#but i would never decide that for anyone theyre not my darling

[januaryembrs]

YOU WERE LIKE AN ANGEL TO ME | Spencer Reid x Sunshine!Reader

Request: my DARLING @avis-writeshq says- i’m a menace but i ADORED the spencer fic u posted 🥹 UGH THEYRE SO CUTE YOUR HONOURRRR 👹if it’s okay, may i request another fic with the same couple 🙈 perhaps one day reader is not as sweet or chirpy as she usually is, or she gets injured or threatened in the field? much love and lots of kisses xoxo 🫶

Description: Spencer swore he wanted to hate her. She was too happy, too chirpy, too much for a guy who spent months rotting in prison. But how could he ever hate her when she cried in his chest like that?

Length: 5k (I'm feral for these two)

warnings: post prison reid. Angst. depiction of suicide from the Unsub. gory language used. guns mentioned. mention of $nuff video and other murders. Nothing that hasn't been done on CM already.

authors note: if y'all want to see more with these two just SAY because I am all ears I would die on this ship

There were a lot of times in his time at the BAU that Spencer had wished he could have changed the outcome of their bad guy, surprisingly enough. There was the time they found their UnSub a few minutes too late, and one of the victims fathers decided to take him out then and there with a shotgun to the head. He was just a kid. There was the entire time he was with Tobias Hankel, and he lived in a state of both fear and sympathy for the boy trapped in his own body after years of abuse. There was Nathan Harris, the kid who had stopped him at the subway station and practically begged him for help to stop his urges to murder, only to slit his own wrists before Spencer could get to him because he thought he was tainted. 

He could see how it was easy in their job to get wrapped up in saving the day, in saving everyone they could. He just had hoped, on some stupid grace of a god he didn’t even believe in, that she would have at least remained untouched by the bad luck. 

Spencer had always thought, since the first day he had arrived back into the office after his stint in prison, that she seemed to just waltz through life easier than anyone else. He knew the concept of luck was not quantifiable, that it was just a coincidence that good things happened to some people, and bad things happened to others. He always grouped himself in with the latter, because what was his entire life if not one bad hand of cards after another?

Part of him had been seething with vitriol jealousy when he first met her. He hated how the elevator doors seemed to open without hesitation for her, no waiting required. He hated how her hair never seemed to fall out of place, while his required primping and preening to upkeep. He hated how she was always so happy, whether it had been she’d been given an extra cookie at the bakery for free, or her coffee had just tasted super delicious that morning, or the road works clogging the city had been put on hold the one day she needed to drive into the office. She was one of those people, he had decided, that life just seemed to smile down upon, and she beamed back in that dazzling grin. 

He felt sick to his stomach for ever wishing it gone, especially when she looked like she might never smile again. 

They never liked to say that they had easy cases and hard ones, all of their cases were difficult to process. But this one had been a handful above the rest. 

“UnSub has been killed on site, all units stand down,” Luke said into the radio, and the entire squadron took a sigh of relief, all of them except him. 

Because he saw that look in her eye, the way everything sparkly about her seemed to have vanished.

They had been following Bobbie Wrids for a week. Five bodies in, five men shot between the eyes execution style, almost six by the time they’d arrived on the scene. 

She’d gone with Tara around the front of the abandoned building; Penelope tracked their newest victim, Henry Frond, through his phone pinging off the nearest satellite towers, and it had been straight forward from there. Or at least it should have been. 

Because by the time Spencer and Luke arrived in their own SUV, Penelope had time to access the rest of Henry’s phone, and it was clear to see the victimology behind all six men. 

They were distributing snuff videos of women, some between themselves, some to other usernames on the darkweb, and Bobbie Wrids’ daughter had been one of them.

Bobbie had become somewhat of a vigilante, but he was a grieving father above all. He was a wounded animal chomping at the bit to soothe the ripping pain of his daughter's murder, the same one those men were getting off to. 

Tara and her exchanged a glance as Penelope relayed the information over their headsets, her once serious expression falling into something sombre and sorrowful. How could she arrest a man she couldn’t help but feel sorry for, one she couldn’t help but think wasn’t entirely wrong in his actions. 

