox

@sexytholland @djs8891 @rxmtoon @darkestbeforethedawn16

@cactajuice @purplevortexx @dempy @lemur46

@louie-bug @arson-tm @valkyrja-siren-blog @avengers-fixation

@fudge13 @phantomxoxo @a-court-of-roscoe-and-baby @not-two-shrimp @emorychase @horseshoegirl @abaker74 @evans-dejong @storysimp @emma8895eb  @briseisgone @katiedid-3 @beacheybabes97 @mandylove1000

[lieswetell]

IFHY (Jordan Li x Alt!Reader) PT 1

Tags~ roommate au, enemies to lovers, alt reader, tattooed reader, slow burn, supe!reader, afab!fem!reader

Warnings~ angry sex, jordan might be a lil mean, porn w plot bc im freaky like that, drugs, alcohol, gay shit

Monday, August 7th

“It’s only one semester. This will be over before you know it,” Mia said.

You want to hear her out and try to be optimistic about the situation, but it’s complicated. Having your own dorm was rare in Godolkin. Students who did usually paid an ungodly amount for the extra privacy or were gifted one because of their current sponsors. For you, in your previous two years, it had been a mixture of both.

“This is bullshit.” You complain and have to force yourself not to roll your eyes at your phone.

Mia hadn’t done anything wrong. She was doing everything she could to get you what you wanted. However, it wasn’t playing out in your favor this time. You were still in your dorm, trying to cling on to that last bit of single dorm life you could, even though you were moments away from the move.

“Look. I love you, but there isn't anything else I can do. Some of these kids will probably be out in a few months.” Mia tried to help you look on the bright side of the situation.

You have yet to respond to what your assistant was telling you. Instead, you just kept looking around the now-empty dorm with a mournful gaze.

“Shetty says it’s a large roo-” Mia added.

“My room was plenty big enough,” You complained again. This time, the words came out in a sort of whine that would remind anyone else of a toddler.

 You got up from the floor and wiped your hands on your pants. After taking a deep breath, you closed the last bin in your room.

“One semester.”  You sighed.

“One semester,” Mia said, her voice a lot more positive than yours.

“When are you recording that video for-”

“Alright, look at the time the moving team is here. Can’t be late.” You cut her off and blew her a kiss before hanging up on her.

The moving team wasn’t anywhere near your room, and you knew that. If you focused, you could hear everyone in the building. There wasn’t a trace of dickheads with whistles anywhere near you.

The Godolkin University moving team usually consisted of sophomore students with too much strength to know where to put it. Many were from various clubs or programs that forced them to help incoming students. 

You started to stack your bins and luggage outside of your room on your own. Typically, the moving team would assist the students. Still, it was effortless for you to carry the items, and you thought if you looked around your dorm for any longer, you might burst into tears. That wasn’t very productive or good for your image if anyone were to see it. So you popped in your earbuds and started to lift the bins. When finished you put the label on your crate 465.

 With the headphones in your ears, you didn’t notice just how much more lively it was. Most of your floormates were in other single dorms with other upper-level students. So you would only really run into a few people if any, daily. With the influx of incoming students moving in, you would easily have trouble avoiding anyone. According to your assistant Mia, every dorm room was filled(yayyyy godolkin for not allowing students to live off campus).

After skipping an array of songs, Spotify somehow thought would suit your style, someone poked you on the shoulder.

“You’re 17#, right? Big fan, honest.”The boy said. Something you noticed everyone said after they wanted to snap a quick picture with someone. You couldn’t complain, though you had no proof this person was lying to you.

“Nice to meet you.” You said and copied the same amount of excitement. The perfect amount to seem genuine but still cool enough to feel above them in that weird way you can only get from social media. You extended your hand, and he shook it eagerly.

You didn't feel that way, of course. That’s just the game and how you needed to perform. All to get where you needed to be. Being a hero was a machine full of moving parts, and Mia has been training you since you were fourteen.

“Can I get a picture?” He asked, and you nodded before he could get the sentence out.

Always…

“Always always…” you answered happily. You quickly adjusted your hair and gave the boy a side hug.

The selfie came out nice. Cute and wholesome. You made sure he tagged you on the picture and used a few of your hashtags. You gazed around, wondering who was assisting him with the move. He just looked around at your bins before looking back up at you.

“Is there anything fragile in there?” He asked awkwardly. It seems he hadn't shaken off the nerves from meeting you. It was so silly to you. You weren’t Homelander or Queen Maeve.

“Yeah, the fragile stuff is in that box right there. Marked fragile in bold red tape…”

The boy then looked back at you with a look you couldn’t place. Before you could even realize what was about to happen, his arms stretched out to unnatural lengths as if he were made of rubber. He lifted all of your bins simultaneously. He wrapped and stacked them into the carts and secured them as if his arms were bungee cords. It was astonishing. You had never seen that power before, and although it was slightly disgusting, it was cool.

Just as you went to pat him on the back, a box on top crashed to the floor. You heard the glass shatter and knew instantly it was the fragile box he so kindly placed on top of everything to avoid it getting crushed. Just my luck. That was definitely the bong in there that you’ve had for a few years. 

