#anyways. anyone reading this is more than welcome to converse here. and/or to say things that make far more sense than the things I do

[tasklinemgr]

y'know, while I'm on the whole "awkwardly worded headcanons about cog society" thing:

often I think about the idea of the cogs like. performing behaviors that they don't strictly need to. like how we see them eat a variety of foods, instead of just consuming straight fuel. or how they might "sleep" in a bed. or even, how they might decide to build themselves a child, even though their kind typically doesn't need to be "raised", in such a way.

like, if they were made to work and nothing more, then why are they programmed to find behaviors like these comfortable and/or satisfying? do they even find it comfortable? or is it just something that's just part of their society, something they all do even though it has no apparent benefit to them? is it, perhaps, in imitation of something? of what?

[munsonsmixtapes]

Such a Good Boy, Knows How to Please

Billy Hargrove x Hopper!fem!reader

You convince yourself that you hate Billy, but after having nothing but dirty thoughts about him, you give him a proposition.

cw: MDNI (18+) smut (p in v) unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it) mention of vomit/throwing up

This series is being discontinued but you are still more than welcome to keep reading!

part two part three

The summer sun beats down on the pool that's filled with people swimming, splashing, and just generally just trying to soak up the last few days of summer before school starts again. It's so hot that you can feel your flesh burning underneath your many layers of sunscreen. You're there because you know you're really going to miss the pool when you go back to college next week.

Most of the other women, though, they're just there for him. Every day, you watch them fix themselves, touching up their hair and pulling down the tops of their swimsuits to show off their cleavage. And he eats out of the palm of their hands, always making conversation, pulling down his sunglasses as he not so subtly flirts with them.

You seem to be the only one who's not on the receiving end of the flirting and you're starting to think that maybe it's because he knows who your dad is. It would make sense that he wouldn't want to involved with the daughter of the chief of police. And it's not like you care, anyway. You've always hated Billy.

You honestly just don't get the hype, why pretty much every woman in Hawkins is throwing themselves at him. Why wives and mothers are willing to ruin their marriages for that pig. Sure, you can admit that he's hot, but any admiration you might have always goes out the window anytime he opens his mouth.

He just says those dirty things for shock value and you have no idea why anyone ever believes him. You're sure that he just has a notebook filled with lines that he uses instead of speaking from his heart. That's not his thing because all he cares about is getting women into bed and as soon as he's done with them, he kicks them to the curb. It's nothing you haven't seen before.

Billy exits the back room to start his shift and you roll your eyes, adjusting your sunglasses on your face as you collect your things to leave. You can't take another minute of watching everyone fawn all over him. And besides, you really think you need to be in some AC.

You're leaving just as Billy is passing your lounge chair and just when you think he's going to head to his chair, he stops right in front of you, preventing you from leaving. His arms are crossed over his chest and he's got that shit-eating grin on his face, the one that always means that he's up to no good.

"Where ya goin', Hopper?" He asks and you pull your sunglasses down to show him just how unimpressed you are with him.

"Home, not that it isn't any of your business." Billy knows that you don't like him, but he just loves pisses you off. You're so hot when you're angry and the fact that it's aimed towards him makes it even more so.

"Aww, you can't play with me for a little longer?" He pouts and you just scoff. How do people actually fall for this shit? "I just got here."

"Afraid not," you shrug. Usually being short with people is a deterrent, but not with Billy. It only eggs him on. But you can't be bothered with making conversation with him.

"Our sisters are friends, why can't we be?" If Billy were a nice guy, you probably would have been friends with him, but he's not and the kind of friends he wants to be doesn't interest you.

"Because you don't have friends, Billy. And I really don't want to be whatever you do have so if you'll excuse me." You push past him and he watches you hurry towards the gate where you exit before disappearing from his view.

Once you're gone, he turns to head to his chair, but the sun reflects off something out of the corner of his eye. He heads over to the lounge chair where you had been lying and notices a book there. Billy picks it up and pulls down his sunglasses to get a better look at it. There's a man and woman on the cover. They're embracing and he's got his lips on her neck as she arches her back. He never would have expected you to read this kind of thing, but he supposes he doesn't know you very well.

He sticks the small book into the pocket of his swim trunks then makes the rounds of flirting with all of the MILFs before heading to his chair, pulling the book out once he's settled.

He flips to the first page and his eyes widen at how graphic it all is. It's not something he normally reads (he doesn't actually read at all) but he has to admit that he's intrigued. So much so that he does nothing but read until it's time for his break.

He's already halfway through when his shift is over and he makes sure to hide it in his bag so nobody can see it. Can't have people thinking he reads and especially not something like that. That would be too fucking embarrassing to actually admit it.

He hurries to his car to make sure no one will talk to him and is quick to peel out of the parking lot, driving faster than he definitely should have, but everyone is used to it by now. Well, they should be.

You arrive home just in time to make dinner. you head to El's room to tell her that you're back from the pool only to find her and Max on the floor, giggling while reading magazines. You're surprised to find someone who's not Mike, but you love that she actually has friend who's a girl. She definitely needs more female presences in her life and having one who's actually her age makes you nothing but happy for her.

"Oh, hello," you greet, still caught off guard by your guests.

"Hi," El responds, then gestures to the re4d head to the right of her. "This is Max. She's sleeping over."

"Did dad say this was okay?" You ask, suddenly taking on your older sister role as you put your hands on your hips.

"Yep," she nods, and you glare at her, staring into her eyes because you know how terrible of liar she is and she always cracks if you lean into her just a bit. Once you decide she's telling the truth, you ease up and go back to being her friend again.

You had met Max briefly over the years with giving El rides different places and such, but you've never actually been able to have a full-on conversation with her. Now you think you might have a chance. She actually seems normal compared to her gross step-brother.

"Hi," Max gives you a little wave.

"I'm y/n," you introduce yourself with a smile. "Well, dinner's ready if you guys are ready to eat." You leave the door open then head back towards the table.

The girls follow you and the three of you sit at the table, chewing on your waffles between conversation and your heart warms at hearing your sisters laughs. Just from what you've seen, you really like Max and the influence she has on El. That she's letting her be her own person which you've been so hard to do ever since she became your sister.

You really hope this friendship lasts, really hoping that doesn't mean that you have to talk to Billy. But anything for El. If her having a friend that actually cares about her interests means you have to actually speak to Billy Hargrove, then so be it.

After dinner, the three of you gather around the tv and watch some cartoons. The girls are giggling about something while whispering to each other and you hate that you're suddenly feeling left out, jealous. El would often call you her best friend and now you're just her older sister.

There's a knock on the door and you're grateful for something to distract you from your silly feelings. You excuse yourself and hurry to answer the door, not even thinking about who could be on the other side. You step back as Billy Hargrove comes into view. You're sure that this is all just a very vivid nightmare and hate that this man keeps taking over your thoughts. It isn't fair. It's your mind so you should have a say in what goes on in it, right?

You can't help but let your eyes rake over his body, taking in his very cropped tank top and very very short cut offs that have you feeling dizzy. How fucking dare he look so good when you're trying so hard to hate him?

"Hopper," he says with a smile and you feel gross that you actually like the way his last name sounds coming out of his mouth.

"Hargrove," you mutter, wanting him to get on with whatever he's going to say so he'll leave your property. You keep blinking and he's not going away. You even go as far pinching yourself just to be sure that this is real life.

"It's not a dream," he winks. "I'm actually here. I'm sure you've imagined this a lot, haven't you?"

"Not even once," you grimace at the thought. "Now what do you want? I'm kind of busy."

"Yeah, doing what? Getting off to the thought of me?" He's got on his signature smug smirk and you just so desperately want to smack him, but decide against it because you're sure that he would like it.

"Not even close. Now tell me what you're doing here before I grab my dad's shotgun." You're getting even more angry and Billy's feeling himself getting hard. He almost wants to say something even worse so you'll yell at him. That always makes him so fucking hard.

The girls are now off the couch, making their way to stand on either side of you, feeling the need to protect you from whoever you're threatening to shoot.

"What are you doing here?" Max asks, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Well, Maxine," he smiles, reaching into the back pocket of his shorts, pulling out the book that you left at the pool, so close to asking if you have another one he can borrow because now he's obsessed.

You snatch the book out of his hands and quickly flipping through the pages because there's no telling what he's done to it. Billy just stands there, amused by whatever you're doing with his arms crossed over his chest.

"What are you doing there, Hopper?" He asks, trying his best to bite back a laugh.

"Making sure none of the pages are stuck together," you glare and hand the book to El once you've flipping through every page. Max giggles at your joke but El just stares at you in confusion. You then step out on the porch and give Billy a shove, which catches him off guard.

"Now get lost, Hargrove," you glare and he knows he's got to get out of there before you see his hard on. He turns on his heel and descends the stairs and you definitely do not check out his ass as he heads to his car.

Once he's speeding away, you slam the door and swipe the book from El's hands, storming off to your room, letting your anger the best of you. The girls invite themselves inside and the three of you sit on your bed, the two of them waiting for you to tell the story of why you hate Billy so much. Too bad there isn't one.

"I fucking hate your brother," you tell Max and she just laughs because it's very obvious just by the way you speak to him.

"Join the club," she sighs. "Did he-did he do something to you?" She asks, suddenly concerned about your wellbeing.

"No," you shake your head. "He's just a pig but what else is new?"

"So you haven't-" she doesn't even need to finish her sentence and you don't want her to because you're grimacing now, images of Billy on top of your naked body pounding into you flash across your mind and you're concerned that your waffles aren't climbing up your throat. That you maybe, kind of actually like what you're seeing?

"No," you reply quickly, shaking your head. "I mean, c'mon, Max. And no offense, but I don't want to be discussing my sex life with a couple of thirteen year olds."

"Fair enough," Max nods.

"Do you like him?" El asks and you turn to her, confused by her question. Did she not see how you were talking to him? That's not how you treat people you like.

"Yeah, do you?" Max asks, genuinely curious. "It's okay if you do. A lot of girls do."

"Absolutely not."

"But you were checking out his ass," Max points out and you hadn't realized you were that obvious about it.

"He has a nice ass, sue me. Alright, let's put it this way since you guys don't seem to understand. If Billy were on fire and I had a glass of water, I'd drink it."

"Noted. So who do you like?"

"Nobody," you reply, which is true. "I mean, I used to have a huge crush on Steve Harrington in high school, but there hasn't been anyone since."

"Steve's your best friend," El tells you, almost as if she's confused.

"Right," you nod. "But I don't have feelings for him anymore." and you don't. The two of you kissed once at a party and it was too weird so you just went back to being friends.

"Well, he's a lot better than Billy," Max points out. He's actually a guy that Hopper would approve of. Steve's the kind of guy you can take to meet your parents and Billy's the kind of guy who you sneak in through your window."

You really wish you were with Steve because maybe then you wouldn't still be thinking about Billy and his slutty outfit. Well, maybe you'd be thinking about it, but then you could just go and to Steve's where he'd fuck you until you forgot Billy's name.

"No offense, but I don't need my little sister and her friend setting me up. I can get a date by myself, thank you very much." It's not that El doesn't believe you, but she hasn't seen you go on a single date since she's known you. You've always been independent, but she can see that you're lonely, that you crave companionship like she has with Mike.

She doesn't know what you do when you're away at school, but she hopes that if you did have a boyfriend that you'd tell her about it. The two of you are close, you share everything with each other, so she really hopes that there's nothing that you're keeping from her.

"I just want you to be happy," she says, grabbing hold of your hand.

"I am happy," you reply, giving her hand a squeeze. "I've got you and dad and that's all I need. I don't need some stupid boy getting in my way."

Max watches the two of you with admiration. She loves that Eleven has you in her life, that she has you to guide her through life. It really makes her wish that she had a sister of her own and not her stupid brother who doesn't even seem to care about her in any way, shape, or form. Sure, she has her mom who she wouldn't trade for anything, but it's not the same.

You notice her looking at you and you hold out her hand for her to take. She's hesitant, but she eventually takes your hand and you give hers a squeeze with a warm smile.

"You're one of us now," you tell her and she decides that's exactly what she wants to be, finally feeling she's apart of a family.

You can't sleep. You're tossing and turning, constantly seeing the minutes pass by on the clock on your nightstand. You look over on the floor where the girls are sleeping in their sleeping bags because they insisted on staying the night in your room.

You can't seem to get the image of those damn shorts Billy was wearing out of your head and you really wished you had pulled him inside and had your way with him when you had the chance. You're convinced that he did it on purpose, offering up his best asset up on a platter and you almost took the bait.

If you had the option do it over, you would have pegged him the way that you were convinced that he was silently begging for. Why else would he have worn such short shorts for?

Or maybe you're just overthinking it. You have to be delusional because why the fuck would he have worn those for you? He should know that you wouldn't fuck him if he were the last man on earth, but do you kind of want to now?

Why do you suddenly want to see what the hype is about? You want to know if his dick is really as big as they say, to know if he's as good in bed as you've heard he is. You're just curious, you try to convince yourself. You're actually just wanting to see if they're right. If you'd like it. You're not attracted to him, no fucking way. This would purely be for research purposes.

You spend the rest of the night thinking about nothing but stupid Billy and his stupid great ass. You think about the two of you in all sorts of positions as you beg and plead for him to do more, to go harder, faster, and he listens, nothing but dirty words falling from his pretty lips as he pins you down to the counter in your kitchen. He's pressing your face into the countertop, thrusting in and out of your ass as one of his hands kneads your tit, making you moan so loud, but he's got your underwear stuffed into your mouth because he doesn't want you waking anyone up.

You wake up in disappointment, your dream so vivid that it almost felt real. You can't believe that you had sex dream about Billy of all people. and you liked it. How the fuck is it that just seeing him in those stupid shorts somehow rewired your brain and made you actually interested in him? You're pretty sure that you've actually gone mad.

You sit up in your bed and notice that the once occupied sleeping bags in the floor are now empty. You then look and see that it's already eleven in the morning. Even during the summer this is the latest you've slept in. You try to shake your thought from the night before and head out of your room to see your dad, El, and Max at the table, eating what looks like breakfast from McDonald's.

"Hey, sleepy head," Your dad greets you with a smile, pulling out the chair next to him that he's saved for you. You plop down and he shoves the bag over to you and upon opening it, you realize that it's your usual order.

"Sleep well?" He asks, reaching over to ruffle your hair and you slap his hand away. "Somebody's grumpy," he laughs then goes back to his biscuit.

"No, I didn't sleep well because somebody was snoring," you glare at El. It's not a total lie since she was snoring loudly, but you can't exactly tell your father of all people that you were thinking about Billy Hargrove in an inappropriate manner. In fact, you can't tell anyone at this table so you're just going to take it to the grave.

You're surprisingly quiet during the rest of breakfast and as soon as Jim and El leave to take Max home, you race to your room and grab your phone, feverishly dialing the number you know by heart as your heart beats rapidly in your chest.

You feel like your going to throw up as it rings for what feels like forever. You never call Steve about boy problems, but now you feel like you have to, to get confirmation that you're not actually going crazy. Steve is the person you feel like you can go to for anything, so why are you so nervous to tell him that you might be interested in Billy?

Maybe it's because you know he'll be grossed out or maybe it's because you're afraid he'll be jealous even though it's very clear that he's not even remotely interested in you romantically.

"Hello?" The familiar voice rings through the phone.

"Steve, hey," you greet. "Do you have time to talk?"

"Yeah, of course. What's up?" So you tell him everything and he listens like the great friend he is, only offering his opinion when he's asked for it. And that's why you always like talking to him. Because he genuinely listens and offers good advice and never judges you for what you have to say.

"You know how I said you can tell me anything?" He asks as soon as you finish speaking.

"Yeah."

"Yeah, I changed my mind." Well, so much for him not judging you.

"I spared you the details."

"And thank god for that. So what exactly is the reason you're telling me all of this?"

"Because I want to know if I'm totally crazy for wanting to go for it."

"Why should my opinion matter? If you want to fuck Billy, y/n, then fuck Billy. What do I care?" He genuinely doesn't care about your sex life and just wants to do what you want to do. He doesn't know why you're asking his permission to fuck Billy Hargrove.