“Bobbie Wrids,” Tara’s voice was stern, cutting through the silence of the desolate building. Their footsteps were careful as they made their way through the hallway, down to what had once been a rec-room, or perhaps a staff room, where they knew Bobbie had Henry, “This is the FBI, we’d like to talk,” 

They heard nothing, and she looked up to the older woman hesitantly, her finger hovering over the trigger the way Spencer had taught her. Tara took a minute, knowing she was leading the charge here with the girl being so inexperienced, before she nodded to the door knob and the rookie twisted the handle, pushing the peeling wood open gently. 

Bobbie Wrids stood in the centre of the room, moth eaten couches either side of the damp rug, the ceiling tiles half caved in from wear and tear. Henry Frond was already a pulp in the UnSub’s arms, and yet it was Bobbie that her eyes shot to first, sympathy shooting through every fibre of her being when she saw the distraught look on the father’s face. 

He was grieving. He was grieving his little girl’s death. He was looking for a solution, and this seemed to be his best bet. 

“Bobbie,” Her voice was shaky, her and Tara frozen in the doorway as the man brought the pistol to Henry’s beaten face, cocking it towards his temple before they could even explain themselves. “We’re going to come in, is that okay? We just want to talk, just let us talk-”

They had only edged closer by three paces between them as she was speaking before his knuckles turned white and he squeezed the gun tighter to Henry’s skin, the barrel contorting the flesh, “Don’t come any closer, this pig isn’t worth your mercy,”

“We know,” She said, her and Tara slowly stepping over a fallen ceiling tile, cracking under her boot as she met his desolate gaze for the first time, his head snapping to her. “We know what he did, Bobbie. What they all did.”

His throat bobbed, his bottom lip quivering and the sight of it, a man so broken, forced a frog into her oesophagus, and she willed herself not to cry. 

“They hurt my little girl,” Bobbie choked out, his face turning mauve as the tears began to build behind his eyes, “She was my girl. She was only eighteen.” 

She nodded, his wetted hues seemingly permissive when she stepped closer to where he held Henry hostage. 

“I know, I’m so sorry for what happened to her,” She said, her voice croaky, unstable as she wrenched it into something audible, “I’m so sorry,” 

“He doesn’t deserve mercy, none of them did,” Bobbie spat, his forearm crushing against Henry’s trachea in a vice-like grip. The man floundered, a wheeze coming from his lungs, not that she felt much sympathy for him. 

She sprung into action, flicking her gun onto safety and holstering it, Tara doing the same as she lowered her weapon to her side. He profiled as a vigilante; he had no reason to hurt them. 

“Bobbie, listen, I know they didn’t deserve to walk free, okay?” She said, taking the smallest step towards where the men stood, “But she wouldn’t want this for you, would she?”

The man flinched, his jaw hard as a rock with how he clenched his teeth together, as if holding back a sob. 

“Come on, Bobbie. Let him go, we have enough evidence to get him sentenced. We can get you a plea deal, I know a good lawyer,” She begged, because she wasn’t beneath it, because she knew he was a good man backed into a corner, “Please,”

Maybe it was the way her eyes were soft when she looked at him, or the fact two more agents burst into the room from the hallway, Spencer’s eye immediately falling to where she was stood so close to their UnSub, her gun out of hand. Tara stood by, but that wasn’t good enough for him. He edged with light footsteps until he was behind her, his gaze cautious, never leaving the gun in Bobbie’s hand. 

“Please,” She repeated, and Spencer saw Bobbie’s shoulders drop, every sliver of resolve draining from his body at her gentle tone, a deer approaching a hunter. 

Henry was thrown to the floor, the man practically dead weight as he gasped, almost retching at the feeling of air sucking back into his chest frantically, and Luke and Tara were quick to wrestle him into cuffs, the woman reading him his Miranda rights. 

Spencer almost made a grab for her then, because she was still creeping forward towards the man who had a loaded gun still live in his hand. He didn’t care for one second that the statistics said Bobbie wouldn’t lay a hand on her since she wasn’t part of his list. He didn’t care that every sign pointed to their UnSub being benevolent towards women, especially younger ones, that she fit his daughter’s description. Spencer didn’t care, he wanted her as far away from that gun as possible. 

His heart lurched into his throat when Bobbie did in fact make a lunge for her, just not the way he’d feared. Because she had grabbed him. She’d pulled him into an embrace, a hug, kind and sweet as she always was. 