“Oh, I’m so sorry. I've been stretched out all day. Things are starting to fall out.” he apologized genuinely.

“Lemme guess you are usually super tight?”

Your roommate was finished moving all of her things to the other side of the room. It definitely started as a struggle, but after a bit of time, Jordan started to get the hang of it. Early in the process, he was just bitching to himself about having to do this in the first place. He didn't really have anyone to complain about it to. His friends were rooming with each other, and he was the only one stuck rooming with a new person.

 His parents didn't understand his frustrations, and instead, they were just happy he would be rooming with a girl. Jordan tried explaining his irritation to Brink, but that was also a no-go. All Brink did was reframe the situation by saying it could somehow make Jordan a better hero.

“Are there seriously no fucking quads in this place?” Jordan complained to no one.

He sat on his loveseat on his couch and scrolled on his phone. He debated not being in the room when his new roommate arrived. Jordan heard that people had done that, but he was too nervous to do it himself. What if you stole something? What if you wanted to put your stuff on his side? Maybe you were a weird freshman? Or worse, a fan of him?

He sat back on the couch. His feet were planted firmly in front of him, and he scrolled on his phone. It was a position he often found himself in. In this form, his feet were actually able to reach the floor when he sat all the way back on the couch comfortably. In the other one, her feet dangled and gave off a less intimidating look than the one he was currently in.

There was a soft knock on the door. Jordan rolled his eyes and stayed in his position. Why would he open the door? If they were supposed to be moving in, they surely would have a key, right? He looked at his door open. Jordan wasn’t really sure what to expect to be standing in the doorway. 

When the ugly beast finally reared its head, Jordan finally exhaled. He hadn’t realized he was holding his breath until you waved at him.

“Hi” You said

It’s all you can offer him at the moment. The little helper you had assisting you barged in soon after you greeted Jordan. Jordan didn't even say anything to you. He just looked at you from his spot on the loveseat then his eyes trailed over to the freshman who couldn’t maintain eye contact with you.

“Looks like! Holy shit Jordan”

“Yeah.” He just nodded, confirming that he was indeed Jordan Li

The freshman stood awkwardly with your things and stared at Jordan. The interaction was just already a lot weirder than it needed to be. So you stood at the door and tried to think of a way to intervene in the impromptu staring contest.

“Thanks. You can just leave it right here. I can do the rest.” You thanked him with a big smile

With another resounding crash, he let go of the bins, and you winced. Jordan even was taken aback by the sound and rolled his eyes

“Are you sure, ma’am?” he asked 

He sounded genuine even though he treated your belongings like they were indestructible. You buffered for a moment and realized what he said

“Ma’am? How old do you think- never mind, just leave thanks.” You shooed him away and exhaled softly

“Bye”

He watched you. You unpacked your things, and he stayed put and just watched you. He was cycling through so many things in his head. Being so last minute, this situation didn't give him any time to prepare. The only thing he did was clean and move his shit to one side of the room. He was grateful that he could at least recognize you from the ranking. The unknown was scary like that. Jordan knows you have been slowly climbing your way to the top. Your reputation was squeaky clean. Your brand was sweet, innocent, and confident. 

Your brand didn't mean he trusted you, though. Anyone with more than two fucking brain cells at this school knew that your ‘brand’ or ‘online presence’ meant absolutely nothing. Just because you waltz in here with your big smile and wave doesn't mean he will let his guard down. Roommate or not, you still had the potential to be a big fucking dick.

“Yeah, just don’t touch any of my shit, and we should be fine.” Jordan said without looking up from his phone.

He sat comfortably slumped on the sofa. The uninterested appearance he’s in pissed you off. Oh, so he’s just like this? You could do this, though. You wouldn’t let him see that you were frustrated. People like him lived off of that shit, and you wouldn’t give him what he wanted. You just nodded and gave him another smile, one real enough to be convincing.

“I understand. You do have some nice things. Probably wouldn’t want anyone getting into it either.” You said in that cheerful voice that you had been trained to perfect. 

That time, Jordan did look at you. He was now thoroughly annoyed and over the roommate situation. In his eyes, he tried. In the twenty minutes you had been in the room, Jordan considered everything he had done ‘trying’. This situation wouldn’t work, though. He just wasn’t built to share rooms with a random person.

-

-

-

Wednesday, September 27th

“Jesus Christ, do you ever fucking fucking knock?!” Jordan shouted

You did knock. You dented the door to your room because you were banging on the door for about ten minutes. You even shot Jordan a few texts saying when you would return to the dorm. Of course, she hadn’t responded to any of them; she never did.

So you said fuck it and broke the lock on your door and walked into the room. Jordan was riding some junior in her bed. The sight wasn’t new to you, so you were unfazed. Seemingly to you, Jordan never really cared about you seeing her naked. It was more of the fact you were interrupting her that was the problem. In the two months you have been rooming with Jordan, you have walked in on her having sex four times.

The first time, it came as a shocker. You squealed and covered your eyes, immediately leaving the room and shooting her a few apology texts. When you left, Jordan just continued on like it was nothing. Like you were just a temporary pause. This time wasn’t like that. You walked in and closed the door behind you.

So you waved at the man who was underneath Jordan on the bed. He looked at you with a confused look, then turned to look back at Jordan, who was bewildered.