"So I'm not crazy?" You're feeling even more nervous even though calling Steve was supposed to calm you down.

"Look, I'm not blind. The guy's hot, alright? And I think if you want go for it, you should."

"Thanks Steve."

"Anytime. And if you do go for it, please, please spare me the details."

"Will do," you nod even though he can't see you then hang up. You then hurry out of the room and head out to your car, preparing to head to the pool where you know Billy will be. If you're going to make this proposition, you want to do it face to face.

Billy hasn't been able to stop thinking about you since he showed up at your house yesterday. Seeing you in that large t-shirt made his brain short circuit, immediately wondering what you've got going on under it.

He wants you so bad and the fact that you don’t want anything to do with him makes his want even stronger. He sees it as a challenge. He thinks needs to flirt with you just a little more to get you to crack. He saw the way you were checking him out and now he’s thinking of cutting the shorts even shorter to give you a little taste of what you seem to want so badly.

He ended up buying another “bodice ripper” as he found out the novels are called at the book store and he just can’t fucking put it down. He’s even more interested in the story now since he’s cast you and him as the leads.

Sebastian has got his hand up Juliette’s dress and Billy’s just imagining what it would be like to get his fingers inside you. He’d tease you about how wet you are then got to town, fucking you with his fingers, making you come over and over, until you’re begging for his massive cock.

He’s thinking about you so much that he swears that he sees you out of the corner of his eye, making your way over to him in a hurry. God, he’s really got to stop thinking with his dick.

But you’re calling his name, so it must be real, right? He looks down and from this angle, he’s got the perfect view of your cleavage. He’s so distracted by it that he’s not even paying attention to what you’re saying. He sees your lips moving-god, your lips. He doesn’t usually kiss during sex, but he suddenly wants to kiss you stupid. He wants to kiss you while he grinds against you, making you beg for his-

“Billy?” You ask and he finally snaps out of his dirty fantasy, his eyes snapping up to your face.

“Hm?”

“Can we talk for a second?” Is that code for you wanting to hook up? Whatever you want, he’s in. He climbs down the ladder then comes to meet you face to face.

“What is it, doll?” He asks, his voice so smug because he’s finally able to read you like a book. You’re nervous, guard completely down and he’s loving that he’s finally gotten through to you.

“Can we talk…in private?” You’re picking at the skin around your thumb nail and he’s wondering why you just won’t just come right out and ask him. Yeah, you definitely want his cock.

He blows his whistle and you cover your ears as checks his watch. It’s time for his break anyway so he calls for an adult swim before grabbing you by the hand and taking you into the locker room. This isn’t the first hookup he’s had during his break and it definitely won’t be the last.

He’s not going to give in right away, though. He wants you to beg. He wants you to be whining for him before he even lays a hand on you. He’s certain that he’s so powerful that he could make you come just with his words. And that’s exactly what he intends to do.

“So you finally want me to fuck you, huh, doll?” He asks as he pulls a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket, removing one from the pack, then lighting up.

Normally, you find smoking to be disgusting, but when Billy does it, he’s so fucking hot that it’s unfair. The way he puts it between his lips-god, his pretty pink lips-and blows the smoke out like he doesn’t have a care in the world.

You don’t admit it like you were intending, you just take his hand and a pen from your purse before scribbling down an address then fleeing the locker room. He looks down at your pretty, neat handwriting and realizes that he recognizes the address. It’s the Motel 6 on Cornwallis where he was supposed to meet Karen Wheeler before she bailed.

He smiles to himself as he’s finally gotten another one then spends the rest of his break thinking about all the ways he’s going to make an absolute mess of you.

Billy is already at the motel when you get there. He’s leaning against the fence of the pool, with his back facing you, smoking yet another cigarette. He’s wearing the same outfit from when he showed up at your house, but this time, the shorts are even shorter. So short, in fact, that his ass is hanging out. God, what you would give to give it a squeeze. To use it as your personal stress ball as he fucks you. What you would give to give it a much needed spanking.

You approach him and pluck the cigarette from his lips, putting it between your own and taking a drag, only to cough immediately.

“Jesus, take it easy, Hopper,” he says as he takes the cigarette back from you.

You’re still coughing and Billy doesn’t know why he’s so worried, lightly patting your back to help you out, suddenly wishing he had some sort of beverage to make it all go away. He doesn't know when his hands started rubbing smooth circles along your back, but you’re stepping closer to him, feeling much more brave than he is. 

“I’m good, I’m good,” you tell him. “Sorry.” 

“Why are you apologizing?” You actually don’t know why, but feel like you should.

“I don’t know. Now c’mon,” you lift the latch of the gate that leads to the pool and open it slowly before taking Billy by the hand, leading him through the gate. His fingers are rough but somehow soft and you can’t wait to have them roaming all over your body. 

The lights that are lining the inside of the pool somehow make the dingy coloring even more so, but the heat of the night is making it look inviting despite how gross it looks. You just want to dive right in and take a swim. You don’t care if it looks like it hasn’t been cleaned in years, you just need to feel the cool water against your skin. 

So, you begin to strip. It’s not by any means sexy like you wanted it to be as you’re just desperate to just get out of your clothes. And Billy doesn’t even seem to be phased by this, just checking you out as you pull off your shirt and shorts so you’re just left in your bra and panties. He barely even gets the chance to look at your body before diving into the water, just staring at you, confused as your head pops up from the water. 

Apparently Billy didn’t get the swimming memo since he’s still standing there, fully clothed. So, he’s quick to get down to his underwear and follow you, diving into the water, probably (definitely) not looking nearly as graceful as you. 

“Never pegged you for a bad girl Hopper,” he says as he surfaces, pushing his hair out of his face. You’re over by the shallow end, sitting on one of the steps, running your fingers through your hair, trying to get the knots out. 

“That just goes to show how little you know about me, Hargrove,” you reply as he sits next to you. The lights in the pool usually make people look not so great, but you look absolutely beautiful in the blue-green hue. He really wishes he had a camera so he could capture this moment, you looking at him with that sweet smile. 

You scoot closer to him, so that your bare thighs are touching. You wrap your arms around his neck, twirling a piece of his hair around your pointer finger. Your face is inching your face towards his. His hands wrap around his waist as his lips find yours in a gentle kiss. Billy doesn’t think he’s ever been this gentle with a woman, and just as he’s starting to enjoy it, you kick it up a notch, tilting your head to the side as your tongue slides into his mouth. He hasn’t kissed anyone in so long and it feels so good. 

Your lips are soft and you taste sweet, but he can’t quite make out what it is. He could do just this for hours and be satisfied. He doesn’t why he always denies this part of sex, but he thinks he’s just enjoying it because it’s you. He lets out a moan as you tug on his hair, now straddling his lap. 

“Fuck,” he whines into your mouth as your fingers wind into his hair, giving it a tug at his scalp as you bite down on his bottom lip. You’re now grinding against him and his nails dig into your hips, his head falling backwards, giving you the perfect opportunity to kiss his neck. 

They start out soft and gentle, but then you’re using your tongue, licking and sucking on his skin, driving him absolutely crazy. He’s hard beyond belief and he swears he’s going to come right there just because of what you’re doing with your mouth, your wonderful talented mouth. 

He’s seeing stars, whining and moaning as you work on his neck, giving him a hickey. As nice as this is, as much as he’s enjoying it, he needs to get inside you because he’s about to bust. You bite down on the skin and he moans again, your name slipping from his lips. You’ve got him right where you want him and you’re sure that he’s ready now. 

Your lips find his again, desperate and hungry, still grinding against him and he’s getting harder by the second. His hip buck against yours and you move so he can get his underwear off and you remove your own before settling yourself onto his cock. 

“You’re so big,” you tell him and his eyes light up at your observation. He’s very well aware of this, but hearing it from you is a huge compliment. He loves seeing you like this, on top of him in nothing but your bra. This is something he could only dream about, something he has dreamed about even though he’d never admit it. 

You watch him come undone as you begin to ride him, eating up how quickly you were able to dominate him. It’s clear that you have the control here and he’s loving it. He’s always on top, but letting you take the lead is much more fun. He wants you to boss him around, to make him your bitch. 

“Yeah? You like that?” You ask and he nods, feeling fucked out already and you’ve barely even done anything. Maybe it’s because he never engages in foreplay so he has more energy for the main event. “Look at you. Already tired, baby?” God, he really wants you to call him that again. 

“No,” he replies through a deep breath, bucking his hips against yours. “Keep going.”

You continue, moving faster as his hands move up to remove your bra as he continues to buck his hips against yours, trying his best to keep up with you. As soon as your chest is bare, he can’t help but stare, watching your tits bounce up and down. And just when he thought you couldn’t get any hotter. 

“Fuck, you feel so good, baby,” you moan as you pick up your pace, and Billy’s pretty sure that it’s the hottest thing he’s ever heard. You moan again and again as his hips buck against yours, wanting to make you feel as good as you’ve made him feel.

There’s no way he can fuck anyone else after this. It’s like someone mediocre going on stage to perform right after Prince. This is easily the best sex he’s ever had and it’s not even over. He’s got to have you every night for the rest of his life now. And if this night is all you’re wanting from him, then maybe he’ll just refrain from ever sleeping with anyone ever again. 

Although, he’d never admit any of this to you. His ego won’t allow it. He likes being complimented, but he’s never one to do so unless it directly benefits him. Well, except for him telling you how pretty you looked. That was just because he wanted to. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, doll,” he moans as he comes and you don’t even care if he pulls out. You just help him ride his high and you’re close, your eyes shut tight as his name rolls off your lips. And fuck does it feel good to hear you scream it. 

“Billy, oh my god. His name tumbles out of your mouth as you reach your peak reached and fuck does it feel good for him to hear you scream it. 

Once you’ve come down, you climb off him and hurry to retrieve your underwear, Billy quickly following behind even though he’s not as in a rush as you are. He wants to stay here for a little longer, just to hold you in his arms and shower you with compliments. He might even actually tell you that you’re the best he’s ever had. 

“If I’m not home by ten, I’m going to be dead,” you tell him and now he understands, because of course Jim Hopper would still have his daughter under curfew even though she’s an adult now. 

He doesn’t know what time it is, but doesn’t want to be the reason why you’re late so he lets you go, not getting dressed nearly as quickly as you, but he’s still trying to keep up. He’s wondering how you don’t completely hate the wet clothes against your skin and how you’re going to explain that to your dad, but he supposes that isn’t any of his business. 

So he watches you slip on your flip flops as he gets out of the pool with his underwear on. He’s pulling on his shorts which is proving to be a struggle, but he eventually gets them on and throws on his shirt as he’s hurrying to catch up with you, following you to your car. 

“Well, this was fun,” you tell him with a bright smile. “We should do it again sometime. You can get the house number from Max, right? I’m sure he has it.”

“Yeah, sure.”

“Great. Don’t be a stranger, alright?” You ask, leaning forward to press a kiss to his cheek before you get into your car. You start it up and Billy watches you back out of the parking lot, knowing that he’s going to be giving you a call very soon.

[spnhunter4life]

Good Morning

Summary: Ridoc is dying to share the latest gossip he's just discovered about a certain squadmate or two.

Word Count: 1.9k

Warnings: none

A/N: Hello everyone! Sorry in advance for the somewhat lengthy note here. Don't feel obligated to read the whole thing. So, I'm back and writing again! Not only is this my first fic back after nearly 6 months, but it's my first Fourth Wing fic! It is also my first time writing for anything other than Supernatural. After finishing these books I did the only logical thing and started searching out fanfiction to cope with the very real Fourth Wing hangover I was dealing with, and I was a little disappointed that there aren't more Liam fics out there since he is by far my favorite character. So I guess this is me, getting a start on putting more Liam fics out into the world. You're welcome? Maybe? Hopefully? Anyway, this fic is mostly just a lot of banter between the squad. Writing this kind of friend dynamic doesn't come super easily to me, but I'm actually pretty happy with how it turned out, so I hope you enjoy it too! (Also, big thank you to anyone who actually read this whole thing!)

Masterlist

“Good morning!” Ridoc chirped with the biggest, most knowing grin on his face I’d ever seen. I glared daggers at him as I took my seat at the table next to Violet, Liam setting his plate down and sitting next to me.

His cheerful greeting was widely ignored, acknowledged only by Sawyer who managed little more than a grunt in reply.

Undeterred by this lackluster response, Ridoc continued cheerfully, “It is a great morning, isn’t it? What do you think, Rhi?” 

I continued my glaring, but Liam merely rolled his eyes.

“I think it would be better if you weren’t being so loud,” Rhiannon, who had the misfortune of sitting next to him, grumbled.

“See? Rhiannon agrees,” Ridoc continued, either not listening to her answer or just ignoring it in favor of his obvious goal. “What about you, Violet? Having a good morning?”

Violet looked at Ridoc a little warily, catching on to his tone. “I suppose so,” she agreed.

Sawyer, who was also catching on, began to look suspiciously around the room before focusing back on our table. “What’s going on, Ridoc?” He asked.

“Hmm? Oh, nothing,” Ridoc replied in a tone that was far from casual. “But since you ask, you know who I hear is having a particularly good morning?” That knowing smile was back, but toned down into more of a smirk than an all out grin.

“Ridoc,” I warned since my glaring evidently hadn’t made my point.

“I heard Sam saying he saw Jesse coming out of Avery’s room this morning.”

I felt the tension leave my shoulders and everyone else rolled their eyes.

“That’s old news,” Sawyer said.

“Doesn’t mean it’s not a great morning for them,” Ridoc countered.

Conversation seemingly over, I turned to Violet.

“Hey, are you still available to help me study for that history test tonight?” I asked her.

“Yeah, of course,” she immediately agreed. “I’ve got some useful tips to help you memorize-”

“You know who else is having a great morning?” Ridoc cut in. My glare returned full force and I kicked him under the table. He yelped and Sawyer looked curiously between us.

“Seriously, what’s going on?” He asked.

“Ridoc caught me kissing Y/N this morning and apparently has nothing better to do than gossip about it,” Liam said, cutting off the ensuing battle of wills and drama before it could really start. Everyone gaped at him. I saw slightly squinted eyes and tilted heads as if they were replaying his words, sure they’d heard him wrong.

“Wait. Seriously?” Rhiannon was the one to break the silence, a grin slowly forming on her face.

I shot Liam a half hearted betrayed look and sighed. “Yes, really!” Ridoc said excitedly before I could say the exact same thing, albeit in a much less enthusiastic tone. It’s not that I didn’t want them to know, it’s that I didn’t want them to know yet. The truth was, we’d been together for just over a week now, and while I was loving it, I wasn’t ready to make the best thing I had going public knowledge to be gossiped about.

“You know how Liam’s been giving Y/N sparring lessons before breakfast?” He asked. While I hadn’t been performing poorly on the mat by any stretch of the imagination, I still had lots of room for improvement and had asked Liam to help me. Those lessons, those quiet times we had together with no one else around were what finally pushed us together. Turns out we’d both been pining for quite some time. 

“Yeah,” Sawyer said, a not so subtle push for more information.

“Well I was up early this morning and decided I’d go see if they could use my help.” This earned a snort from Rhi. “Anyway,” he continued, brushing off the wordless comment about the state of his own fighting skills, “I walked into the room and, what do you know? Turns out ‘training’ was just code for making out.”

“It was not!” I objected, a little too loudly. Several heads turned our direction and I felt my face heat. “He’s really been helping me,” I continued in a quieter voice. Liam, who was usually my go to for help in an argument of any kind, was apparently too busy being pleased with himself to back me up. I could see him fighting the smug smile threatening to take over his face. I fought the urge to roll my eyes again.

“So was this a heat of the moment, one time thing, or what happened? You know we need details!” Violet prompted.

“Heat of the moment?” I asked, eyeing Liam as I remembered his arms around me as he encouraged me to break his hold. His eyes heated as he remembered too. “Yes. One time thing? No.”

“So how long has this been going on for?” Rhi demanded.

“Barely more than a week,” Liam answered. “And we were going to tell you. We just wanted to keep it to ourselves for a little bit.”