Spencer cursed her for being so soft. It was going to get her killed. 

“Agent,” His voice was terse, worried if you dug a little deeper than the sharp surface, but she didn’t listen to him. She held Bobbie tight as the man unravelled on her shoulder, falling into heart breaking sobs and it was then Spencer realised she was crying with him. 

“It’s going to be okay, you’re okay,” She was shushing him, the killer, reassuring him he was safe, as if the killing thing wasn’t still between his fingers that clutched at her back with rough hands. 

“They killed my girl, they took her from me, and then they laughed about it,” He wailed, and she nodded, squeezing him even tighter if that was so possible, “No one would listen, the police didn’t listen, I had to do something,”

“I know, I know, I’m so sorry,” This was wrong. She wasn’t supposed to be sympathising with the criminals. But she couldn’t help it, she couldn’t help the gasping urge to comfort the man who had lost his whole world, “I’m listening. Tell me about her,” 

“She was so beautiful,” Bobbie whimpered, sniffling into her shoulder. Spencer felt his chest twinge at the scene. He hated that she was so soft. “She never hurt a soul,”

She cried with him, though hers were choked down as much as she could get them, her wet cheeks the only proof she had ever let them slip. 

“I’m sorry,” She said again, because no matter how many times she repeated those two little words, it would never bring his daughter back, “I can help you,”

He pulled away from her shoulder, and it was only then that Bobbie Wrids even noticed Spencer, his face taut in anxiety as he watched the man’s hands still holding onto her body as if she was the only thing that kept him upright, which Spencer wouldn’t be surprised if it were true. 

He fished the cuffs out of his back pocket, his finger never leaving the trigger as he stared down at their UnSub cautiously. He knew he may be being cruel, knew that ten years ago he would be just as caring as her. But that Spencer was long gone. And what remained was screaming in terror that she was in the line of danger, that she was holding the danger in her bare hands like she didn’t see the jeopardy she was putting herself in. 

Bobbie pulled away to look at her, the creases around his eyes deep chasms, and even with the smattering of grey hair, the stubble, the cold, empty look of someone with nothing left, she thought he might have been a handsome man once. He looked at her with a ghost of a smile, and one of his callused hands came up to tuck her hair behind her ear as if it had been second nature to him for eighteen years. 

“You’re a sweet girl,” He murmured, and she blinked at him, her chest easing at the way his wails had subsided into something quiet. She could help him, she swore she would help him. He was a good man beneath it all. “But no one can help me anymore, sweet girl,”

And with that he lifted the pistol beneath his chin and pulled the trigger.

—

She heard someone scream before she realised it was coming from her own throat, but her ears were ringing and she couldn’t open her eyes. Her face was wet and hot, and for a second she thought it was tears, but she was beyond crying now. She felt arms pulling her back into a strong chest, and someone was murmuring to her, or perhaps they were speaking normally and the sound of the gunshot had knocked her hearing. Either way, it was like someone had pulled a bag over her head as she brought her shaking hands up to her eyes to wipe. 

She managed to crack her lids then when the sludge was gone, only to see the room still a blurry mess. She could make out, in the haze of blobs and crimson tint, Bobbie’s body slumped to the floor, a dark puddle seeping into the rug as those long arms tugged her out of the room. She only then looked down to her hands where she had rubbed her face and she caught the same claret plasma coating her fingers, her white shirt, her pants, her arms. It covered her head to toe. 

It was in her eyes, she realised when she saw the ichor coating her fingertips. It was blocking her vision, turning the world a vivid wine colour, and she thinks she whimpered, or perhaps it was a moan of horror seeing the puddle beneath Bobbie’s body growing larger by the second. 

“I don’t understand,” She said out loud, her head spinning, and she brought her fingertips up to her eyes again, maybe to get the blood out, god there was so much blood on her face, or maybe because she hoped to everything out there that she would clear her sight and find it all a terrible hallucination, the product of one too many nights of sleepless tossing. 

But when she rubbed her lids again, this time seeing the scene a little better, Bobbie was still dead. She had still been too late. 

“You’re in shock, you need to breathe,” A voice instructed her over her shoulder, and it was from the same person who had their hands around her waist, pulling her away from the crime scene, as CSI filed in from behind them. 