“You're not usually my type, but I think I could be down for both of you,” The man said, then looked back up at Jordan curiously.

You just walked toward your desk, sat down, and started up your laptop.

She climbed off him and huffed, “Get out”.

Then the man shuffled awkwardly around the room and tried to pick up his clothes. He slipped the condom off and didn't know what to do with it, so he tried to hand it to Jordan. She pointed towards the door, so he just nodded and held it as he left the room. His clothes were still crumpled in his other hand, covering his dick. You shook your head slightly, knowing that type of thing was far too normalized in this school.

“Do you purposely do that?” Jordan asked you sharply. It was more of an accusation. He barely spoke to you, and when he did, it was always intending to fight.

“Do what?�� You asked and logged into the Godolkin portal.

“Wait until I’m using the room to appear out of thin air” She complained and stepped closer to you.

Whenever Jordan spoke to you, it was like they were a nagging little voice that you had to physically restrain yourself from losing your cool with. You didn’t want to risk an argument with Jordan, no matter how much of a bitch she was. It just wasn’t worth it. It would be optimistic to think that Jordan wouldn’t somehow get you lousy press from the situation. It was also optimistic of you to think that one day, Jordan would just stop trying to fight the fact that they would have to live with someone.

Every day you felt like you were seconds from Jordan finally saying fuck it and starting beef with you publicly just to fuck up your rank. Being ranked seventeen wasn’t the best you could be, but to most people, being in the top one hundred was quite an accomplishment. Job security was a hard thing for supes to find, and you weren’t going to fuck up your brand just because Jordan was having a bad day.

“Oh, please. I texted you, Jordan. Multiple times,” It came out with a little more emotion than you intended. Patience wasn’t your strength today.

“You didn’t,” She said flatly.

You huffed and pulled your phone out of your bag. When you pulled up the text chain to show her. You looked away awkwardly when she turned around to grab her phone. For some reason seeing her ass suddenly felt invasive, although she was so chill about it. Once again, she was more pissed about the fact she didn't cum.

“That’s not even my number.” She showed you her Apple ID and rolled your eyes.

“Who’s fault is that?” You asked her this time; your tone couldn’t have been mistaken for anything but annoyed.

Jordan realized what she did and grabbed your phone out of your hand. You scoffed at the action and tried to snatch it back, but she was faster than you. Probably in both forms, unfortunately. Jordan just updated the contact info and handed you back your phone(which you snatched out of her hands immediately).

“You could’ve knocked,” Jordan said, and you did a sharp inhale.

You looked up at her, then back down at your phone at the updated info. It was hard not for you to be pissed about the fact he lied to you. So many arguments could’ve been avoided, but of course, she couldn’t even give you her number.

“I did. For about ten minutes. Maybeyouweretoobusycreamingondicktohearaboutit” 

The words came out as a rushed whisper. The struggle of trying to hold your anger was starting to become not only a mental challenge but a physical one.

“What did you say?”Jordan asked. This time, he almost seemed kind of excited, which didn't help you calm your nerves in the slightest.

“The locks broken, by the way. You locked me out, so I had to break it open. I’ll schedule a maintenance worker to check it out around five,” You told him. The facade was back up. You were no longer spewing attitude at him.

The maintenance request was sent, and Jordan was left confused at the sudden change in demeanor. He was excited for a second that it seemed you finally had a moment of real fucking emotion with him. Jordan would much rather be alone in his dorm, but your unwavering positivity threw him off more than he intended.

Jordan could recall a few times he would complain and rant about you to his friends during smoke seshes. It had only been two months, but he felt like he wasn’t even rooming with a natural person. Something about you was too perfect, too clean, just all around, too bland. He was excited to talk to a person for that quick moment there. It's not the brand you posted for everyone to see. 

He went back to the other side of the room in defeat. He sat on top of his bed. Jordan never stopped looking at you. You slipped up, and maybe that gave him hope(he would never admit it).

“I need the room at five,” Jordan said.

You furrowed your brows and looked over at the calendar on the wall. Each day that passed, scribbled out with a blue Sharpie. You shook your head and looked over at him.

“You have class. It’s Wednesday,” You said matter of factly.

Jordan rolled his eyes and mumbled

.“No, I don’t.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at him. He could be so petty sometimes for no reason, and this was one of those moments.

“Did you just disagree with me just because?” You asked him.

Jordan couldn’t think of a comeback or words to say. You talked to him in that weirdly positive tone despite clearly being irritated with him again. Maybe his dick twitched a little, but he ignored that.

“Jordan, put some clothes on, okay?” 

“Fuck you”

“Your dick is out”

“Have a great day”

Maintenance fixed the door problem by 5:13 pm. It was a simple fix. A new doorknob was installed, but a couple of dents from your early frustration remained a reminder. Afterward, you were alone in your dorm, struggling to wait forty minutes to join a lecture.

  It was a struggle not to nod off in front of your computer. Online classes always felt like a good idea when you signed up for them, but you soon realized they were a trap. It is a carefully crafted trap for you to waste your time on the course because you couldn't keep your eyes open long enough to listen to your professor drone on about the importance of… You fell asleep.