“You know what? I don’t even care that you didn’t tell us,” Violet assured us. “I’m just so happy to see you two finally admitting you’re into each other.”

“Yeah,” Rhi agreed. “To be honest, all the obvious staring and longing looks were getting a little old. I was about ready to step in and do something about it.”

“Like what?” I asked warily. She wasn’t one to hold back or do things the easy, gentle way, so if she truly had been planning something, then I’m glad we beat her to the punch.

“I don’t know. Kiss Liam to make you jealous. Find someone dumb enough to kiss you to make Liam jealous. Ridoc, maybe.” 

“Hey!” Ridoc protested at being called dumb, but it was a token protest at best. We all knew he would’ve done it with very little prompting.

“Get a ridiculous, teenage version of truth or dare going and either have you kiss each other or force you to admit your feelings,” she continued. “Or maybe just beat you both around the head and tell you how oblivious you were both being.”

“My money’s on the last option,” Sawyer muttered, loudly enough that we all heard him. I was inclined to agree. The other options she’d listed were not really her style. She preferred a more direct approach.

“Well, luckily for us, there will be no beating necessary,” Liam said. 

Ridoc grinned. “Au contraire, my friend. It sounds like some beating was very necessary. Unless you’re going to change your mind and tell me that training was just an excuse to make out after all.”

I huffed in exasperation and Liam shook his head, a fond smile on his face.

“If all we were doing was making out, why would we even come up with an excuse? Why would we not just spend the night together? It would be a lot simpler,” I pointed out.

“It would be simpler, wouldn’t it?” That ridiculous grin was still firmly plastered on his face. A quick look around the table confirmed that the rest of our friends were wearing similar smiles.

“Something to keep in mind,” Liam chuckled. “But in the meantime, I think you’ll all be quite impressed with Y/N’s improvements at our next squad training session tomorrow night.”

“Oh yeah?” Violet asked with a sly grin. “Been putting her through her paces, have you?”

Ridoc choked on his water and started violently coughing to expel it from his lungs. Rhiannon thumped him on the back as she snickered.

Liam’s eyes sparked in surprise and then the corner of his mouth quirked up in a rarely seen – and unfairly attractive – mischievous grin. “Why, Violet? You thinking about joining us?” I could practically see the snarky retort forming in her mind, but just before she could voice it, Liam continued. “I’m a little preoccupied with Y/N, of course, but I could always ask Xaden to help you out.”

Violet turned red at the mention of the wingleader.

“Yes, Violet,” I grinned. “You do love seeing him without a shirt on.” I couldn’t help but reference the way she had openly stared at him yesterday while he and Garrick sparred.

“Oh please,” Rhi scoffed. “As if we’ve never seen you ogling Mairi when his shirt’s off.”

Liam turned a surprised look on me, eyebrow raised in question. I shrugged. There was no point hiding it from him anymore. “Guilty as charged.”

Liam’s smile turned back to smug and I rolled my eyes. “Oh, don’t give me that look. It’s not exactly news to you that you’re attractive.”

“And that means I’m not supposed to like knowing that you’ve been looking?” He challenged. Then he leaned in to whisper in my ear. “Or are you telling me it doesn’t do something to you when you catch me looking at you that way?”

My face felt like it was on fire with how quickly the blood rushed to it. I whipped my head around to stare at him incredulously, surprised he would make such a comment right in front of our friends. They hadn’t heard him of course, but their knowing smirks said enough about their ability to guess at what had been said.

“I thought we were teasing Violet now,” I managed to choke out. Liam’s thumb rubbed soothingly over my knee in silent apology, but the gleam in his eye told me he wasn’t sorry for making the comment, only that there were other people around.

“Her infatuation with Riorson is old news. This is much more interesting,” Ridoc answered.

“Interesting or not, if we’re going to make it to Battle Brief on time, we’d better get going,” Sawyer informed us. I glanced around the room and realized he was right. The morning’s usual mass exit was starting as everyone hurried to make it to class. We all stood up and followed them.

“Seriously, though,” Sawyer said, dropping back to walk beside us for a moment. “I’m happy for you two.” There were echoes of agreement from the other three walking directly ahead of us.

“Thanks,” Liam and I answered at the same time. 

This day hadn’t started out quite how I wanted, what with our friends finding out about us, but I realized it wasn’t such a bad thing. A weight I hadn’t even realized was there was lifted off of my chest with the relief of no longer having to keep a secret from our squadmates. 

I couldn’t seem to keep the smile off my face the whole way to Battle Brief. When I joined the rider’s quadrant, I was prepared for hard work and sacrifice and spending my days miserable and alone. Instead, I had a wonderful group of friends that would do anything for me. I was lucky enough to be in a relationship with the most incredible man I’d ever met. And I was happy, I realized. Happier than I’d been in a very long time. Maybe ever. 

I reached for Liam’s hand under the table. He entwined our fingers without question, and I knew he would hold on until the need to take notes required us to let go. I couldn’t be upset with Ridoc anymore about outing us to the squad. I was too grateful to be a part of this little family we had all created together. I smiled to myself as I remembered his over the top greeting this morning in preparation for teasing us and how annoyed I had been. He was right, though. It was a good morning.

[tealvenetianmask]

I'm sick, so I'm going to do the very normal thing and wax poetically about the positive neurodiversity representation is in HB. That's because they manage to make it appear neither purely good nor purely bad. It's allowed to just be part of what makes our characters who they are in their beautiful complexity.

Exhibit A: Blitz (there's no exhibit B yet, but maybe there will be!).

He never gets a diagnosis. No one in this show does.

I think ADHD is obvious. I did a post on this a long time ago, but the man barely sits still, and he's always climbing and sitting on things in odd ways. He misses things other characters say when he's caught up in his own ideas. He sometimes falls on his face when distracted despite having literal acrobatic skills. He gets stuck . . . hyperfocusing on things to the point where he ignores other pressing matters. He's an out of the box thinker and has an infectious enthusiasm for life.

You've probably seen me on here arguing that he has dyslexia. ADHD and LD (learning disabilty) are a much more common combination than most people acknowledge, just like ADHD and autism. If this is your take on him, I welcome you to comment too, but to me the LD/dyslexia thing is pretty powerful because I have ADHD and LD too. We all come to these conversations with our lived experiences.

And just like lots of real people with these and other neurodiversities, he also deals with a shit ton of trauma and related disorders as an adult. BPD . . . PTSD . . . you get the gist. The trauma is portrayed as bad, and some of his resulting behaviors certainly are too, but he's still fundamentally a good person who's been through a lot.

I think the part of his story I most understand as a neurodivergent one is the concept of "not being good enough" that he carries around. It originated before the fire, with Cash devaluing him (literally) in favor of Fizz. Blitz has an ever-present itch to prove himself, believes that he is not worthy of love, and that what he can DO for people is all that will make anyone want him around.

I think that most neurodivergent and/or otherwise disabled people get this, either from the always pushing side or the giving up side, or both at different times . . .). I grew up with parents who expected A LOT, and frankly, to this day, I often CAN'T meet their expectations because of how my brain works. I learned that I need to accomplish things. I also learned that I need to accomplish them IN MY WAY, or else I'd just fall short. I spent a lot of time when I was younger thinking that no one was like me (cue angsty music), but it turns out, a lot of people are. We just weren't very open about it in the 90's/2000's. That's why representation is important.

Blitz finds ways to work. He works very hard for his company, because he cares deeply about it and about the people who work for him, and also about PROVING SOCIETY WRONG (yes, there's a pushing back against racism element here too). He chooses to not care too much about spelling or paperwork and leans on employees for some of that- not justifying Moxxie being stuck with it, but, yes, this reads as self-accommodation to me.

And having to work around having more trouble with certain things because your brain works differently? Well, when a person grows up like that, you can get a really inventive, dynamic problem solver. Some people will say that this is inherently part of ADHD, and I don't know, but it's part of Blitz.

Anyway, I'll try to write a more coherent essay on some of these issues as they appear in the show later. Stolas is also an interesting case.

But do discuss! Entertain me on my snotty sick bed. XD

[wheeboo]

the secret life of jun | wen junhui

SYNOPSIS. in which jun gets set up on a blind date by his best friend. PAIRING. zoolinguist!wen junhui x gn!reader (ft. minghao, gyu the golden retriever, boo the duckling, and lil mentions of some members as their representative animals. not hybrids.) GENRE. fluff, humour, kinda strangers to lovers, magic-realism au WARNINGS. cursing, jun just being a very cute awkward shy boy :(, my first attempt at something remotely magic/fantasy WORD COUNT. 3k

notes: this is for the caratlibrary secret gift exchange event! and therefore, this gift is for @phenomenalgirl9 who also gifted a fic for me hehe. i hope you enjoy <3 this is also my first time writing something remotely fantasy/magic, so... feedback is welcome! ty to my lovely moots who read this over for me ^^

"Jun! Can you tell your dog to get the fuck off me?" Minghao attempts to shove away the ever-persistent golden retriever pawing and licking at his face, but Jun doesn't seem to hear, seemingly engrossed on something else entirely in the kitchen.

Minghao just groans annoyedly, and just as he's about to call out for his best friend's name again, a thought crosses his mind. A sort-of stupid one that he knows won't work, but he'll try it out anyway.

He brings a hand up, watching the dog follow it with curiosity, and he points to the ground while firmly saying, "Down."

Unfortunately, the dog only tilts his head inquisitively, as if dazed and confused by the action, before relentlessly pouncing on the boy again, and all he could do is surrender himself to the attack of excitement. Right, he thinks, these animals don't exactly understand him normally.

Jun finally emerges from the kitchen after what feels like an eternity, a black cat cuddled gently in his arms, lightly running his fingers through its fur carefully. When he picks his head up, he could only chuckle at the sight in front of him. Minghao only rolls his eyes, shooting a playful glare to his best friend who only seems amused.

"Your dog is a menace," Minghao declares, wiping away the slobber from his face.

"Come on! Gyu just likes you."

"I'm not sure I share the sentiment right now," Minghao replies almost coldly, perhaps even half-jokingly, attempting to regain his composure.

Jun just sighs and sends out a whistle from his lips to get the dog's attention. And with a subtle look from just his eyes, as if sending a silent signal, Gyu hops off the couch and trots over to Jun, letting out a few barks in response.

"He says he doesn't like your attitude today," Jun translates, setting the cat in his hands down on the floor. "but he's forgiven you."

"Gee, thanks," Minghao scoffs and crosses his arms together, still trying to maintain a façade of irritation, though it's quite easy to see right through it.

He watches for some time as Jun crouches down to the dog's level, the two of them communicating in a way he knows he can never understand, but is grown to be amazed by every time. It isn't a secret that he knows that his own best friend can communicate with animals, as strange as that might sound (because... it's true), but it's a fact he's fully accepted.

Jun probably has more animal friends than human friends at this point. He's made friends with the birds at the park, the stray cats that roam the streets, a deer that comes to visit occasionally behind his place, an otter that frequents at a nearby pond, hell even one of the tigers at the zoo𑁋the list goes on.

And not to exactly complain, but he also really wants Jun to find a fucking partner.

Not that it's a bad thing Jun isn't seeing anyone, and it totally isn't the entire reason why Minghao is here right now. He has tried to set Jun up on dates, but the older boy almost always manages to find some excuse or simply doesn't show up, claiming he got caught up in a conversation with a stray cat or a butterfly on the way. Or the date ends up in disaster with a chase down the street of the neighbourhood raccoons stealing food.

But then again, that's Jun for you𑁋unpredictable.

"One more date."

Jun raises his head, and the moment he sees that particular smirk to Minghao's face, he groans.

"No."

"Oh, come on, just one more," Minghao insists. "I promise you'll like them. They're an animal lover."

"Just because they're an animal lover doesn't mean𑁋"

"You're either going to be drinking 'till you're absolutely couch-ridden on new year's because you're single and lonely again, or you could be celebrating with someone special. Your call, dude."

Jun finds his face flushing out of embarrassment, scratching absentmindedly behind Gyu's ears as Minghao's words wash over him. Then his features soften, and he lets out a sigh.

"Fine," he relents. "One more."

Shit, he's screwed. The minute Minghao told him the date would be happening in the middle of the park where he often chatted with the local squirrels and ducks, Jun knew this already wouldn't end well.

He also had quite the love-hate relationship with blind dates𑁋or dates in general, to be honest𑁋and the thought of meeting a stranger made his palms sweat even with the cold threatening through his thick coat (he's convinced that Minghao is pulling anyone out of his ass at this point).

The park is covered with a light blanket of snow, the trees standing tall and glowing with strings of fairy lights against the grey winter sky. Jun shivers in place and adjusts the scarf around his neck, partially from the cold and partially from the impending awkwardness he anticipates.

"Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry for being late! The traffic was awful coming here and I got a bit lost..."

The voice is frantic and panicky to Jun's ears akin to his equally panicking heart, who turns around to a figure rushing up to him, covered in layers and letting out misty breaths that appear in the air.

"It's okay," Jun says, voice coming out a bit awkward. He offers a reassuring smile. "I'm, uh... Jun, by the way."

"Y/N," You say, relieved as you finally catch your breath and look up at him with a cute grin. "I'm so sorry for being late. I hope you weren't waiting for too long."

"Oh, not at all. I... just got here as well." It's a bit of a white lie𑁋he was beginning to worry you ditched him, honestly. Jun feels his hands fidget in his pockets nervously, yet he sees the ease that washes over your features at his words, and he relaxes slightly. There's something about the way you carry yourself and the slight blush on your cheeks from the cold that eases some of his tension.

And maybe, just maybe, his heart stutters a little at your smile, like a startled butterfly in his chest. Did the lights at the park grow brighter?

"Would you like to, uh, maybe grab some hot chocolate?" Jun suggests, gesturing towards the small, lit up kiosk nestled in the corner of the park that seemed quite busy with customers. "It can help... warm you up."

Your eyes light up to his words, grinning. "That sounds perfect, actually."

As you both walk towards the kiosk, the air seems to crackle with a nervous energy Jun hadn't expected. Despite the awkwardness gnawing at him, he can't deny the strange sense of hope fluttering in his stomach, somewhat like a small bird unsure of its flight. He's not the best at dates and probably never will be, but for some reason, feeling this sort of apprehension is unlike anything else he's felt. It's not uncomfortable per se, but more... exciting?

The two of you stand in the back of the line, shoulder-to-shoulder, hands tucked deep in your pockets and sharing silences punctuated by the occasional nervous giggle when your eyes meet. The line at the kiosk is surprisingly long, a mix of bundled-up families with laughing children and young couples warming their hands around steaming plastic cups.

When your shoulder brushes against his, Jun freezes for a moment, feeling a warmth spreading through him that has nothing to do with the hot chocolate. He steals a glance at you, finding your gaze already on him, and there's a shy smile that you both share before you look away first.

Then Jun notices it𑁋you're shivering.

It's almost imperceptible at first, a slight tremor running through your shoulders as you shift your weight from foot to foot. He hesitates for a moment, then a nervous breath leaves him. Fuck it.

Without a word, he unravels the wooly scarf from around his neck and drapes it over you, fingers lingering for just a moment longer than necessary as he adjusts it comfortably. You blink up at Jun with wide eyes.

"Sorry I, uh... noticed you were cold," he mumbles, scratching the back of his head in embarrassment.

You glance at him, surprise evident in your eyes, and then you chuckle. "Are you sure? I don't want you to freeze."

"I'll be alright," Jun just assures calmly, though the chill creeping up his neck is a bit hard to hide now.

The line moves forward, and soon you're ordering hot chocolate for the both of you. Jun pays for both, insisting with a small nod when you attempt to pull out your wallet.

As Jun and you clutch the steaming cups, the warmth radiating through the thin plastic felt almost comforting. The park bustles around you, but with each sip, the outside world seems to fade away, leaving only the diffident hum of conversation and the fluttering hope that dances between you.

"So, uh, what kind of animals do you like?" Jun asks, trying to break the ice as you both trail down an empty path close to the icy pond nearby. He's not exactly smooth with conversation, but he figures asking about your supposed love for animals is a safe bet. "I've been told you like them."