She tried pushing the arms off her, weak because she couldn’t feel anything that wasn’t the horror in her stomach, and it took her a second before she listened to their words and realised she was holding a breath in her chest, the way a toddler does when they’re overwhelmed. 

“I don’t-” She gasped, the air rushing through her lungs, so fast it made her cough, “I don’t understand, I was going to help him- I don’t understand- why?”

“I know, just breathe for me, sweetheart,” Spencer. She only just realised it was Spencer speaking, because he had never called her that and the gentle tone he’d taken was nothing like his usual, civil cadence. He had been dropping a few jokes the past few weeks since she’d driven him home, had been more touchy feely with correcting her form when she was at the shooting range, had delicately touched the small of her back when they were navigating a crowd together. He was slowly cracking from his statuesque expression that hadn’t left his face since he’d gotten out of prison, but the softness with which he held her waist was entirely new. 

“Spencer, I don’t- I don’t get it,” She said, her voice bubbling into a sob as she allowed herself to be pulled away with no fight left in her. He took her into the hallway, turning her body from the sight of his hand lifeless on the floor with little to no effort. She was damn near limp in his arms, “Spencer, I don’t under-understand, I was going to h-help him, why would h-he do that-”

“Shhh, you need to breathe,” He murmured into her hair, trying to lead her out the front of the building and far away from where she’d just been front row seats to a messy suicide, “Come on, just breathe for me, baby, and then we can talk,”

But she wasn’t listening, and he wasn’t offended. Spencer knew it was the shock. He knew the symptoms by how her respiratory system had picked up in a matter of seconds and it was like she had gone from zero to a hundred. She let out a long whine, tears collecting the blood on her lash line and her chest seized into action, gulping down air, too short to do anything for her lungs, and her legs began to buckle beneath the two of them. 

Spencer stopped in the hallway, realising she was in more shock than he must have thought. He knew she was sensitive, hell it was one of his favourite things about her. He knew she felt everything so deeply, burned too easily, like a daisy wilting in a dry heat, or candyfloss melting in his mouth. Spencer knew, as awful as watching death up close was for any agent, it would hit her hardest of all of them. 

He moved around to her front, his hands migrating from her waist up to her shoulders, brushing over her upper arms soothingly. But her body felt numb, her head felt heavy, and her eyes were glazed over, down a rabbit hole entirely away from him, even when one of his hands cupped her wetted cheek gently. 

“Just breathe, hey, look at me,” He tried a firmer tone, and she bent to his will too easily. It was a punch in the gut seeing everything shining and pretty leached out of her eyes, as if she had become soulless in a matter of minutes, as if she had lost all hope in the world the second Bobbie pulled that trigger. She looked like hell, blood still fresh on her cheeks, in her hair, smeared around her eye sockets where she had scrubbed so hard to get it off her skin, “You need to calm down, you’re going to faint if you don’t breathe,”

She nodded, or something close to it, her eyes falling down to the floor, and she seemed to wrestle for control over her chest then. But what came after was worse, Spencer thought. Her brows screwed together, her eyes welling up with more of those fat tears, and her lips dropping into a devastated pout, her eyes trailing over the mess on her uniform, on her hands. 

“Spencer, I don’t understand, I tried to help him, I wanted to help him,” She sobbed, sniffling to herself miserably, and he barely even thought about it when he pulled her into his chest, not caring that her skin would dirty his shirt. 

His hand wound into her hair, stroking her sweetly as she buried her wails into his vest. He used his other arm to pull her close to him, which she seemed to have zero qualms about as she clawed at his back to keep him close, as if she didn’t want to face what was going to happen when they left that building. 

Spencer regretted ever thinking her sunshine was too bright for him. 

–

She hadn’t smiled in a whole week. Well, that wasn’t entirely true. She had given Penny a very forced smile when she had fussed over the younger woman the first day she got back, had said thankyou with downcast eyes and a fragile grin when the blonde presented her with a framed picture of a puppy to keep on her desk ‘incase she needed something nice to think about,’

She hadn’t looked at it once, because they both knew it wouldn’t do anything, no matter how much she pretended for Penelope’s sake that she would put it to good use. 