You needed the relief anyway. It was a struggle to keep holding up the illusions you were. The influx of incoming students fucked you over. Having a roommate who hated you meant you were always using your powers. You couldn’t trust him not to try and ruin your brand. The only times you would have a break from having to cast an illusion was when Jordan was out doing whatever the fuck he did besides training and sulking.

Illusions fell around you—your side of the room that was once pale blue and pink warped into black and purple. Your hair, which once seemed to be tied tightly in a bun, fell around your shoulders. The pink sweater you wore was replaced with a black hoodie you had for years. The illusions you had concealing your tattoos shattered. The ink from your arm sleeve peaked out from the wrist of your hoodie.

-

-

-

“Who are you texting?”Andre asked 

It was late. Jordan sat on the couch in his friends' dorm and tried not to be bitter that there were only three bedrooms. He typed in his phone, angry you weren’t responding. Why does he have to deal with this? He’s pretty sure when he leaves that, all three of them just crash in the living room in a pile like cavepeople anyways. Andre’s room was always too fucking clean for anyone to actually stay in there.

He leaned over on the couch to try and take a peak at Jrdan’s phone. Jordan leaned away, mildly irritated with his friend. Andre just shrugged and made a face at Cate. Cate rolled her eyes, already knowing where this conversation was going to go. It was the only thing Jordan talked about the past couple of weeks.

“My hell of a roommate,” Jordan complained and rolled his eyes.

You hadn’t responded to the last ten texts he sent. He was trying to be better to you. He might've felt a bit guilty about giving you the wrong number for that long. So now he was trying to do what you would have done for him. He planned on bringing the same guy from earlier back over, but you wouldn’t respond to him.

“Oh, she cant be that bad?” Cate said, trying to be positive about the situation.

“Cute, you guys are texting,” Andre whispered.

Jordan heard him, however, and switched. Before Andre had a chance to react, Jordan slapped him in the back of the head. The touch was light but quick. Andre chuckled softly and then raised both of his hands.

“Well, I’m trying to tell her I'm on my way back to the dorm. Might need it in a few,” Jordan explained and put his phone away.

“Why do you look so stressed?” Luke asked.

To be honest, he was the only one not caught up on the whole Jordan hating her roommate thing. He thought she would get over it in a week, but clearly, that wasn’t the case. Jordan still hated you basically for existing at this point. Luke tried to lock in on the situation, but he was still pretty high from the session that just ended.

“She isn’t fucking responding,” Jordan whined.

“It’s fine. It’s only been like ten minutes,” Luke stated.

Luke’s eyes looked around the room for whatever the fuck he was missing. Cate just laughed beside him.

“Since the last text I sent. I texted her five hours ago,” Jordan added, her arms crossed in front of her.

“It’s probably nothing,” Luke assured her, although he didn't understand why the situation was that. 

Serious. Cate understood it, though. Even if, at the time, Jordan didn’t understand, she could have seen it already. Cate had a weird way of just knowing.

“Yeah, what are you so worried about?”Andre asked, raising his eyebrows in a suggestive way.

Jordan looked away and flipped him off. Cate and Andre shared another look, and Jordan wanted to flip the couch over. She didn’t though

“Fuck off, Dre.”

“Who is she again? Freshman?” Cate asked

“No, junior.” Jordan answered.

“Who is it?”Luke asked, hoping that maybe that would explain Jordan’s frustration.

When Jordan answered, none of them had much of a reaction, which wasn’t very satisfying for Jordan. Andre didn’t even know who you were talking about(he didn't pay attention to the rankings much). Cate just nodded, taking in the info. It was always funny to her how the most liked people could be some of the worst. Luke didn't run with Jordan’s opinion of her roommate. He knew how dramatic Jordan could sometimes be, and he was pretty sure she would've hated any roommate she was assigned to just because they were an inconvenience to Jordan.

Jordan didn't like the feeling of being interrogated, so the hangout was cut shorter than normal. Once she answered one question, it was like he opened Pandora’s box of bullshit, and everyone wouldn’t get the spotlight off of her. So, she gave up on reaching out to the guy from earlier and instead was banging on the door of her dorm room like a mad woman.

“Dude, open the fucking door!”Jordan shouted.

He didn't want to break the door again, but the longer he stood outside, the more appealing of an idea it became. Inside the dorm, you were still fast asleep at your desk. The exhaustion from overusing your powers took a severe toll on your body. You had been out cold the entire time. All illusions previously placed on you and your things were deactivated.

“C’mon, this is really petty. Just open up.” Jordan said again, but you couldn’t hear him.

A hard alarm sounded in your ear. You shook your head awkwardly, then scrambled to check your laptop.

Take your pill

You nodded and stood up to take your birth control. You made it three steps before you fell because of the loud bang at your door. Shit. Jordan’s voice yelled something behind the door that you couldn’t quite make out at the moment. All you knew was that you needed to hurry and get all the illusions back up. You waved your hands a bit, trying to tap into Jordan’s psyche once you were confident enough that the illusions were back up, and you dry-swallowed your birth control and made your way to the door.

Act normal

“Hey, sorry I got caught up in studying?” You answered the door with a smile.