Your eyes light up as you take a swift, long sip of the hot chocolate, the warmth quickly spreading through you.

"Oh, all kinds!" You answer eagerly. "I volunteer at an animal shelter not that far from here and take care of the injured ones. I have a lot of pets at home too𑁋a hamster, a dog, a few cats, a rabbit... How about you?"

You spoke so quickly that Jun could barely register it all, but he can't help but grin at your enthusiasm. It’s almost infectious.

"Wow, I have, uh... a dog and a cat at home... Gyu and Woozi are their names," Jun replies slowly, almost unsurely.

"That's really cute!" You tell him, catching the way the corners of his lips crinkle up just slightly and how he has to angle his face down just to hide it. "My hamster's name is Hoshi! My dog is Minnie, my rabbit is Hannie, and my cats are Wonu, Nonie..."

Listening to you list your pets' names and some of the ones you've taken care of at the shelter makes Jun feel just a tiny bit lighter with each step he takes with you, and also from the way your eyes sparkle with every word you spoke. He finds himself letting out giggles at your stories of Hoshi's escape attempts and Min's stubborn streak, and for the first time in a long time, he feels truly comfortable, truly seen in a way that didn't feel fake.

Yet it doesn't take long for that feeling to falter just slightly. He doesn't know what Minghao exactly told you about him, or if anything at all𑁋how does he explain to you that he can quite literally talk to animals?

He knew that spilling the beans could go one of two ways: either you'd think he was crazy, or you'd be amazed (and maybe even a little scared). He's never exactly revealed it to any person he goes on a date with because, in the end, after a handful of mishap encounters with animals that don't mean to ruin the date, they end up leaving anyway.

Should he tell you? The words dance on his tongue, ready to tumble out, but that unwanted fear of rejection holds him back once again.

But before he can say anything, a squeaky quack pierces through the air, snapping Jun out of his thoughts. He looks down to see a small duckling waddling towards them, its tiny yellow head bobbing with each step. It stops in front of you, tilting its head inquisitively as it looks you up and down curiously, before heading to Jun's feet and quacking loudly.

It's Boo, one of the park's young resident chatterboxes who loves nothing more than socialising and the occasional spread of gossip. Jun had befriended Boo a while back, often sharing stories and snacks by the pond. But what was Boo doing here, and why does he look so worried? Jun could almost hear a frantic heartbeat echoing through the duckling's chest.

Boo lets out a series of rapid quacks. Jun strains to decipher the splurge of words, picking up snippets about stolen food and a local raccoon, and... how one of his siblings is stuck somewhere.

"Oh my gosh, you're so cute!" You exclaim, kneeling down upon noticing the young duck in front of Jun and extending a tentative hand. "What are you doing out here, little one? You're going to freeze."

Jun could only listen as the distraught duck spills its frustration on you. Yet you didn't understand anything, only continuing to coo about how cute the duckling is, and Jun watches as Boo looks up at him with pleading eyes, urging him to do something. He knew he had to act, but he glances at you, still kneeling with outstretched hand at Boo, and his mind races.

Should he explain his... ability to you and risk making you uncomfortable? Or maybe try to handle it on his own, somehow decipher Boo's instructions and lead you on a cryptic animal rescue mission that might look completely bizarre, delusional, and psychotic?

"Do you think it's lost?" You ask worriedly, glancing back up at Jun. And when his gaze catches yours, warm and hopeful in the glow of the fairy lights surrounding you, a surge of determination pulses through him.

Jun only quietly chuckles at Boo's attempts to tell you his name, his tiny feathered body vibrating with slight annoyance, but your gentle cooing and outstretched hand seem to soothe him a little. The sight stirs something deep within him, a warmth that spreads beyond the simple comfort of the hot chocolate from earlier.

"He's not lost," Jun says, his gaze meeting yours. "He's... a friend. And he's telling us a story. Oh, and his name is Boo, by the way."

Your brow furrows in confusion, a tiny crease appearing between your eyes. “You… understand ducks?”

Jun offers a hesitant smile, a knot of anxiety twisting in his stomach. There's no going back now.

“It’s a bit more than that,” he admits sheepishly, watching your expression shift from curious to intrigued. “I can, um, like... sort of talk to animals, I guess. Or they sort of talk to me, basically, yeah..."

The silence that follows is deafening. Jun braces himself for a wave of disbelief, rejection, maybe even a startled shriek. But instead, your eyes widen with awe, a growing smile forms on your lips, and Jun can't quite bring himself to tear his gaze away from you. He'd taken a leap of faith, and you, instead of running for the hills, were looking at him with... wonder?

"Wow, that's..." You breathe, voice hushed with wonder. "I-I mean I always knew that... sort of existed? Like, in research papers and ancient history, but meeting someone who can actually do it is just..."

Jun blinks, a bit taken aback by your reaction.

"You're not... freaked out or anything?" he asks cautiously. "Like... you actually believe me?"

"Jun." You turn to him, shifting so that your knees are slightly touching in the snow. "Minghao told me like... a lot of things, or tried to at least. I mean, at first I found it ridiculous, then I realised that this is Xu Minghao telling me this, and if he's vouching for you, it must be true. And, well... I really wanted to get to know you too."

Oh. "Oh," Jun mutters, cheeks flushing and face burning. Minghao, of course. He should have known his best friend with a 'credible' reputation wouldn't simply set him up on a blind date without throwing him under the bus a little bit. "I mean, it-it's nothing too fascinating. No mind-reading or telepathy exactly, just… understanding their gestures and stuff. It's kind of like learning a new language, you know?"

"Well, can you tell me what Boo is saying then?" You quirk up expectantly, and Jun swears he cannot handle more than five seconds of you peering at him without melting completely. His heart does a little double flip in his chest, landing somewhere around his ankles.

Jun chuckles, a warm sound that feels right at home amidst the snowy air. Then he takes a deep breath, steadying himself under your gaze, before turning his attention back to the little duck at his feet.

"Alright, alright," he teases, ruffling Boo's feathers playfully. "Don't get jealous, little guy. Spill it."

Boo then goes on an insistent frenzy of quacks, and you could only watch in awe as Jun listens carefully, nodding and humming in response. There's a certain magic in the air that you can sense, as if you've stepped right into a fairytale of some sorts. The small duckling then looks up at you with begging eyes, as if seeking your help as well. Jun shoots you a quick glance, and you can see the uncertainty in his eyes.

"He's pretty worked up," he admits, clearing his throat. "He's telling me about a raccoon that stole his flock's food, and... um, one of his siblings is stuck in a log somewhere. I have some food with me, but he wants to find his sibling first. He knows the way."

"Then let's do it," You say, rising to your feet and dusting off the snow on your pants.

Jun hesitates again, staring at you in slight disbelief𑁋you want to come with him? He glances at Boo, who lets out a frustrated quack, urging him to make a decision. Then he looks back at you, your kind eyes holding his own, and suddenly the choice becomes clear.

"Do you trust me?" Jun asks softly, his heart pounding in his chest.

You hold his gaze for a moment, a thoughtful look on your face. Then a smile blooms across your lips, one that reaches your eyes and seems to chase away the worry.

"I trust you," You answer, stretching an open hand towards him.

Jun feels a warmth spread through him, and he grabs your hand in his. Relief and something else courses through him, like excitement and perhaps a bit of fear. You were in, and that was all that mattered.

Boo lets out a triumphant quack, and with him waddling excitedly at your feet, you follow Jun deeper into the park, the fairy lights casting long shadows against the snow-covered ground. It's a strange sight𑁋you walking on one side of Jun and a duckling trotting on the other𑁋but with every step, whatever awkwardness that was lingering seems to melt away.

And maybe, just maybe, something else was blossoming too.

taglist (open) ʚɞ @enhazen @haowrld @icyminghao @slytherinshua @jeonride @lockburn-castle @vrnism @weird-bookworm @mhlsymlysn @ryuwonieebae @yeonjuns-redhair @wonwooz1 @woohaeyo @mark-geolli @caramyisabitchforsvtandbts @aaniag @wootify

[theseventhdimension]

Filed Under: Unprofessional

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner + Gn! Reader (Familial)

Word Count: 1.3k+

DNI: Everyone is welcome!

Author's Note: (Deep breath in) I'm REALLY hoping that this reads off as Hotch trying to learn to be a better father/ person to others since not getting to see jack as much in the divorce and his fatherly instincts come out when he sees you but he doesn't know what boundaries you have (Sigh out, deep breath in) and NOT like it's trying to be romantical and majorly older Hotch is going for majorly younger reader.

Anyway. This is about care. And boundaries. And someone learning how to show up without screwing it up worse. NOT an age-gap romance. Thank you for coming to my ted talk.

Hotch knows—really knows—he shouldn’t be doing this. It’s a step outside protocol, a step into the personal, and God knows he doesn’t take that lightly.

The fluorescents buzz above like a swarm of agitated insects, their hum bouncing off the empty walls and colder now that the hum of conversation has died. Everyone else has long since packed up, gone home to families or empty apartments.

But not you. You're still there—shoulders hunched like sandbags, eyes hollowed out by too many nights of too little sleep. You look like you’re bracing for impact.

Hotch watches from the shadows of his office. He shouldn’t. He knows he shouldn’t. This crosses a line—Hell, multiple lines, probably. The Bureau loves lines.

But there you are, unmoving, your fingertips twitching slightly as they graze paperwork you stopped reading twenty minutes ago. There’s a look in your eye, distant and flat, like you’re seeing something no one else can. Something that doesn’t blink.

Hotch curses softly to himself and rises.

Shit. Should I leave them alone? Am I reading into this?

But the thing in his chest—the one that tightens every time he sees you withdraw like this—wins.

He descends the steps like a man walking into fire.

“Come with me,” he says, tone clipped, unreadable.

You blink up at him, confused. You always do when he uses that voice with you. You follow orders, sure, but always with that little pause—like you're trying to decode whether it's Hotch the Unit Chief or Aaron the... whatever he is to you.

Friend? Disaster-in-waiting? God help him.

Still, you rise without question, your movements slow and sluggish, as though gravity clings to you more cruelly than it does anyone else. Your eyes scan his face like you're looking for something solid. You don’t find it. He’s not offering much.

This is a bad idea. This is probably harassment. But he’s already leading you outside.

The night air hits like a slap—sharp and clean. Your shoulders twitch at the cold, but you don’t complain. You never do.

Hotch unlocks the SUV, and you slide into the passenger seat like it’s instinct.

Shit, what am I doing? I just abducted a subordinate with depression. Too late now.

You say nothing on the ride. He doesn't expect you to. Still, every glance he sneaks your way just confirms it—your body’s here, but your mind is still buried under something he can’t quite reach.

Until he pulls into the strip mall parking lot and you lift your head.

Your voice is a rasp. “...Why are we here?”

He nods toward the warm glow of the 24-hour department store, and gestures at the racks inside, to the muted tones of thick jersey pajamas and soft thermal sets.. “Pick something to sleep in. You’ll need it.”

You hesitate. “For what?”

“You’re not going home tonight.”

Oh God. That sounded like a threat. Did that sound like a threat?

You just stare at him. Not upset—more like you’ve been hit with a snowball full of sentiment and don’t know how to react.

“…I’m staying with you?”

“If that’s alright,” he adds quickly, voice barely above a breath. Consent, Hotchner. Jesus.

You nod, slow and deliberate, like you're trying not to spook the moment. “Yeah. Okay.”

The store is over-warmed and under-lit. You move through it like a ghost, trailing your fingers across soft flannel and cotton like it's unfamiliar terrain. You gravitate toward the earth tones—dark browns, soft greys, forest greens—predictable, really. The darker the color, the less likely it is to show blood.

Hotch watches the calloused pads of your fingers test the hem of a long-sleeved set. You nod once, quietly. “These.” He takes it from you.

Am I being weird? I'm being weird.

At checkout, you hover behind him like a shadow. He wants to say something witty, grounding, anything—but words feel like a bad idea. He already feels like he’s pressing too hard against glass. You might crack. Your eyes flicker everywhere but his, but you don’t leave his side.

When he hands you the bag outside, your hand brushes his. It's barely a touch. Don’t read into that. Don’t—

You get in the car again without a word.

The car ride is nearly silent. You don’t speak, and he doesn’t push. The only sound is the low hum of the heater and the occasional shift of leather under your weight. You curl slightly into the door, head resting on the window, your breath a slow fog on the glass. He wonders if you’re asleep.

He wonders if you’ve ever really rested.

The house is dark save for the porch light. Inside, the house is warm, lived-in, faintly smelling of cedar and coffee and something vaguely masculine that isn’t cologne. You glance around like you don’t want to intrude, like you’re memorizing your escape route.

Hotch hands you the bag at the base of the stairs.

You look at him, soft and unsure.

Was I supposed to give him the guest room? Should I— But you take the bag and disappear wordlessly. He exhales like he’s been holding his breath for years.

In the kitchen, he stirs oatmeal.

Is this too parental? Is this condescending??

He adds cocoa. Then a square of chocolate, because he remembers you sneaking one once from the vending machine at 2AM on a case in Philly, and pretending you didn’t. He saw. He remembers everything.

He takes the tray upstairs, balancing his guilt on top of it. he finds you in his bed. Not just in it—on his side, curled up tight, knees drawn to your chest, face buried in his pillow. You’ve changed into the pajamas. Your eyes are closed, but your breathing shifts when he enters. You blink blearily, eyes rimmed with exhaustion.

“…Sorry,” Your voice scrapes out, rough from disuse, frayed like an old shoelace. “Didn’t mean to fall asleep.”

He should not find that comforting. But he does. You don’t have to apologize for needing peace, God, who made you think that?

“It’s alright,” he says softly, setting the tray down. “Here.”

You sit up slowly, the motion a little stiff. He sets the tray in your lap and watches you take it with both hands, careful, like it’s something sacred. Your eyes catch on the cocoa first, then the chocolate melting into the oatmeal, and your mouth twitches again—something close to a smile, if tired.

“You didn’t have to do all this,” you say.

Hotch crouches in front of you, hand resting lightly against the bedframe. “I did.”

You glance up, slowly. “Why?”

“Because you’ve been unraveling,” he says, tone level but firm. “And no one else seems to see it but me.”

You don’t argue. You rarely do. But your gaze softens. You nod once. It means more than words ever could.

He pauses, watching you eat. Then, quietly: “This wasn’t… too much? Me bringing you here?”

You glance over the tray, the cocoa, the pajamas you’re already wearing. You nod. “You’re not making me do anything,” you say. “You’re just… helping.”

He swallows hard at that. Helping. Helping. Like a friend. Like a parent who’s trying too hard and getting it all wrong.

You eat slowly, methodically, like every bite keeps the world from breaking open again. He watches you for a moment, then brushes a strand of hair from your face with gentle fingers.

You flinch—but not away. Just startled. Like no one’s touched you kindly in a long time.

“It’s not how I pictured it,” you admit softly, “first time at your place.”

“Oh?”

“Didn’t think I’d be half-dead when it happened.”

Hotch huffs out something like a laugh. “Yeah. Me either.”

You smile. Small. Real. “Still nice.”

Then quieter: “I won’t let it get that bad again.”

He studies you for a long moment. He believes you. But even if you do—he won’t let you fall alone again.

“I’ll make sure of it,” he says. “You’ve got someone in your corner now.”

[trezelue]

◈On Board Bebop!◈

First post of something to calm my fanfic nerves. Or yours. Well, here goes:

🎇🐴🎇

◈ You're the newest member of the infamous Bebop! *hides an empty food can with the foot* Welcome!

◈ You've got great conditions to stay: the team's healer, an extra hand who won't give Jet any trouble, an extra person for Faye to steal- I MEAN, befriend... and another soul to put up with Spike's grumpiness. How great for him! Fresh meat;

◈ Now, what you didn't expect (and neither did he) was that he would fall in love with you after some observation. Don't get him wrong, there are days and days in the life of a space cowboy, and he is almost always bored to death. And you turned out to be a sensible enough person to always go back and forth in this big old junk cleaning, organizing and going out to buy groceries for the crew, get some sun or have fun by yourself. Your own hectic dynamics, your interests and habits gradually caught his attention; you are not the type to lie on the couch all the time. You save everyone from imminent starvation in the middle of space. You never gamble (although you are a bit of a consumer, but hey, who isn't??). You always help out in everything. How sweet you are!