He had taken her out for coffee on him that first day, but by the time they had got to the front of the queue, he had been doing almost all of the talking, which had become rare nowadays since he had come home from Mexico. Usually, it had been her filling the silences, because he knew in her right mind she hated the sound of static nothingness, she found it awkward and unnecessary when she could talk to anyone without thinking about it too hard. 

They had got to the desk, the barista smiling up at him as he ordered his usual, before he turned to look at her as the woman serving asked her what she would like. But she wasn’t listening, she was watching out the window, nothing particularly invigorating beside a bird cleaning its feathers on top of a stop sign. 

He said her name, putting his hand on her back and her head whipped around, her eyes empty as they looked up at him expectantly, “What do you want to drink?” 

She blinked, waking herself from a stupor, and looked at the barista with an embarrassed expression, “Hot chocolate, please,” 

And that was all she really had to say until lunch rolled around, and she excused herself to head home early. Emily smiled at her reassuringly, her eyes wary as she watched their happy-go-lucky rookie head for the elevators with a desolate look in her eyes. 

Spencer hoped she would come around on her own, or maybe even be brave enough to talk to someone about the thoughts rattling around that head of hers, but she just didn’t. She stayed as silent as possible, only ever speaking when spoken to, asking Emily if she could finish off her reports at home, to which the Prentiss woman never protested. 

But Spencer had had enough. He’d worried himself sick over her, and where all thoughts of how endearing and lovely and charming she was had sat in his head before, now it was all just ways he could think to make her smile again. 

It was the following Tuesday by the time he braved action. She had gone home after their midday briefing, apologising to Emily with tired eyes that seemed to be growing more and more heavy by the day, like she hadn’t slept a wink in a fortnight. Which Spencer thought was entirely possible. 

He pulled up to the house Penelope had not so discreetly told him was hers, definitely not because he’d asked, and definitely, definitely not breaching any human resource policies about distributing fellow workers information (meaning Spencer had almost certainly not begged Penelope for the address with those puppy eyes of his he knew could bag him anything). 

The peonies in the window bays were wilting but her house was something out of a fairytale. He wasn’t sure why he was really so surprised. It screamed her, everything about it, from the toadstool post box to the little green, cast iron bench that sat in the garden, the metal forged to look like florets of ivy holding the sitter upright. 

He rapped the brass knocker, the metal cold under his long fingers. Brushing invisible dirt off his shirt, he hoped she would answer as the present squirmed at his feet. 

“Just a second,” He hushed, and as if she heard him, the front door swung open to reveal her bare face he hadn’t seen since he’d helped her wipe the blood from her skin in the back of the ambulance. 

She looked at him with furrowed brows, before they quickly shot to the floor, to her cobbled pathway that had clicked under his shoes, and her face washed with a shock. 

“Oh my god, Spencer!” She crouched to her knees, a slobbery lick immediately meeting her cheek as the Spaniel rubbed his wet nose up to her ear, sniffing her unique smell, as if it was a bag of Class A’s, “I never knew you had a dog,” 

“I don’t,” He replied, kneeling with her to ruffle the soft fur behind the canine’s ear, “This is Ace. He retired from the Bomb Unit a month ago and Penelope sent me his handler’s number. They said he’s the happiest dog in the world,” 

 “I would be too if I stopped so many people from blowing up,” She said, but before he could ask what she meant exactly by that, Ace had jumped up and attacked her entire face with kisses as if he too thought that statement was worth silencing. 

And she laughed. She laughed louder than she had in days, weeks, her eyes crinkling in joy as the little pink tongue stole away her sorrow, tickled away the traces of the blood that had tainted her skin. 

Spencer smiled, his eyes watching her face scrunch in a squeal, hands eventually coming up to the elderly dog’s jowls to gently push him down. 

“Oh, you are the sweetest guy,” She said, and the words had him tugging at the leash to lick her all over again, “Yes you are, you’re the sweetest little guy around, huh?” 

She chuckled, scratching down the mutt’s neck, and her eyes flicked back up to Spencer, who watched her with more intent than she’d realised. 

“Petting and receiving affection from pets causes spikes in serotonin in our brain and reduces anxiety, did you know that?” Spencer said, Ace pushing his muzzle into the palm of her hand to prove a point. 