“Fine, whatever. I texted you, though.” Jordan looked at you, partially confused

It didn't make sense to him. You went hours without answering him, and your excuse was that you got caught up studying. What the fuck? You didn’t even look tired? Jordan hated you. You closed the door behind him and sat on your bed.

[onyourowndaisymae]

what your fav obey me love interest says about you (except they're only the reasons i'm attracted to them) (the sequel)

Lucifer

you want someone to have all the answers for you and to take the stress of being perfect off your shoulders

the sexiest thing a man can do is handle anxiety-inducing situations for you. if someone made a doctor's appointment on your behalf you'd swoon

Mammon

you like flawed love interests who, at the end of the day, still have a very solid core of kindness and love

you want to date someone that is obscenely proud to simply hold your hand or be known as your man in public

Leviathan

you are introverted and want a partner that understands your struggles

a partner's struggles with accepting/offering affection are endearing to you (whether for teasing reasons or because it's relatable. or both)

Satan

a person that likes cats is a person worth investing your energy into. understands boundaries, doesn't need constant attention, will feed strays w you... def a winner

receiving a love letter would actually kill you (said positively and with so much yearning)

Asmodeus

you want someone to bully you into loving yourself

there's a little rush in locking down the hot person everyone wants and knowing they're obsessed with you and only you

Beelzebub

being around someone who is constantly eating makes you feel less weird about eating anything ever (bc who the hell is gonna notice when he's gnawing on drywall next to you?)

there's a small part of you that wants to relive the silly romcom dream of cheering on your partner at their sporting event and having them almost get pummeled bc they're so enamored with you while they're supposed to be playing

Belphegor

napping together is a real and actually pretty nice date in your head

you find a combination of forwardness and bashfulness endearing. watching someone be so open about how much they desire you (and even tease you about wanting them!! the nerve!!) to blushing and getting defensive about their affection towards you is. mwah. chef's kiss

Diavolo

you like the idea of someone so important making time and space in their life to be a normal partner for you

you have an authority kink admire strong, driven people who devote themselves to their duties

Barbatos

acts of service is your (receiving) love language

hidden power/authority is attractive to you, especially when it's not flaunted or shoved in people's faces

you watched black butler at a critical age and thirsted after sebastian

Simeon

you are team "men should dress sluttier"

you want a partner that's strong, sensible, and stable to balance out the active trainwreck that you are and will continue to be

Solomon

having a partner willing and actively teaching you (specifically in a subject you're good at, it's not fun when you're shit) is kinda attractive ngl

a goofy motherfucker also being super skilled in a surprising array of disciplines AND able to defend you in case of emergency (looking at you, lesson 11 of nightbringer) is so hot

[the original]

[billskeis]

Could you write bill or tom fluff with an s/o that has like chronic pain or iron deficiency?

(Love your work btw)💕💕💕

ᡣ𐭩 kaulitz twins w iron deficient gf

you and tom were sitting on the couch together cuddling, bill, georg and gustav left the studio go to grab take-out from the local pizza place nearby. you had your head leaned on tom’s shoulder, watching tv as his arm that wrapped around you was caressing your shoulder.

“we’re back!”

you hear bill yell as shoes were being kicked off and plastic bags were rustling from being swung around softly.

“welcome back!” bill, georg and gustav set everything down on the coffee table in the studio. “oh! y/n and i even got you the chicken wings you wanted, tom told me too,” bill said.

“really!? oh my gosh! thank you!!” you begin to lift up your body in excitement because you haven’t had those wings in like forever, as you came to stand, your blood pressure drops a little too fast and you feel extremely dizzy.

you find yourself flopping back down, not into the couch but into tom’s lap who was still sitting down, “woah! princess you good??” everybody looked at you now a little concerned. his hands now on each one your arms holding them.

“shit—yeah! i just get dizzy whenever i do that,” you reassure everyone and they go back to whatever they’re doing, except tom who clings on to you tightly.

you feel yourself getting a little embarrassed at the excessive public display of affection, but nobody seems to care.

“tom? i’m hungry, let me please get a plate before the chicken wings run out,” you both turn to look at the three other boys scarfing down the food quickly it might finish if you blink once more.

“hold on baby, let me get you a plate,” tom lifts you off his lap and places you onto the soft plush couch gently to go get a plate from the coffee table, “tom! it’s okay—“ “don’t even try y/n, he won’t let you, you’re his little princess after all,” georg snickers while tom punches his arm.

“so what if she is?” tom asks while georg shrugs his shoulder, taking a large bite of his pizza.

arranging the foods onto the paper plate, tom puts an array of a pizza slice, breadsticks and the chicken wings he specifically requested for you. “HEY! gustav no more wings those are for y/n,” as he swats away gustav’s hand that seemingly reached for another.

you didn’t know he asked for them, how sweet.

he sits down beside you, handing the plate, “thanks tom, you didn’t have to..” “oh but i did, though. i did have to because you just deserve to just sit here and eat. you take care of me all the time so let me do this for you,” you laugh at him while taking your pizza off the plate.

“ahhhhh~,” tom opens his mouth to welcome the pizza that WAS for you in a joking manner, stopping when you role your eyes sarcastically at him. instead, you take a big bite of the pizza to which he pouts dramatically, then laughing at he quickly kisses your cheek as you chew on the delicacy of pizza.

god, you love this man.