◈ Look, Spike is reading "Cowboy Handbook #101: Isn't there anything in here that tells you what to do with this person???" ! *Spike looks at the 4th wall, confused*

◈ Let's get to the point: he's fallen in love and he won't admit it. But yeah, he'll do something to show it. Enough is enough, he thought! (someone help this man, please-)

◈ Given the previous events (I hate you, Julia), he's not the best to come right out and tell you everything he feels for you. He has a heart, though, so what's he going to do to say "I love you" without having to actually say it?

◈Had a long, busy day bounty hunting? "Mysteriously" there's a freshly prepared hot tub waiting for you as you head to the bedroom to get your clothes;

◈ Food is scarce again? (no surprises) If you haven't figured this out yet so you can help with your savings, he'll fight anyone to leave you something (he literally got into a shootout with Faye over the last Cup Noodles, I swear-);

◈ Your ship broke down and Jet isn't here to help? Put away your wallet, Spike-Spiegel-Fix-It-All will solve the problem with talent! (Jet later had to intervene 'cause Spike got lost in the instruction manual. But at least he helped a lot);

◈ Going to the market? To a fair? To the pharmacy? Out on the Bebop airstrip? Taking a quick trip to Alba City? To a nightclub? On a bounty hunt? He'll offer to go with you, always making the excuse that "I have nothing better to do" or "I needed to do something there too, can you believe that?" or "What if you need extra hands?". Clearly he'll do this sometimes yes and sometimes no, so as not to look like a damn stalker (in public??);

◈ Speaking of stalking, as I mentioned before, he's a very observant man. He'll take note of the things you like and will occasionally (when he's not more broke than he already is) gift you with your favorite food, a piece of clothing you regretted not having the money to buy before, a book you waited months for to be released, anything. Obviously, giving some excuse as to why he did it;

◈ As for your hobbies, he'll try to learn something about them to start a conversation out of nowhere. He might find some of them boring as hell, but if it makes you pay attention to him, then it'll be worth it. Maybe he'll even dedicate a day to doing one of these things with you;

◈ If you need extra ammunition, support in a firefight, a shield in combat, he'll be there to make sure you get home in one piece (even if that means sitting bandaged from head to toe on the couch for a few days and complaining about the pain);

◈ If you're injured, he'll play nurse (and mask his concern with a few scoldings that you'll retaliate because he's the one who gets injured the most on the team. Anyway, the hypocrisy-);

◈ Don't like cigarettes? Okay, you're really in hell with a bunch of smokers, what bad luck. But he'll realize that too and put out his cigarette as soon as you enter any place he's in (Jet didn't even have to open his mouth to ask, but he definitely did open it in surprise when he saw how quickly Spike put out his newly lit cigarette without any remorse);

◈ If you smoke too, he'll silently share some before you even go through your pockets;

◈ I'm getting very long with this list, so let's look at a behavioral analysis of Mr. Spiegel: grumpy, dull, slightly friendly (emphasis on "slightly"), cool by nature;

◈ "Oh, hi Spike-"

◈ Cut to him getting nervous and then burning his finger when he tries to put out his cigarette too quickly. Or silently sitting down on the couch and giving you space to sit while he tries to shake off the bad mood of the day. Or waving cheerfully at you if his day went better than expected and then going to tell you a (bad) joke he thought of while hunting. Have you guys seen "Split"?

◈ And the funniest thing about this whole dynamic is that you'll never understand why he's like this with you. Questionable? Certainly. Did Jet get it first? Obviously. Will Ed and Ein look at you curiously? Yup. Will Faye make insinuations?

◈ "You know what, newbie? You should learn how to ride your horse."

◈ You're like "what horse?", Ed's like "HORSEY, WHOOP WHOOP", Jet covered Ed's ears and Spike locked himself in the fridge since he's now a tomato. Special guest appearance by Ein barking because he's hungry.

And that's all for today, little horses! Little toucans! Little ferrets!-.........what are you, anyway? 🐴

[americasass81]

Where The Heart Leads

Warnings 18+ for the following:- Mostly Fluff, Use of Pet Name, Very Brief Bomb Mention, Very Brief Mention of Anxiety, Feelings of Insecurity, Very Minor Implied Sex. Seriously do not read if any of this upsets you, the warnings are there for a reason. Feedback is welcomed and any mistakes are my own.

By proceeding you are acknowledging that you are over 18 and are consenting to the content below the cut.

Author’s Note 1:- Some time in the making, this companion piece to my dark/soft CEO Steve Rogers fic Deck The Balls , a special shoutout has to go to @navybrat817 , @stargazingfangirl18 (and of course @drabblewithfrannybarnes ) for inspiring this Hoeliday creation.  Thank you so much lovelies.

Challenge parameters:- CEO Johnny Storm (Character), “Sweetheart, that (article of clothing) just got you added to the naughty list.” (Dialogue), Cuddling for warmth (scenario)

Author’s Note 2:- Although a reader insert in their original tale, for the purposes of this fic, Steve’s gal is given a name here.

Author’s Note 3:- As always, all images have been found through google search.

Synopsis:- It’s the start of the Holiday Season and a mysterious box may just hold the key to your dreams … if you're only brave enough to seize the opportunity.

Pairings:- soft!CEO Johnny Storm x Reader.

Total Word Count:- 5,568

Turning off your computer, leaving your desk and checking in on Francine before you made your way down to the conference room, your mind was still struggling with what you were doing and how you were dressed.  And your friend's reaction didn't help matters.  Working alongside her now these past five years as Johnny Storm's personal assistant, it was safe to say you had ended up with the better boss.  Well at least the more easy going one anyway.  For while Steve Rogers was by the book in office interactions, Johnny by comparison was easy to talk to, quick with a joke and seemed well aware of the type of appeal he had with the ladies.  Not that he ever mixed things up at the office as far as you knew.  Neither of the guys did.

But Steve, while still easy on the eyes, was definitely far more reserved and expected excellence from every member of staff that considered this their place of employment.  Not that Francine ever seemed to mind and god knows she never complained.  Working every bit as late, if not later, than her own boss Steve Rogers, you just hoped she would take some time to enjoy the Christmas party she had worked so tirelessly to make perfect.  After all, if anyone in the company deserved to let loose and enjoy themselves it was her.  So why then did it feel like that particular task had been passed on to you?  Not that you had time to ask her however as a more pressing question took precedence at this time having been in the back of your mind all day.

--- BEGIN FLASHBACK ---

Stepping off the elevator together that morning as the janitorial staff were just unplugging the last of their equipment, you and Francine continued to chat through the common appointments for the day before the large boxes waiting on your desks brought a stop to your conversation and a puzzled look settled on both of your faces ... for these unexpected deliveries did not belong here.  Looking back and forth now between each other and the mysterious items before then casting your gazes towards the janitorial staff, a quick step out of her office door by Francine told you that she was taking charge of the situation like always.  Something you were only too grateful for as you watched her go.

Striding towards Larry, the head janitor, with a purpose you had seen her display countless times around the office when things weren't running the way they should, a quick conversation later and she was back at your office door now apparently no wiser than when she had left her own.  "Larry doesn't know what they contain or who dropped them off," she explained, glancing now between you and the beautifully wrapped box taking up a nice portion of your desk space, "any ideas what we should do about them?" she then inquired and you had to admit that this was not the reaction you had expected.  After all, Francine had three more years experience of working here over you, which meant she at least should have had some idea how best to handle this.

Thankfully for you however it seemed this question had been rhetorical as she ignored your vacant stare now and hurried back into action.

Striding across the hall towards her own office once more whilst simultaneously removing her jacket, she quickly dropped both it and her bag neatly just outside the door and then carefully moved beside her desk in a manner that still left her with a clear pathway out again should her next actions not go favorably.

Taking mental notes meanwhile on every action she took now from your own office doorway, you moved out into the hallway however when she beckoned you forwards but stopped just as swiftly when she gestured for you to do so.  It seemed she wanted you in the hallway ready to make a run for it should the need arise.  Which didn't bring you any comfort whatsoever.  But her added gesture for you to remain quiet meant this was a concern you were not permitted to voice it seemed.  Continuing to stare in silence now as Francine then slowly, but carefully, brought her ear down to the package, your heart meanwhile thundered in your chest as the seconds ticked by and you didn't know how much more uncertainty you could handle until flesh met paper and finally Francine's thumb appeared upright before your frightened eyes to indicate that everything was all right.

Or at least as all right as it could be given what she had suspected.  No way were you prepared it seemed to deal with a bomb threat now or at any time in the future.  But thankfully you wouldn't have to apparently.  Breathing a sigh of relief now while picking up her jacket and bag and joining her in her office as both of you still looked suspiciously at the exquisite package, Francine next examined it for any signs of identification before asking you to do the same.

Returning to your own office now and noticing no card, writing or anything of any informative value, both of you now took a quick glance at the office clock before Francine decided that enough time had been wasted on this useless endeavor.  So picking up the phone and ringing down to the main floor, a hurried yet precise conversation with Melissa at reception told her that these two packages had not been professionally delivered, had not gone through reception as was the required protocol and were not even mentioned in the catalog of deliveries for any day this week.

Which in your mind left only one possible explanation ... these had to have somehow been arranged by your bosses.  But whether Francine agreed with that assessment remained to be seen.

Placing the phone back down and taking one last withering look at the clock again, Francine next took hold of either end of the cover and carefully lifting it off, pulled back the tissue inside to reveal a glimpse of what looked to be the most beautiful dress she had ever seen before.  Suspecting now that this was probably meant to be worn to the Christmas party taking place beneath her feet this very night, she skimmed her fingers lightly over the shimmering material before placing the cover back on, moving the package to the nearest available out of the way surface and turning her attention back to you.  "Well go on, see what someone gifted you," she said with a smile before watching you walk back to your office while she instead went about starting off her working day.

Doing now as she had done and also revealing a dress far more beautiful and expensive than anything you had ever imagined setting eyes on, let alone wearing, the ding of the main elevator told you your conversation with Francine regarding the possible source of these garments and what to do with them would now have to wait until a quieter time presented you with the opportunity.  As it was, working for Steve Rogers and Johnny Storm, that quieter time would apparently be when the office had shut down for the holiday season and you were on your way to the party in the very same dress that was now meant to be part of that postponed conversation.  And what a conversation that ended up being.

--- END FLASHBACK ---

Looking up from her desk and the mountain of work she had laid out before her as you cleared your throat to get her attention, her eyes practically popping out of their sockets as you gave her a little twirl was nothing compared to the greeting she gave you when you finally stopped moving.  "Well don't you look sexy this festive season.  I hope your secret admirer gets to appreciate you in that getup," she teased with a smile as you made your way further into her office before taking a seat in one of the empty chairs in front of her desk.

Smiling back at her now while your eyes flicked between her workload, her business attire and her own boxed up dress still sitting off to the side where she had left it that morning, you quickly decided now was as good a time as any to tell her your theory on the dresses while making sure that a party appearance had been marked on her calendar.  Her response however was not what you expected.

Confirming that such an appearance was indeed on the cards once she finished up the waiting emails and signed her name to the last few documents in the top folder, your delight took a pummeling however when she pointed out the flaws in your theory regarding the dresses.  For one it seemed that while she trusted Rogers and Storm to handle meetings and run an extremely successful company, that trust did not extend to them knowing how to order two high end ladies dresses and get them delivered to their place of employment without anyone around them ever finding out.  Secondly, which was a point you totally had to agree on, she couldn't see how they could have gotten both of your measurements correct enough for the dresses in question to fit as well as yours obviously did.

No, she may not have known who sent them but she was fairly certain that this was one task way outside the expertise, not to mention the comfort zone, of the two men whose corporate asses both of you covered on a daily basis.  And now that you thought about it from the point of view of all you actually did for Johnny, you kind of had to agree.  Sort of.  But who then did that leave?  However, it was on this question you would have to leave things when Francine kindly pointed out that sitting in her office pondering the who, how and why would solve nothing when the culprit was most likely waiting among the many bodies gathered downstairs at this very moment waiting for your entrance.  An entrance she herself would make when the last i had been dotted and the final T crossed.

Nodding at her now in total agreement as you watched her return to her work as a means of ending the conversation, you wished her a Merry Christmas, rose from the chair and felt a bit better heading off towards the party now with her uttered reassurance that you would see her there later.  If only that feeling could have made the full trip with you however.  Watching the numbers blink down from the corporate offices to the conference floor, your hands smoothing out the fabric and no one to talk to brought out all your own insecurities however as your mind asked itself what exactly might be expected from you if indeed the person who purchased the dress was present to witness you wearing it.  Never mind what everyone else might think.

Stepping out of the elevator now onto the conference floor, the imposter syndrome was louder here than the music seeping out through the crystal clear doors after the trip down however and it seemed to be winning out over the holiday spirit evident in every decoration and partygoer dotted throughout the room ahead..

Watching the elevator close behind you while placing your hand on the door before you, you quickly took a moment to step off to the side and rest your shoulder against the nearest wall as your nerve faltered and the truth of who you were finally won out ... for you truly didn't belong here.  Oh sure, as a personal assistant you had proven yourself more than capable of answering phones, arranging meetings and replying to the countless emails that filled Johnny Storm's inbox on a daily basis.  But everything else?  Dealing with clients.  Arranging events like the one Francine had pulled off this very night on the other side of the wall.  Hell, even handling the situation with the dresses as she had done so efficiently that morning.  No, these were things you were certain you would never get the hang of no matter how many years you worked here.

So what then were you doing standing here in this expensive dress about to enter a party you had no earthly business even attending?  You should simply head back into the elevator, push the button for the parking level and drive yourself home for the quiet, relaxing holiday that always welcomed you like an old friend.  Now if only fate would allow you that opportunity.  As it was it seemed it, or more accurately he, had a different plan in mind for you as a strong body made its presence known against your back just as two suit-clad arms encircled your waist and temporarily short circuited your brain from its fight or flight response.  Which ended up being a good thing given where you were and who those very same arms happened to belong to.

Resting his chin against your shoulder now while holding you still as your brain tried to figure out what best to do in this situation, the voice whispering in your ear suddenly cleared enough of the fog surrounding this development to make you realize you knew this person ... or at least you thought you did.  "Sweetheart, that dress just got you added to the naughty list.  Let's see if I can join you there before this night is over," he whispered before releasing you and moving forward to stand beside your startled form.  "Shall we?" he then continued with a smile while reaching out his hand for you to take before escorting you into the heart of the party.  Which totally blew your startled mind.

Standing beside him arm in arm now as both of you walked through the conference room doors, the music should have settled your nerves and pulled you into the festive season, but your mind was still reeling from the way things were currently playing out.  For it seemed your theory had been one hundred percent correct.

Smiling politely now and shaking hands with anyone that offered you theirs, you and Johnny made a quick, yet graceful, path through the room as he expertly greeted those clients whose sole reason for being here it seemed was to grab some attention from one, if not both, of the head men responsible for yet another successful financial year.  Talking, laughing and spending as much time as he deemed necessary with each client, while also somehow making sure that you were never treated as window dressing, eventually snagging two drinks off the tray of a passing waiter and steering both of you to a quiet corner, your body landing on the soft sofa was a welcome relief beneath you ... even if it did now allow time for the reality of what had just happened to finally hit you.

"Mr. Storm, what the hell was all that?" you asked in a murmured rush before he handed you a glass of champagne which you swiftly emptied in one go if for no other reason than to settle your nerves and stop the babbling you knew was just beginning.  Thankfully however he at least seemed to be far better at handling the situation than you.  As was evident by his response.