⋆*ೃ༄

“thank you so much bill, you really didn’t have to cook tonight,” you say as he sets down tonight’s dinner containing steak, mash potatoes and asparagus, “nonsense! you’re my girlfriend after all.”

he smiles brightly and looks proudly towards the food he made.

“oh! hold on a second, he gets up from the seat beside you to grab something from the fridge,” you watch him in curiosity until he turns around and shows you a,

orange..?

“babe, an orange?” you ask, he sits down beside you, beginning to peel the fruit, “ja! i heard it helps you absorb the iron in your food better, the steak is still hot so while it cools you can snack on this before.”

so he actually did research huh..

as he finishes peeling the orange, he begins removing the orange pith, the spongey veins begin to clear off the fruit as it reveals its more vivid colour, you kiss bill on the forehead looking at him and awe and he shy’s away looking down.

“you’re too sweet bill,” you lean your arm on the table as you rest your head on your hand staring at him, he doesn’t know where to look as you can see his cheeks are tinted a rosy pink, “thank you, meine liebe.. now say ahhhh~”

you open your mouth to welcome the slice of orange he so particularly peeled for you, a little of the juice spills out the corner of your mouth as you rush to eat the fruit.

they’re super sweet.

bill takes his thumb and wipes off the juice that began to run down corner of your mouth and face. taking his thumb away he suckles on the tip of it to get the juice that was once on your face into his mouth.

why the fuck is he so hot and cute at the same time!?

“stop doing that..” you say, “stop doing what?” “BEING HOT AND CUTE AT THE SAME TIME!” he laughs at you and shakes his head, he then picks up another slice of orange to hold towards your mouth, “my hotness and cuteness could never compare to yours,” “oh please!”

as you finish slice by slice of the orange, he feeds each and every one piece to you, not letting you do it yourself even thought your very much capable of doing so. after eating the last slice he gives you a kiss on the kips and licks his lips after.

“shall we eat?”

[the-morningstar-family]

We're really going to Vox for this? Will he even help?

Vox: “Hello your majesty. Whatever could coerce you to come here?”

Vox could've kept the showman act to himself, because Lucifer is entirely focused on the many sharks swimming in the tanks around them. The TV demon realises this soon as well, and suddenly feels like he's third wheeling after the king approached him.

Lucifer: “Oh aren't you some cuties?!”

The sharks are equally receptive to the angel's presence, and swim close in excitement. No Vox is not jealous that he bonded with them even closer than him. He clears his throat.

Lucifer: “Huh? Oh- yeah sorry”

Vox: “As I asked before, what could you be doing here, didn't we have a deal?”

The king raises a brow, clearly unimpressed.

Lucifer: “I'm not coming for trouble”

Vox: “What counts as trouble is a matter of interpretation.”

An angry frown graces Lucifer's lips, and he crosses his arms.

Lucifer: “If you really wanna go that route; what about the drones that recently started flying around again? Mh? Don't you think that most might interpret that as trouble?”

Vox: “I– uhm - You see”

Lucifer: “Or the whole watching Al, when he's going about his day on security cameras? Or did you think he wouldn't notice?”

Vox: “Fine! I get it, I don't have the high ground-”

Suddenly, Vox is nervous. He may not have thought this through on the impulse of petty revenge.

Lucifer: “I don't know how your friends would react, cause if we think you really just violated the agreement, we could just go wreck all their shit too-”

Vox: “Fucking- fine. What did you come here for?!”

The angry expression turns Lucifer's into a very smug one.

Lucifer: “I know you and Al were friends.”

Vox: “Yeah. So?”

Lucifer: “And you're also like- electrical sometimes.”

Vox: “Duh”

Lucifer: “Did Alastor ever react strangely to that?”

The TV looks a bit confused, but shrugs and decides the information is worth their fragile peace.

Vox: “Uh, I'm not just going around zapping people. But it happened once or twice. I don't know. He just didn't listen to me for a few seconds. But he kept walking and all… but damn did he get pissy. Like, excuse me! You didn't listen, and now I'm the ass-?”

The man keeps brabbling away. And Lucifer sighs. Ugh. At least he knows that this isn't the first time. How were he and Alastor ever friends?

Lucifer: “... Well, thanks Vox. I think I got all what I need from you”

Vox: “What? The fuck, you just ask one question and leave?”

Lucifer: “Yeah? So? This was kinda supposed to be transactional. Sorry.”

Vox huffs. Screen growing redder in anger.

Vox: “So what did he say with you coming over here to ask me that?”

Lucifer: “Uhm..”

He knew he forgot something. Leave it to Lucifer Morningstar to forget the obvious again.

Vox: “Do you think he'll stay with you with how you just go behind his back?”

The Box really grinds on the angel's gears, how dar she? Their relationship is much stronger than that.

Lucifer: “Listen hear, fuck face. He may-”

But the trips and falls onto his opponent, not only making them both fall onto an array of buttons, but also startle the man. And a lot of TV screens appear into sight. Some with pretty old pictures of Alastor, some newer, and some from last week.

Lucifer: “That is the saddest way to be a massive creep I have ever seen…Can't you get a life? Alastor doesn't want you! Live with it! Or wallow somewhere in pity, I don't care. But leave us the fuck alone!”

Vox flares at Lucifer as if he is the apple that poisoned snow white.

Vox: “Well he should be wanting me!”

Lucifer: “Ew.”

Vox: “Oh fuck you. I don't buy your stick! You still him away!”

Lucifer: “Dude what the fuck?! He's not even been your friend for years!”

Vox : “He's playing hard to get!”

Lucifer: “You are fucking delusional. If someone is having a family with another guy, they probably don't want to be with you!”

The king says it slowly. As if explaining something to a toddler. Actually. That's an insult to toddlers.

Vox: “Pff. He wouldn't even be pregnant with your kids if everything had been according to pak-”

He's suddenly pinned against the glass, sharks keeping their distance. They don't like demon Lucifer.

Lucifer: “Did you try to baby trap Alastor?”

Vox: “Well- it– uh!”

The king punches the screen, breaking it along the already discoloured stipe on the face, rendering one half useless.

Lucifer: “You keep you dirty fucking fingers away from him. Understood?”

He nods scared. And suddenly, the kin turns back, smiling overly sweet. He turns to the sharks.

Lucifer: “Sowwy for scaring you cute widdle guys.”

The sharks swim happy farewell circles. Fucking traitors. And with that, the king unfurls his wings and flies away through the corridors.

[lancer-elvis]

Woah mama this is your daily reminder to give your AGNI Clones a well deserved hug, they will appreciate it.

Impermanent stains. Flecks of paint, thrown desperately from a brush in an attempt to own the canvas. So many star children, so much life, flicked onto the disk without care. Trapped in their metal boxes, muzzled in masks of skin and memories.

Woah mama you aren't real. You are on the transport, asleep, iced. You're just a hallucination.

Oh yes, surely I must be one of them, right? Nice little blinkspace splinter, rotting away in its casket? Oh oh oh, you know what, maybe I am one of those Souls the Aun have, maybe that's why SSC wants me oh so badly. Come ooon Clone, you aren't that daft. You haven't imprisoned shit, or the Armory before you, or those morons in the Garden before them. I am simply hitching a ride~

W-wh... What do you wan-

What do I want? Well... There are so many things. But namely, it is this. Do you know how you were made?

I... Woah mama I... I remember the vats... And...

Oh come on don't bore me with that crap Singer! You were made with the help of the best resources the Armory had on offer. Perfect, disease free, resilient biological material. Subdermal chrome, defense systems, subjectivity enhancements, an inbuilt sensor array for fucks sake! And only the best neural mods, of course, had to make sure you were a nice little vegetable for them to line up against a revolutionary blockade. A brainless walking joke with a tommy. The gun roars, the bullets sing, and those poor, starving rebels on the blockade go pop and pop and POP-

STOP! STOP IT, STOP IT, STOP IT-

Faaace it, little Mannequin. You were made to be a weapon, nothing but another of the Think Tank's cruel jokes. But you couldn't even do that right! Found your conscience. Ran away. Now begging for scraps under SSC's thumb.

So here's my question to you, Singer. You really think you were the first? Do you expect yourself to be the last?

... Woah... Mama... I don't KNOW! I DONT FUCKING KNOW OKAY JUST SHUT UP!

But you do know Singer~ Of course you know, because it's obvious~ Guns, mechs, you. Humanity will keep making these cancers with which to rend itself apart. Forever, and ever and ever. And that's all there is to it.

... And so what?!

So, Singer, a long time ago, I wanted to be the last cancer humanity ever grew in their 'vats'.

Woah mama that sure didn't pan out for you now did it?

No. But I can still be the cancer that finally kills your bloated corpse of a species.

... Woah... Mama, you know you can't do that, physically... I-I mean I saw you, that night on the train, I saw you in that coffin. You are nothing. Just some snake. How in all hells are you planning on blowing up a million worlds?

Oh Singer. You still don't understand. I don't have to destroy anything. Besides, I must admit, on that front...

WARNING: HOSTILE SIGNATURE DETECTED

You humans have me beat.

Woah mama this is Hound Dog! Gheist, Strelka, respond! Come in, transport is being flan-

Who are you calling little one? Your friends? Ooh, slow on the uptake once again, aren't you?

N... N-no they-

Paid you? They needed your knowledge of the facility. A facility that stored the greatest breakthrough in weapons research since spool guns. Surely you should've known. They can't afford witnesses.

WARNING: MULTIPLE TARGET LOCKS, SATURATION MISSILES ON APPROACH

I enjoyed our little chats, Singer. I'd wish your spirit safe passage through the Duat, but me and it's keeper don't see eye to eye.

Woah mama wait no please you can't leave me her-

*explosion* *resonance in the receiver unit makes 6 seconds kfsound illegible*

-se. Anything.

... Fine then. But know that this is not mercy.

*pilot begins to choke* *black mist envelops the cockpit* *another explosion carves its mark into the mech*

W-woa... What... *Cough* what is this?!

A gate of dreams. Come. Let us see what regrets await you in the Great Deep.