Taking a generous, yet controlled, sip of his own drink now while letting his eyes travel the length of your body, it seemed he was happy with his assessment that you weren't about to pass out on him and so began his quick explanation.  Reminding you that the main function of these events was to make the clients feel important enough to mix socially with himself and Steve while also rewarding the staff for the excellent work they did throughout the year, his obligations had been satisfactorily fulfilled and it was now time for him to enjoy himself.  Which was where he hoped you would come in, he continued and this time it was your turn to beckon forward the nearest waitress as another round of champagne was definitely needed to drown out the doubts and questions bubbling up within you once more.  Not that he was having any of it apparently.

Shooing the waitress away and instead allowing you an adequate sip of the liquid courage still contained within his own sparking crystal glass, the music shifting to a slow haunting melody seemed to give him a more appropriate means of distracting you once more.  One you however were not all that excited about.  Taking the glass back from your lips and dabbing a napkin at the small drop of liquid that lingered behind, his hand then reaching for yours again as he now stood up and pulled you gently to your feet caught you off guard just enough to make you believe he was once more leading you towards a client he had probably missed on his initial entrance.  For his actual plan was far worse than you ever could have imagined as his intentions became clearer.

Leading you now to the middle of the floor however as dancing couples parted as they might for important dignitaries, Johnny positioning your body lightly before him while he then placed his hand on the small of your back made your whole world spin with the realization of what he had in mind.  He actually expected you to dance with him it seemed, which was a totally alien concept to you.  After all you had successfully avoided public shamings like this your whole life ... at least until now.  Tuning in on your anxiety however while whispering gently to follow his lead, he next took your hands, placed them respectfully on his own body and closed the distance between both of you before beginning a waltz he hoped would ease your tension and bring out your fun side ... but it seemed it wasn't to be.

Moving with him stiffly as your long forgotten childhood dance lessons tried to carry you along, your mind couldn't steal itself away from the countless sets of eyes following your movements and zeroing in on each and every mistake you invariably made however.  Which in turn only made you more tense.  A fact you were grateful that Johnny at least picked up on when the tune finally ended and he walked you back to the sofa and the little slice of privacy it provided.  Not that it would be enough for you it seemed.

Sitting back down on it now and snatching up his glass to polish off the rest of his now warm and flat champagne before he could even object about what a bad idea that actually was, you were just about to call out for another glass as you had tried to earlier when Johnny instead took charge of the situation once more.  Reaching out and talking your hand again, he pulled you from the sofa once more while silencing any objections you might have with a look that clearly told you to just follow his lead.  Glancing around the room then to make sure your presence was not being observed, he now walked both of you out of the nearest door and led you hand in hand to the first elevator to open its doors.  It seemed he was changing the venue which should have brought you some measure of relief, but that apparently would have been a Christmas miracle.

Stepping inside now and watching anxiously as the doors closed, Johnny pressed the button to take both of you back to the offices, past Francine's now empty one and straight through the heavy wooden doors that opened directly into the C.E.O.s private section.  But your journey didn't stop there it seemed.  Wondering to yourself now if Francine was finally downstairs enjoying the fruits of her labor instead of focusing on the gutted state of her once inhabited office, your mind became further distracted now however as Johnny inserted a key in the panel before you, waited for the doors of these new elevators to open and ushering you inside now placed his thumb over the P1 button and pressed it.

Standing beside you then while glancing sideways at you to make sure your anxiety had not rendered you helpless, experience reminded you that this was a trip you had never taken before and as the doors eventually opened on a floor you had never seen in your life, your suspicion was proven true and any anxiety you had felt downstairs had now skyrocketed upwards to world ending levels.  For this was most definitely a private floor and one you were fairly certain you wanted nothing to do with whatsoever.  But was he the type of man to give you a choice?

Turning to face you now as your eyes focused solely on the door opposite, Johnny broke the silence and your staring when he began to speak.  "Well here we are, my private apartment.  I thought, given how ... uncomfortable you seemed with all the attention downstairs that maybe you'd feel more relaxed here," he explained before continuing, "if you want to leave however, I can totally arrange that," he added, placing his hand back on the elevator button for closing the doors now, "but I'm hoping you'll stay," he finished and you had to admit the look he gave you now seriously made you wonder.

Reminiscent of a kid wishing and waiting for something he'd always wanted, could you really deny him then?  Looking frantically now between the apartment door, your dress and your boss, whom it seemed owned both, your thoughts drifted back once more to your earlier question of what payment would be expected for the garment you now wore.  Well, it seemed that question may finally have been given an answer.

But where then did that leave you?  Were you really going to risk your job, one you actually loved, to be another notch on Johnny Storm's bedpost?  Oh sure, you may have only worked for him these past five years and you would definitely be the first to admit you didn't know every finer detail about his life, likes or dislikes.  But your ears still worked.  You had, like everyone else you imagined, heard the rumors running rampant throughout the office gossip pools about the scores of broken hearts Johnny Storm and Steve Rogers had left scattered all over the New York area.  But was it actually true and if so, did you really want your name added to that list as you searched through the unemployment ads after this whole thing inevitably came crashing down?

Calling your name now to bring you out of your thoughts and get your attention back on him, a reassuring glance at his fingers still hovering where he had left them and it seemed however that your mind was made up.

Allowing you to enter the apartment first as the door slid into the wall to facilitate your passage, the sight that greeted you here however was not quite what you had pictured.  Not that you had ever pictured what Johnny Storm's corporate apartment actually looked like.  In fact, before tonight, you never even imagined using the words corporate apartment for either of these guys.  The men came to work, took meetings and gave out directives.  But then, whenever work finally cut them loose and afforded them a modicum of rest, you assumed they returned home or to hotel suites and did whatever it was big, successful C.E.O.s did until the corporate world called out to them all over again the next morning.

At least that's what you always thought.  They certainly didn't live in a place like this.  For looking around this open plan space now told you that this was no booty call, bachelor pad.  Not that you knew what those even looked like, mind you.  But this place certainly had a touch of love about it.

For starters, the white and blue Christmas decorations tastefully placed throughout the kitchen and living area showed signs of use upon closer inspection and when Johnny appeared with two mugs of hot chocolate and marshmallows, inside Santa and a snowman no less, you knew these mugs at least were not picked up at some fancy corporate office decorating store.  These mugs had been picked out with a love of the season in mind, used for the time period it covered and carefully stored away afterwards to be pulled out again twelve months later.  They were a personal item.  One of many you now noticed prominently placed around the apartment as you took the snowman mug from Johnny and let your eyes wander while the delicious liquid calmed you in a way the champagne downstairs couldn't seem to do.

Or maybe it was the apartment and its homey feeling that was phishing away your anxiety.  For your eyes could confirm the place was definitely lived in.

Moving away from the kitchen area now and the few dirty food items waiting in the sink, a sweater thrown on the arm of the sofa, logs piled up by the side of the fireplace that had just previously been used if the ashes in the grate were any indication, a tie hanging on the end of the stairs banister leading up to what you assumed was the sleeping area, this place, wrapped in all the trimmings of the holiday season definitely felt more like your scene than the party you had left a few floors below you.

And perhaps that's what Johnny had picked up on as he now joined you by the Christmas tree that seemed to hold so many items near and dear to his heart.  "So tell me, is this more your comfort zone?" he inquired gently as his unoccupied hand came up to rest against your waist once more and you found yourself slipping back against his larger frame as you had downstairs when he first appeared behind you.

"Yes, it's beautiful," you confirmed, "but why bring me here?" you asked, even though you knew he had told you why when the elevator doors had opened on this floor.  But maybe you needed to hear him say where his mind was going.  At least that had been the plan until he actually complied with your request and started talking.  Then the bubble burst.  Taking your hand yet again and walking you over to the sofa which now seemed to be a prerequisite in your dealings with him, no amount of hot chocolate, champagne or any other alcoholic beverage on the planet it seemed would be enough to shore up your courage for the answer you received however.  For it seemed he wanted you.

Not as a one night stand.  Not as some trophy wife he paraded around at corporate functions.  Not even as a broodmare to perpetuate his legacy into future generations.  No, the reality it seemed was far, far worse.  He wanted, as he explained, to love you, marry you and show you the world.  He wanted you to remain on as his assistant if you so wished, but he also dreamed of falling asleep beside you every night, waking up in your arms each morning and sitting beside you old and gray on a balcony or porch somewhere as the twilight of your lives settled in and all the years of love and laughter both of you had shared together had proved to him that you indeed were the one.  The only soul his own called out to.

Stunned into silence now by this naked and soul displaying confession, your eyes searched his frantically for some sign of lies or deception to trick you into giving him something you were not prepared to bargain away through fancy words and expensive deeds, but what you saw shocked you worse than the cold tendrils of death's touch.  He was telling you the truth.  For his love was as evident here in this moment as his sincerity had been back in the elevator when he promised to let you leave if you so wished.  So what the hell were you supposed to do now?

A one night stand and the possible fallout afterwards might actually have been more preferable now to the path that lay before you here.  A roll in the sheets and the stigma that followed, that you could rebound and rebuild from.  Move to a different company, a different state.  Hell, there was nothing to stop you from simply getting on a plane and starting over in a different country if that's what was left for you.  But this?  What Johnny had just described?  That was a life.  A life built on love, memories and two hearts becoming one.  One did not just rebuild and recover from the loss of something like that and you honestly didn't think you were brave enough to find out if you could.  But what option then did that leave you?  Were you brave enough either to walk away from even the possibility of such a thing?

Sensing now that perhaps your mind was somehow winning out over your heart and therefore talking you out of something he desperately longed for, Johnny took your hand in his once more and waited now for your attention to slip fully back to him before he spoke again.  "Please, I've told you what I'm thinking and honestly my feelings for you form the basis of all that.  I love your smile, your laugh.  I love how kind and compassionate you are to everyone you work with, without being a doormat.  Hell, I even love how you handle the clients, even the smarmy ones, while still retaining your dignity and decorum," he stated and though you wanted to remind him that Francine for example also possessed those same qualities, something told you he wasn't finished, so you held your tongue and allowed him to continue.

"But most of all, I love how you have never let the gossip of the office dictate your opinion of me, as I see so many others have," he finished and in that moment you caught a glimpse of what you thought was genuine hurt flit across his features and it actually saddened you.  For you alone had seen a different side of him, you had merely been too busy work wise to give it any sort of romantic value.

You had been there after all for the toy drives he had organized and funded from his own personal finances with the proviso that no public trace ever lead back to him.  You had helped sort out paid leave for staff members above and beyond that which was covered in their employment contracts on his authorization whenever he deemed it wholly necessary.  Hell, you had even been part of a meeting with Francine and Steve Rogers three months back when the two C.E.O.s had pooled their resources and called in a handful of favors to ensure that one of their longtime employees would not lose their home due to a health crisis that threatened to wipe them out financially as well as medically.

All this again with the stipulation that no one ever found out.  A good deed was its own reward seemed to be his motto and now it appeared it was more than that.  It was a way of life for him.  A kindness embedded deep in every fiber of his being and one, if you were truly honest with yourself, endeared him to you on a human level.  So why then couldn't you tell him this?  Was it really a fear of things falling apart?  Or worse yet, was it the fear that the more time he spent with you outside of work, the more he would realize you were never truly worthy of his love to begin with?  You didn't get to figure this answer out however when Johnny broke your thought pattern once more, as seemed to be his super power, and asked you now to simply tell him what your heart felt.  And that it seemed did the trick and broke the dam wide open on all that you had ignored these past five years.

For you did indeed love him also.  You loved his looks, you loved his business skills and sense of humor, but as he had just described of you, you loved the heart he tried so hard to hide away from the world and as these exact words tumbled from your lips, you knew now which path your future lay on when hours later as your naked bodies lay cuddling for warmth in Johnny's bed, the life he spoke of earlier called both of you now into its waiting embrace.  And given all that you knew about him and what your body had just experienced beneath his sheets, walking away from him had stopped being an option when your orgasmic haze had died away and the love you indeed felt for each other was all that remained to carry you onwards.  For you couldn't live without him and, where this thought had once terrified you, it now brought you a future you reached out for and grabbed hold of with a newfound certainty that everything was finally right with your world.

[hollow-lime-green]

hi, anon from "t/b discourse is dumb" ask here 👋 this conversation actually is really interesting and i wanna add a little more if thats okay. (how long is the average anon ask? im not new to fandom but i am relatively new to tumblr and its etiquette... so sorry if this is too long. ive done my best to condense it 😭 there's just too much to say and im a rambler)

i hope i didn't come off as blaming anybody for their response to harassment and such, i don't want to contribute to that. my ire is only pointed toward people who make it their business to hurt others over innocuous fandom happenings, those people who leave dickish comments on fics and send anonhate and mass qrt on twitter. but like i said, expecting those kinds of people to go away any time soon is not really something i have hope for at this point. you put it well: people get so emotionally invested --- and i too Love getting emotionally invested when it comes to fiction --- that logic stops being a factor. people all over the internet also tend to struggle with simply disliking something and leaving it there. you're allowed to dislike/disagree with something without turning it into a moral failure when it's all down to preference and the characters involved are not Real

i just wish more people saw the value in Healthy™ discourse. hell, even if someone's opinion ticks you off, that doesn't mean you can't engage in an open minded discussion with them, if you want to. but people can't do that even outside of niche online fanbases.

i would love to share my own opinions on t/b dynamics for satosugu and to learn why others may feel differently. actually, stsg is the first yaoi ship ive been this invested in, though it's been a while now, and reading fics for them has opened up a Lot of doors of thought for me that i wanna talk to someone about. but there's such hostility around the topic that opening that discussion up to the general fandom public hardly feels worth the risk, as much as i want to. that kinda leaves one floating out at sea here. so i have these conversations where i can, but i'll also block people over simple things. not because i think they're evil or their opinions are invalid, but because i really do just want to have fun, and previous fandom experiences have exhausted me with how much of the same repetitive venom i can personally handle at once

welcome back anon, and feel free to ramble away. honestly this has been a nice side quest for me during the thesis-ing, believe it or not.

if you want to have discussions/share takes on stsg (or fandom meta), then feel free to keep sending them anon, and i am happy to host that discussion in our friendly little corner. i haven't gotten anything nasty in my inbox, and i think everyone commenting and engaging with the posts on my blog is pretty friendly and level headed :)

i think it's possible that some people could get offended by your previous ask? but it's very obvious, to me, anyway, that what you are saying with "t/b discourse is dumb" is "this drama is dumb why are we doing this why can't we just have fun". you can twist the words, but that's the clear sentiment that I think 99% of us are trying to get across here.

and that also does not conflict with empathizing with and supporting people who have been targeted by this harassment. in fact, i would say out of anyone, they are probably most securely in the camp of "this drama is dumb please let's stop".

as @fushiglow pointed out, part of the reason fandom can get so vicious is due to depersonalization. none of these people would be acting so fuckin foolish in person. but across the screen, it is a lot safer and easier to be an absolute asshole than when you have to look someone in the face as you tell them that they are literal scum for your opinions on dick in ass, or something.

over the past few months i have been struggling with this in reverse, actually. one of my gaming group members almost definitely voted for trump (white women... we need to talk). i get so worked up when i think about it, because i hate her for it, especially her reasons for it (she is antichoice). and yet, when I see her in person, when we hang out, it is so easy to remember that she is my friend and she held my hair back when I was puking after my other gamer friends gave me too many free beers (blue moon isn't worth it guys).

one other thing i would like to add, and part of why i'm so happy to post this ask, is that conversations are not sentences. you get to clarify. you get to add. you get to change your mind. real 'discourse' (note: this word has lost all meaning in the year of our lord 2025) or debate is an exchange of ideas, whether it's about dick in ass or how we react socially in the situation of being attacked for dick in ass. keeping the conversation going to clarify these things, like your intent with the last ask, is important and necessary! it's what keeps us from being xitter/bluesky. we don't need to live as zingers and soundbytes on a text-based forum. we have the space to express ourselves fully, as many times as that takes. and i think that helps build back the empathy that is lost with the lack of face-to-face, voice-to-voice communication in online spaces.

so in the words of the great philosophers re: t/b discourse:

any hole's a goal

[ocielot]

hiiiii i just started getting into metal gear like a month ago and ive been enjoying reading everyones thoughts and headcanons as i get to know the series sooo tell me about your favorite metal gear ships :3 you can just yap about any thoughts or headcanons you have about them (and also maybe if you have any headcanons about any of the characters sexualities?)