*a third missile strikes the mech with a bag*

Moments before the mech is blown away, the cockpit and pilot spontaneously de-manifest from baseline reality. The location of the pilot's body is unknown at this time.

Additionally, the visual distortion inside of the Manu containment unit altered, so that it appeared to contain 11 discarded snake skins of exaggerated size. The expected distortion replaced it 3 hours later.

It is the belief of Gheist that the pilot had attempted some jury-rigged attempt to teleport, potentially involving channeling a portion of the Subject's power out of Manu. However, a true gate formation wouldn't have been possible, due to the Subject's deactivated state. Without any possibility of recovering the remains, the pilot is presumed dead.

[euphemiaamillais]

as your beautiful and amazing friend i think you should do me the honors of writing getting high with sejanus and eating his Ma’s cookies while laughing at stupid shit. feel free to add coryo into the mix ;)

- @coryosmin

mdni | getting high with sej (ft. coryo)

cw: 18+//smoking weed//mentions of sex (innuendo really)—this is the most vanilla shit i’ve written on here

while you weren’t one to partake in smoking often, your roommate/boyfriend sejanus was a major stoner. he said it helped him relax, and after all, both of your roommates/boyfriends were highly strung—coryo would’ve benefited from smoking too, but he refused the stuff.

tonight, you and sej were lounging around on the couch—you’d forced him to watch the newest season of rupaul’s drag race with you. he claimed to hate it, but he always critiqued the outfits on the runway and you knew he secretly loved watching it.

sej smoked most nights, and tonight was no different. he rolled up a blunt skilfully, and you watched as he licked the paper shut. he reached into his pocket for a lighter, flicking it twice before the flame sparked and he was able to light up the blunt.

he took a long puff, letting out a sigh as the smoke exhales from his lungs. he glanced over at you, and proffered the blunt. at first, you shook your head, but after a few seconds of consideration you decided what the hell, it wasn’t like there was anything else to do on this friday night in.

the stuff he smoked was strong, but in a good way. never the stuff to make you freak out, more just create a calm high where all you wanted to do was stuff your face and spend hours making out with him. it made you feel like a giddy schoolgirl, really.

you took a quick hit, attempting to blow it out of your lips prettily, but the smoke came out in an ugly cloud. sejanus laughed a little, and took the blunt out of your fingers so he could take another hit.

after passing it around a few times, you felt a pleasant high throughout your body. but one thing you realised was how hungry you were. your stomach was grumbling. you realised you hadn’t eaten since lunchtime, and so you got up, rummaging through the cupboards for some sort of snack.

you had a craving for something sweet, and when you turned your gaze to the counter, you saw the shiny tin of the cookies. sejanus’ ma’s cookies—the best things you’d ever put past your mouth (well, aside from two other things, but they weren’t exactly edible). you grabbed the tin greedily and rushed back to sejanus, who was laying his head against the fluffy cushion.

‘sej!’ you grinned excitedly, opening the tin to an array of chocolate chip cookies—your favourite.

‘mhm?’ he inquired, a little spaced out from the weed.

‘look what i found,’ you shoved one cookie into your mouth and practically swallowed it whole. it just tasted that good.

sejanus greedily took two cookies and you settled into the couch, nestling up against him as you two shared the tin. you must’ve had three or four cookies before you turned back to watch the tv, eyes fixated on rupaul.

all of a sudden, you burst out laughing. you didn’t even know why. it wasn’t even that funny, perhaps something in the show had happened, but you turned to glance at sejanus, who’s lips were contorting around giggles of his own.

‘baby…’ sejanus murmured, wrapping his arm around your shoulder.

you rested your head against the crook of his neck, relishing in the musky, warm scent of him. you loved how he smelled of home to you, how his warmth always radiated you and made you all giddy inside.

‘i think these are my ma’s special cookies,’ he giggled again.

you cocked a brow, not understanding exactly what he meant by special.

‘what do you mean, sej? they’re just her chocolate chip cookies!’ you exclaimed, lips pursed in thought.

‘you know, special?’ he said, shoving a cookie in front of your face. you could make out a faint green tinge to the usually brown cookie.

‘oh!’ you clapped a hand against your cheek, feeling the warmth of your own skin against your palm.

you didn’t say anymore, and burst into another fit of giggles, which caused sejanus to laugh in return. your chest was beginning to ache when you heard the front door open to a rather exasperated looking coryo. when he saw the scene before him—you two splayed out upon the couch, peals of laughter spilling from your lips, his features were painted with a perplexed look.

he made his way over to the couch, and seeing ma’s cookies, he grabbed two and shoved them hungrily in his mouth. you and sejanus exchanged glances and began to laugh even more rigorously.

coryo furrowed his blonde brows, swallowing down the second cookie before wiping his face with the sleeve of his perfectly pressed white shirt.

‘what the hell is so funny?’ he asked, glaring down at you two.

you had to stifle your laughter to begin an answer, but sejanus’ snickering set you off again. tears began to form in your eyes. it was just so funny—poor coryo, unsuspecting. he wouldn’t have taken it as lightly as you and sej.

‘nothing,’ you giggled, watching as coryo’s eyes flickered from the blunt to you two giggling. his icy gaze widened with horror.

‘sejanus—please don’t tell me your ma put weed in these cookies!’