hi! thank u so much for this, welcome to the fandom, you’ve already made some banger posts haha. if i start getting into all my hcs this post will be wayyy too long (and i will end up talking about those at some point anyways) so i’ll just give my general overview of how i see each, plus a “theme song” because i am addicted to My Playlists. under readmore bc i am Unhinged and this is Unbearably Long

ships

otasune - THE mgs ship of all time. only pure and stable relationship in the series. those guys were so in love and needed eachother so bad in many ways. their gay love really did save the world. lots to say about them but i keep writing too much and deleting it but if i may emphasize one thing it’s that the end of mgs4 is BASICALLY A MARRIAGE PROPOSAL? can everyone get more insane about this please? theme song: night sky patrol of tomorrow by orangestar ft ia (despite being vocaloid, this is snake pov)

bosselot - i love unrequited love. the only thing better than unrequited love is bonkerballs crazy unrequited love. and that’s what bosselot is. everyone needs to start playing with me in this unrequited love space right MEOW! big boss appreciates ocelot and sees him as a close comrade but he is not at all in love. ocelot is so in love it’s all consuming. both parties know how the other feels. this doesn’t mean they never fucked. theme song: i’m your man by leonard cohen

bbkaz - when it starts, both parties just see it as Intricate Rituals to let off steam (kaz)/assert dominance(bb), but a certain blonde catches feelings, though he would never admit that to himself or others! maybe big boss is fully aware or how kaz feels for him, maybe not. big boss enjoys feeling power and leverage over kaz and feels a possesiveness which is probably the closest he gets to romantic love for anyone in the series. and then they have the most destructive situationship breakup EVER! it’s so delicious. theme song: only time will tell by asia (stole this from kojima himself, it’s a casette tape in mgsv)

strangeboss: sorry i ALSO see this one as unrequited love, but it is still great. maybe they slept together a couple times and i think the boss did genuinely appreciate strangelove but i think she was like damn this lady is too crazy and young for me. like ocelot tho, strangelove’s love was not deterred. it’s just hers resulted in less evil shit lol. i think this ship is underappreciated, and people should talk more about strangelove, her love for the boss, and the ripple effects of that love. also the otasune parallels can we talk about the parallels. theme song: landslide by fleetwood mac

sexualities

ok i actually have a post in my drafts about this, but what interests me more than characters’ sexualities is how they identify. because i love Denial and it’s realistic considering the characters and time period. i’ll go into it more in another post but here are my hcs for their real sexuality and what they call themselves.

theboss: bi, id’s as straight, but could admit to an attraction to women if pressed

bb: gay but romantically stunted (not aro! it’s a diff thing!) id’s as interested in dominating men, but uninterested in sex or romance

ocelot: gay, probably id’s as such but could get pretentious about it

kaz: bi, id’s as straight even with a gun to his head

strangelove: canon out lesbian!

venom: straight, id’s as whatever big boss’ deal is thanks to Ocelot’s Reverse Conversion Therapy™

solid: gay. thought he was bi for a long time but realized his “attraction” for women was just something he felt he was supposed to do. i think he has always been surprisingly accepting of his attraction to men, but obviously was not out for various reasons, including don’t ask don’t tell.

gray fox: gay but like solid doesn’t ask doesn’t tell

liquid: gay only bc he is a clone of bb and i believe sexuality is innate but i am so uninterested in him it’s whatever

solidus: gay bc he is a bb clone, but absolutely had a wife and shit for his presidential career. probably never was able to confront his sexuality even a little bit. aw damn am i gonna start feeling bad for solidus? (probably not)

otacon: bi, but in denial until he realized his feelings for solid snake, which recontexualized a lot of stuff about how he reacted to the jjba guys

raiden: metrosexual. sorry.

ee: fujoshi

everyone else has a clear cut sexuality (vamp), i don’t care enough about to write about (volgin, raikov, that guy vamp banged) or i just see as straight.

[bleachbleachbleach]

Hiiiii, re ur post abt goals and the whole being more active in the community thing -- I'll try to remember to interact with u more than just liking/reblogging things! I've been super quiet on my own blog since I had burnout two years ago but I'm trying to get back into doing more than just occasionally posting fic, and honestly I love a lot of ur head canon posts and metas etc. I probably won't read any of ur fic because I'm a Bit Weird in that for some reason I hate reading fic in the fandoms I write for (but still love metas and headcanons? Brains sure are weird) but everything else I'll try to actually Write Words instead of letting my thoughts stay in my head!

This is such a sweet message! <3333333

I would totally welcome conversation, and it’s great to know that you are open to it, too. Because I feel like Tumblr as a platform runs on a parallel play model on purpose, and most people probably just want to do that, and my hesitation in going full throttle about using Tumblr the way I would want is my fear that it is going to be obnoxious/overbearing/overwhelming (e.g. driving people to madness via “Why is this person talking to me… I didn’t want to talk to them...”).

It’s so funny you should say that, re: enjoying hcs/meta but not fanfic in your writing fandoms, because I think about that divide a lot! Half the time I spend writing most* headcanon posts is actually time spent workshopping “sooooo…. how do I say this without saying ‘well, in my fanfic…’” because it’s probably something I already wrote in fanfic or notes for fanfic, but 1) I want to talk to people about it, and the chances that I will get to if it’s written in a fanfic are fairly slim, and 2) I want to hear other people’s versions of it, too. In their fanfic, if they write fanfic, but also their posts or tags!

But that can be complicated because in my mind, [insert headcanon post topic] tends to be fairly situated in context—the context of fic things having happened, or things that are going to happen, or thematic undercurrents/relationships—so it becomes a project in trying to make the proposition NOT sound completely bananas without that context/something being written in a particular way. Which can sometimes be its own kind of fun and is sometimes like “good grief, I could have simply been writing more fanfic!” (I feel like I should emphasize here that no one should feel obligated to read my fanfic. I mean, I want people to want to read it! But I very much do not want anyone to feel like they Have To or like they need to explain why they’re not!)

Our approaches are opposite, in that my brain is fanfic forward, both for myself and for others’ fanfic. But I do feel like a lot of RP blogs share your orientation re: not wanting to read other versions of the character they write for! I don’t know if this is where you, specifically, are coming from, but I’ve read on some of the RP blogs that it has a lot to do with having a strong investment in their own particular color on things, and wanting that centered and front of mind. (Which isn’t to say that sentiment isn’t true of most people, I think, because otherwise they wouldn’t write them that way—it’s true of me—but ymmv on how much someone wants to see the other iterations.)

For me, I know that I’m a lot less adventurous about Interpretations That Excite Me for my blorbos than other characters I might read for. Like, to use a silly example, in my mind Soi Fon is 100% Lesbian (which stands out in my headcanon space because I generally assume most everyone in Bleach would be on some level willing to get down with most anyone else), but did I click on Soi Fon/Vegeta when I came across it anyway? Absolutely I did. I barely know who Vegeta is. But my down-to-clown boundaries with Soi Fon are very low, nearly tabula rasa, so go get Vegeta, girl!!!! Whereas for like, Hitsugaya, I’m probably not going to read Hitsugaya/Vegeta because I am not actually a crossover person, my knowledge of DBZ is limited to The Osmotic Experience of Having Grown Up in the 90s, and my favorite version of Hitsugaya’s sex life is the absence of one.

*Of course, there are other headcanons posts in the omake/filler vein that are simply too dumb (affectionate) for me to want to write full fanfic of, like the Gotei regatta or the Gotei bowling league, or that “I think the average shikai user would probably be pretty good at driving a car but they would NOT be considerate or lawful users of said car” post.

[beaconfeels]

For Your prompt ask :

Steter

Phrase : "Say yes to Heaven/Say yes to me"

(I hope this doesn’t only make sense to me. I listened to the song, and this is my loose interpretation of ideas it gave me)

The pain is searing, but it won’t kill him. The sounds of fighting still assault his ears, but it sounds far away now. 

Warm hands on his face. Cool water being put to his lips. Gentle fingers stroking his hair. How long has it been since he’s felt care like this?

”You should be out there,” Peter chokes out. 

“Nah, they don’t need me,” Stiles says. He’s maneuvering Peter’s head up to rest on his thigh now, goes back to stroking his hair once he’s got him situated how he wants him. 

“I’ll heal,” Peter says.

”I know,” Stiles replies. “Just rest now.” 

****

Spain was nice. A little sunny for Peter’s taste, but it had been very alive. Very different from Beacon Hills. 

Three years gone, but here he is again, walking through the doors of his favorite bookshop. The floors creak under his feet. Dust dances in the light streaming in the windows. Someone is tapping a rhythm onto the front counter. 

“You still work here?” Peter asks Stiles. 

“I own it now,” Stiles says. He tilts his head and looks at Peter, smile bright and welcoming, like Peter didn’t disappear for three years without so much as a text. 

Something eases in Peter’s chest. “What book do you recommend for me?”

“Well-” Stiles begins, and then they’re off. Discussing books and new authors, and who Stiles has been reading lately, as if no time has passed at all. 

****

”Apparently all my things I left were put in a secure storage facility. You wouldn’t have anything to do with that, would you?” Peter asks Stiles.

“Figured you’d want it again at some point, even if you didn’t think you would at the time.”

Peter leans against the counter. “The thing is, they said it got put in there a week after I left. How’d you know I wouldn’t be back soon?”

”I know you,” Stiles says easily. “You’d been off for weeks before you left. You had that ‘ready to bolt’ look in your eyes.” Stiles taps his nose, “Takes one to know one eh?” 

Peter shakes his head, still bewildered. Anyway, he didn’t lose everything again like he’d thought. That’s something. Maybe he shouldn’t question it. 

****

Peter winces a bit as he props his feet up on the ottoman, flipping on the TV. his phone rings minutes later. He’s tempted to ignore it, but curiosity gets the better of him when he sees it’s Stiles calling. 

“Hello?”

”Hey, how are you doing?” Stiles asks.

”Fine.”

”How’s the leg?” 

He needs to stop being surprised by the things that Stiles notices. “Hurts a little, but it’s getting better.” 

“It got you with its stinger, huh?” Stiles asks, sounding sympathetic. 

“Yes. I didn’t think anyone noticed.”

”I notice everything about you,” Stiles says. “Take care of that leg. I heard ice can help with the pain.”

”Okay, I will. Thanks for the tip,” Peter says, mind still stumbling over Stiles’s admission. 

“I’ll check on you tomorrow,” Stiles says, and for the first time in a long time, Peter trusts a promise. 

****

Peter paces his living room. Stiles is in his kitchen cooking him dinner. It’s the third time this month, and all he wants to know is why. 

Finally he gives in. “What do you want from me?” He asks Stiles, maybe a little more fiercely than he means to.

Stiles doesn’t seem phased by it. “Anything you want to give me. A good conversation. Friendship. Romance. Mutual acknowledgement of the other’s human needs” he shrugs, like he’s not saying anything unusual. 

The world somehow becomes very still and very clear. “You love me,” Peter says, and he’s sure the awe of it comes through in his voice, because Stiles looks up with a wide smile. 

“Yup.” 

“You love me, but you don’t expect me to love you in return?”

“Basically,” Stiles says, carefully plating their food. 

“What if I love you back?”

Stiles takes their plates and walks them over to the table. “Well that would be the ideal,” he says with a light laugh. “Unexpected, but great.” 

Peter sits down and takes a bite of his food. Silence settles over them for a moment, and miraculously there’s nothing uncomfortable about it. 

Peter holds his hand out across the table, and Stiles takes it. His feet wrap around Peter’s ankle, not a trap, but an anchor. “I think I love you too,” Peter says. 

[miraclewoozi]

i do not give permission for anything posted on this blog to be reposted or translated either here on tumblr, or on any other platform.

minors are not welcome and DO NOT HAVE MY CONSENT to read anything posted on this blog.

everything shared here is self indulgent fiction and in no way reflective of how any of these people think, feel or behave in real life.

ODE TO A CONVERSATION ( stuck in your throat ). everything with seungcheol has always been easy. easier than with anyone else, anyway. ( smut. exes to lovers. 6k words. )

ELECTRIC. your best friend is many things. smart, funny, empathetic, a complete and utter pain in your ass to name but a few. and on the evening of his twenty-eighth birthday, you discover something a little unexpected: jeonghan is very afraid of thunderstorms.  ( smut. fluff + mild angst. friends to something? 6.3k words. )

BURNIN' UP. you really were just trying to enjoy a cool treat by the pool on a hot summer’s day. honest. ( smut. friends who fool around. mean!dom josh. 3.1k words. )

nothing here, yet !

JUST THE TWO OF US? ( prompt drabble. requested. fluff. friends to lovers. 1.1k words. )

BEST BEHAVIOUR. ( prompt drabble. requested. smut. sub!soonyoung. 1.1k words. )

nothing here, yet !

DON'T SWEAT IT. today — the first time in a small forever that he forgot to check the battery on his earphones (and subsequently had them die on him mid-workout) — jihoon is forced to notice you. ( fluff + smut. gym crush. strangers to lovers. 18k words. )

VERSACE ON THE FLOOR. or, the time you and your homebody boyfriend* decide to just… not go to your dinner plans. ( fluff. suggestive. est relationship. 2.4k words. )

LEE JIHOON, YOUR EMOTIONAL SUPPORT I.T GUY. (prompt drabble. requested. coworkers to lovers. fluff. 2.3k words.)

nothing here, yet !

nothing here, yet !

UNDER THE COLLAR. your unlucky-in-love best friend goes on a date with someone who, by all accounts, should be his perfect person. so… how exactly do you end up being the one who tucks his sorry, drunk ass into bed? ( fluff. some angst. mildly suggestive. pining. friends to ???. 4.6k words. )

TIL DEATH DO US PART. ( prompt drabble. requested. angst. zombie apocalypse au. TWs : death/blood/body horror. ~900 words. )

[ 22:38 ] ( smut/pwp. 1.5k words. )

NOW YOU SEE ME. you can't say you're surprised that your boyfriend leaps at the thought of throwing some sensory deprivation into the mix of your sex life, but you're maybe a little shocked at just how into it he gets. ( smut. est relationship. blindfolding. 4.5k words. )

NETFLIX AND --? you try everything in your power to try and help your workaholic boyfriend unwind on his night off. you quickly find out that vernon doesn’t know how to just do nothing. ( domestic smut. est relationship. 2.3k words. )

[ 5:55 ] ( smut/pwp. married au. christmas morning. 2k words. )

DO YOU DREAM OF ME? the first time you kiss your soulmate, you’ll open your eyes to a world of colour. the problem? vernon hates the thought that he might pull away from you and still see in monochrome.  or, five times he wanted to plant one on you, and the one time you beat him to it.  ( fluff. mild angst. soulmate au. 5 times fic. f2l. 9.6k words. )

HIGH FIDELITY. | PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 getting back on the horse is hard, and failing to hit it off with the cute gamer guy you went for a drink with last night has the potential to be your love life’s last straw. but when up and coming rockstar VERNON unexpectedly canters into your life, you find yourself asking one very important question: do you have it in you to saddle up, one more time? ( fluff/angst/smut. up and coming rockstar au. miniseries. s2l. est. 38k words. )

DRIVE. or, the night you realise it’s actually very hard to stay mad at the guy who shows up at your house, throwing stones at your window on a Thursday night, to try and fix something that was your mistake in the first place. ( fwb to lovers. angst, smut + fluff. 7.8k words. )

FOR BETTER, FOR WORSE. (prompt drabble. requested. exes to lovers. fluff/smut. 5k words.)

MTL : able to undo your bra with one hand.

[theroguescientist]

Polish scientist watches Orb: Episode 7

Once again, new episode, new character. Jolenta (bit of an odd name, but people in Ye Olde Times did use to spell things weird) is an assistant at Count Piast's library. She wants to do research of her own, but isn't allowed to join any serious scholarly discussions. They tell her it's because she's not ready yet, but it seems to be good old fashioned sexism, actually.

But she tries her best anyway. #WomenInStem. She has found a secret passage that allows her to listen in on conversations behind closed doors. Also, she writes some guy's papers for him. And the guy seems to genuinely mean well, trying to protect her from too much attention. Too much attention can be dangerous in this world, especially if you're a scholar, a woman or, God forbid, both. But, yeah, it sucks that it has to be this way.

Yeah, I guess the only other way a girl could be a scholar in this era is either becoming some sort of high ranking nun or pretending to be a boy. And if she's a nun, pretty much the only fields she's welcome in would be theology and philosophy. Not a good time to be a woman in stem.

"My name isn't important," she says. The knowledge she has discovered matters more to her than anybody knowing her name.

Damn, I love the contrast between her and Badeni! But (perhaps because I'm somewhere in the middle myself in that regard) I hope she doesn't let him take credit for her work. Stand up for yourself, girl!

And, quite understandably in this world, her scholarly inclinations worry her father. Although, apparently he did encourage them at some point? (Is it just me or does his voice sound familiar? Ha. I almost didn't recognize him, with the clean shirt and genuine concern in his voice. The family drama is gonna be interesting.)

Meanwhile, the boys are starting their research.

"It will take a man of true greatness" "Do you know anyone like that?" "Of course. It's me." I mean, he's not wrong. But.

"No successors"? Arrogant little shit. Badeni clearly has a brilliant mind, but he still doesn't get that this is not how science works (This is somewhat understandable, since it seems like everyone who has ever tried to explain it to him was unreasonably mad at him for being too smart).

Alright, let me criticise his arrogance by telling you things about myself that nobody asked about :P I'm a mathematician. I can't reasonably expect any of my research to change the world. Not directly. It may be applied to the real world in a decade or in a century, or never at all. If it has any real impact on the world, it will likely have somebody else's name attatched to it. And, honestly, I'm fine with that. I don't need a chapter in the history books. If I'm a tiny footnote in a science textbook, any future people I might want to impress will read that footnote anyway. I still get the citations. And I still get to be a part of something.

(But I do want that footnote. I want those citations. That's what I meant by "somewhere in the middle". I'm glad to live in an era where I don't have to be a doormat about it.)

And even this show protrays discovery not as the work of one individual genius, but of a series of people building upon their predecessors' work. And that is how it works in the real world. Because even the most brilliant genius would never get around to discovering anything new if they had to invent basic math from scratch first. You're just continuing something that other people have started, Badeni. And even if you're the one to prove it once and for all, there will still be a lot to discover, using your research. You're just one link in an endless chain. A stepping stone is all any of us will ever be. You don't get to complete all of science. I don't think that's possible.

(And yet, I think a lot of scholars in that era might have actually thought like Badeni here. Isn't that one of the reasons why a lot of alchemists and such wrote their notes in code? They didn't want just anyone using their research. If you can't crack the code, you're not a worthy successor or something. So, yeah, it's not unrealistic. I just don't agree with him.)

The irony of a guy getting into forbidden research that the church wants to suppress burning a letter from his predecessor because it's inconvenient to him.

(Also, not all of it is burnt, if someone finds it, they might still be able to read some of it. Hm…)

Badeni seems to have a problem with helping the poor for some reason. Dude, wtf? The fate that God assigned to them? Are you one of those "sin of empathy" assholes?

Oooh! When he said "people of means" I assumed he was looking for funding, but it seems like there's more to it.

Ah, I see. Jolenta is going to solve the puzzle. And then she's gonna hate working with the guy who wants all the credit for everything. Looking forward to that dynamic too.

And she solved it in less than a day? Impressive. She's smart and determined.

Fun historical fact: Piast is the name of the first historical dynasty of Polish monarchs. By the mid 15th century the Jagiellon dynasty has taken over. No idea if this is at all relevant.

[scarabsinthestardust]

The Hurtin' Kind

MASTERLIST

Josh x male OC

I know I should be working on Tender, but I got this silly little idea in my head and couldn't ignore it any longer. And no, I definitely *checks notes* did not model this character after Orville Peck (I just think he's neat, okay??) If anyone's feeling adventurous and wants to write the actual smut for this, you're more than welcome to (we will have a spring wedding). Anyways, enjoy! And thanks for reading.

Listen to the inspiration here

WARNINGS: drinking; some light, general sadness; implications of sex; I dunno, let me know if I missed anything

word count: 1800+

Josh was not having a good day. It had been stressful, to say the least, and quite disastrous. He’d been at the studio all day trying to record music for their newest album, and nothing seemed to be going right. He couldn’t hit the right notes and kept forgetting the lyrics, which then led to insufferable bickering between him and his brothers. He pushed back, blaming it on their inability to play the music they’d all written together, and before long, everyone was so frustrated they couldn’t look at each other. Josh had been fighting off a headache all day and wanted nothing more than to go home and get some much needed sleep, but he was wired from the arguing and he needed to wind down.

On top of it all, and he hated to admit it, he was lonely. He couldn’t pinpoint when or why he started feeling that way, but it had become an ever-present nagging in his gut, like a splinter he couldn’t free from under his skin. He’d always been the happy one, the one who’s constantly smiling and laughing, the one who gets compared to the sun due to his joyous nature. But sometimes it was exhausting. Sometimes he just wanted to abandon the role for someone else to have, to go some place where no one knows his name, where he could wallow in peace.

That’s how he ended up here, in this dimly lit bar on the edge of town, where he almost forgot he was even in the city. He’s seated at a table by himself, nursing a drink and allowing himself to get lost in his own thoughts. He turned his phone off, and he’s sure to have quite a collection of missed calls and text messages from his brothers, but he wasn’t currently concerned about that.

The atmosphere of the place was kind of relaxing. It wasn’t necessarily dingy in any way. In fact, it was sort of homey. Mostly everyone seemed to know each other, exchanging friendly conversations as they sipped their beers. A couple on the opposite side of the room were leaning into each other, lost in their blissful smiles and subtle touches. Some patrons appeared to be in the same kind of mood as Josh, sitting alone, sorrow painted clearly on their faces. The jukebox in the corner was playing a familiar song – Wicked Game. It seemed appropriate for the climate of the bar.

Josh hummed along quietly to the music as he traced a finger through the condensation on his glass, staring down at the chipped varnish on the table. He wasn’t paying much attention to his surroundings, and he jumped when a deep voice rang out in front of him.

“Ain’t seen you around here before.”

Josh raised his head, fully intending to ask to be left alone, but things don’t always go as planned. He found himself staring at the handsome stranger, intrigued by the way he carried himself, obviously so confident, with a charming smile on his face. His short, reddish beard was neatly trimmed. He was dressed in a maroon, Western-styled button up, his sleeves rolled up just below his elbows, a pair of dark jeans (that fit him nicely if Josh was being honest), and a black cowboy hat perched atop his head. Josh couldn’t help but notice his tattoos, including the snake wrapped around his right arm, its head resting on the back of his hand. He decided to humor the stranger, oddly curious as to where it might lead.

“Yeah, I’m new to the scene.” Josh smiled sheepishly, suddenly feeling uncharacteristically shy.

“Well, I’d love to be the one to show you around.” His accent was thick; he was probably a Tennessee native or hailed from some other deep southern state. “May I?”

Josh nodded, inviting him to sit. The yellow light above the table didn’t offer much in the way of illumination, but the man’s blue eyes practically sparkled in it regardless.

“I’m curious though, why a sweet thing like you is sittin’ here all by your lonesome.”

Coming from anyone else, his words might have been cringe-inducing, but they had heat rising up in Josh’s cheeks. “Just had a long day. Needed to wind down, ya know.”

The man seemed to contemplate Josh’s words, turning them over in his head like he was trying to decide if it was a lie. “What are you actually runnin’ from, Blue?”

Josh was taken aback by the question and the impromptu nickname. “What makes you think I’m running?”

“Hm.” The man leaned forward, his elbows on the table. He maintained such intense eye contact that had Josh feeling squirmy but was unable to look away. “You’ve got a thunderstorm in you. I can see the lightnin’ in your eyes.”

Josh’s heart was racing, the undeniable fluttering in his stomach getting harder to ignore. How does one even respond to something like that? The man’s presence was powerful, and it seemed to make everything and everyone around them melt away. Just being in close proximity to him was enough for Josh to feel the buzz. He wondered what it would feel like to touch the mysterious man, and Josh definitely wanted more. But overall, he was mostly curious. Something in him knew this wasn’t just a basic interaction with a flirty, and likely tipsy, cowboy. “Who are you?” The raspy sound of his own whisper surprised him.

“Most folks call me Colt, but you can call me whatever you want, sweetness.”

He knew that must be a fake name, but it didn’t matter too much at this point. Josh introduced himself in turn, and mindlessly fiddled with the straw in his drink. He hadn’t come here with the intention of leaving with someone, but he was like an insect caught in a trap. Colt just had to flash a smile and Josh was putty in his hands. “Do you want to get out of here?”

Colt grinned. “Thought you’d never ask.”

~

This was a risk that Josh typically would not have taken. The pair ended up at his house; he knew better than to bring strangers there, but it was too late to change his mind now. He put on a record and offered his newfound companion a drink.

“Thank you, darlin’, but I think we both got something else in mind.”

Josh smiled at the implication, a mischievous glint in his eye. He allowed himself to be drawn in by the taller man, melting under his touch as their lips met. It wasn’t soft or romantic, but hungry and desperate. And it was just what Josh was craving. He practically clawed at Colt, removing pieces of clothing as he reached them. He whined when Colt pulled away and grabbed Josh’s hands to still them.

“Relax, there’s no rush. I promise I’ll take care of you, Baby Blue.”

A thought crossed Josh’s mind and he faltered. “Hey, uh… we should…” Colt waited patiently for the curly-headed man to find his words. He was nothing if not a gentleman. “I’m not really looking for anything serious right now.”

“Is that all?” Colt smiled sweetly and pulled him in for another kiss. “This can be whatever you need it to be. I’m all yours tonight, to use, to lie to. I don’t mind either way. I ain’t really the hurtin’ kind.”

Josh searched the other man’s eyes for something… he didn’t really know what he was looking for. Maybe a sign that this was a mistake, a warning to turn back while he still could. But he found none. And if this did turn out to be a bad idea, he would deal with the consequences later. Right now, though, he needed this. He didn’t speak as he grabbed Colt’s hand and led him upstairs to the bedroom, where they fell into a heated clash of lips and skin, fingernails scratching expanses of flesh as the rest of the world and its worries faded away.

~

When Josh awoke the next morning, he felt tranquil. He was warm and relaxed, like he’d just gotten the most restful sleep of his life. Memories of the night came flowing back and he realized he was alone, with no sign anyone had ever been there. If it wasn’t for the soreness in his body, a satisfying ache reminiscent of the evening’s activities, he would have thought it was all just a dream. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t disappointed to find Colt already gone, but he wasn’t surprised. He never really expected him to stick around, and Josh never asked him to.

Still, the sense of peace that seemed to surround him was euphoric. He was almost afraid it would slip away. It was like a high, the best he’s ever experienced, and it did stick with him long enough for things to get back to normal. Josh fell easily back into his routines, the glumness that had been following him nothing more than a wisp. His patience had returned, along with his determination and love for the music they had worked so hard to create. The band was able to find their footing again and pushed out some gorgeous new songs they were all proud of.

After a while, though, Josh got wild hair. He wanted another fix.

He found himself back at the place where it all started. He sat at the same table in the low light, a drink in hand. Except this time, he knew what he was looking for. He scanned the room for the familiar figure, hoping he’d catch those pretty blue eyes again.

He wasn’t sure how long he waited before he resigned, dismayed that his search yielded no results. But he was never one to give up that easily. On the third night of searching of waiting, the doorman stopped him on his way out.

“You’re lookin’ for him, ain’t ya? Colt.”

Josh stared at the man, unsure if he should answer the question. He didn’t want to seem like some creep, stalking a guy he’d spent one night with. He also didn��t want to out himself or spill anything about Colt to someone he didn’t know. One can never be too careful these days. He considered just walking away; he didn’t owe this guy an explanation, after all. But the doorman’s next words stopped Josh in his tracks.

“You won’t find him. No one that’s lookin’ ever does. He’s like a ghost.” He leaned closer to Josh to conceal the conversation from any eavesdroppers. “But don’t worry. He’ll find you. When you really need him, he’ll find you, Blue.”

///

Josh’s jaw dropped. “What? How did you-“ He was interrupted when a couple greeted the doorman upon entry. He said his ‘good evening’ to them before the bartender waved him over to help with something. He spared one more glance before walking off, leaving Josh standing there, mouth agape and so very confused.

TAGLIST

Let me know if you wanted to be added for all works.

@josh-iamyour-mama

[lucidfairies]

hi 🫡

. yes that is me embarrassing the shit outta myself (I actually sent that to a handful of girls)

i. for those of you who may not know, i'm maya. i'm 18, i'm typically a masculine presenting lesbian and I happen to be a she/her. I also am unfortunately asexual

• everyone meat riding rn about why I read and write so much smut as an asexual, I would love for you to know that I'm fighting a losing battle with hypersexuality! that is all I will be sharing on that matter thank you. •

ii. I'm proficient at finding people's instas whether they wanna be found or not!! if this relates to you, you may want to hmu.

iii. um I'm single if that wasn't clear from the kicker.

iv. I have severe Audhd and I have OCD but I don't really count that because you can't really tell it's there. I'm a POTS and scoliosis survivor

(can u tell idk what the hell I'm doing)

v. I will drop my socials if you so want them but I would prefer u DM me cuz I don't need my public insta in tumblr comments tbh (I have insta, tiktok, discord, snap, so on so forth)

vi. I'm still in high school LMAOOO pls I'm not less than eighteen guys don't worry but I aspire to be in the military but I'm taking a gap year

vii. I've been writing since like third grade but over quarantine my parents kinda banished me to our basement and I was doing a lot of things I shouldn't have been doing but now I'm sorta good at writing !!

viii. fics are kinda a side gig, I do write real shit here and there but there's genuinely no point so idk why I do it

ix. I'm what people like to call a whore except I don't fuck around I just talk to like nine people at once (hop off my dick rn)

x. I'm hilariously funny if you ever wanna strike up a conversation

xi. I'm down for ANY conversations. you wanna talk about what kinks some random bitch has based on their appearance? let's talk about it. wanna tell me about the sex you had last night? I'll go get a snack. I don't get triggered by really anything so if u need an outlet, I'm right here bb

xii. I actually have a massive gyatt

xiii. I can curl a lot of lbs and um I can bench some too and I guess do leg stuff (gym girlies rise)

xiv. I'm Jewish but not like Jewish my fam just is, I am probably one of the furthest things from religion and I don't hugely support organized religion (my fav way to describe it is being Jew-ish)

xv. I am a leftist through and through (pro choice, pro science, pro gays, Black lives matter, stop Asian hate, in case you needed clarification on that one) and I avoid knowingly being friends with Republicans at all costs

xvi. I am pro Palestine, nothing anyone will say or do could change my stance on that one.

xvii. I have a cat + dog

xviii. I don't get cold like ever cuz I ski in like 10° weather all winter

xix. I have Duolingo and if u wanna beef it out w a quest then I am definitely down for that because I will beat you (I'm learning Hawaiian and Hebrew)

xx. I'm fluent in German and speak it at home w the fam and I know some Spanish + French

xxi. juice boxes > anything

xxii. some more pics of me will follow whenever I stfu

xxiii. I stand at a whopping six feet tall but I swear I have short person energy

xxv. in my personal opinion I have huge dick energy but you're welcome to put me in my place (I'm a switch and I'll cook for you)

xxiv. if your snap score is more that 300k we can't be friends I'm sorry (mine is 100k suck my c o c k)

xxvi. best position is doggy but I can be persuaded into something different

xxvii. CUNT

xxviii. uhhhh I'm from the East Coast of America so l operate in EST time

anyway it was nice getting to talk about myself for a long time 🫡 feel free to make numerous comments about my life in the comments

anyway y'all here are some for faceless pics that are guaranteed to make u cream (see, hilarious)

sayonara sistas