Her smile wavered slightly, and she looked at his hazel hues that seemed to see right through her, “Look, I’m sorry I’ve been so off lately, I just can’t sleep at the moment-”

 “Don’t apologise,” He cut in, though his tone was kind, and the two of them stood back up to their full height, “What happened was horrifying, even some of the longest serving agents I know would struggle seeing that,” 

She scoffed, unusually pessimistic coming out of her mouth, “You wouldn’t,”

His head tilted, not quite understanding what she meant, because she hadn’t sounded cruel when she said it. Then again, he didn’t think she was actually capable of that emotion. 

She looked at him, a flash of something vulnerable in her eyes, something like that day he’d held her in the hallway; too fast he almost missed it.

“You’re so brave, Spencer, you’re like invincible. I mean, you survived prison and your mom getting kidnapped and you bounced straight back to work like it was nothing. I can’t even watch a murderer die without spiralling out of control,” She huffed, rubbing the bridge of her nose and before he could respond on just how wrong she was, before he could tell her that that was exactly the opposite of what had happened because he had damn near changed every inch of himself in prison to stop himself from breaking, he caught her murmuring and he thought he might just have been punched all over again, “I wish I was like you,”

His jaw clenched, eyebrows furrowing into a frown as he stepped towards her, and her head shot to him, worried she may have said the wrong thing by mentioning everything that had happened, everything Pen had specifically said was a touchy subject, and she opened her mouth to apologise. 

“Do you know how unbelievably glad I am that you are nothing like me?” Spencer said, his voice bordering on furious and her fumbled for a reply, worried she had truly pissed him off. 

She wouldn’t blame him for hating her. She’d always worried, until perhaps that day they’d gotten into her car and she’d driven him home, that her very essence annoyed him. 

“I’m sorry-” She started, but he shook his head.

“Stop apologising,” He said, his hand reaching up to grab where her fingers tugged together nervously, his hold featherlike, his face softening when he saw her expression, “I don’t want you to be anything like me. I like you just how you are,” 

She sighed, eyes doe like with emotion as she looked at him, “Really?”

He smiled, a rare and genuine smile as she seemed to glow under his words, “Yes, really.” Spencer allowed himself to enjoy the way that the twinkle returned to her expression when he smiled at her with something almost like the old Spencer in him, before he cleared his throat, “We all like you. Everyone on the team likes how you are,”

She paused, nodding to herself as if knocking herself out of a silly daze, and Ace bounced on his hind legs trying to get her attention again. 

“You don’t think I’m too sensitive?” She asked, holding her palm out for the dog to nuzzle at with that wet nose of his. 

Spencer shook his head, “Sensitive is good. It means you feel something. Means you feel the good things deeper too,” 

Her smile was blinding, because she’d never thought of it that way before, and she looked like her old self again. Spencer wasn’t stupid enough to think she was never going to think about Bobbie again, he still thought about that first UnSub he’d tried to save. He still thought about Tobias Hankel. He thought about them all. 

But he was going to make sure she never turned into him. He didn’t think he’d ever forgive himself if she did. He’d protect her sunlight even if it burned him to know he could never have her the way he wanted. Because she was everything good, and he was him. 

She looked down at Ace, the life returning to her as she stood aside for the two of them to enter her house, “Tea?”

Yep. Spencer felt something run hot knowing she would always be out of reach. Didn’t stop him from thinking about it, though. 

[v3nusxsky]

Hello!! Saw your need of request and I have one!!

A Larissa X outcast reader where r is hired to the academy but they don’t have their ability written in their like resume(?) and Larissa is always curious as to what it is. One night they start getting to know each other over drinks when Larissa lets slip that she’s a shifter and r finally admits theyre one too but were scared because they’ve never met another one. Maybe share a kiss? Up to you

Not so dirty secret 18+

*Authors note~ Ah fluff I love me some fluff I hope you enjoy, it's so nice to be caught up and I love your ideas so much so thank you guys for your support. This was meant to be just fluff and somehow my brain turned it into some smut at the end. I take full responsibility for my mind running away with myself here*

Trigger warnings~ smut magic p 🫡 mommy kink smuttttttt

Prompt~ see ask^^^

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You weren't ashamed of your ability, no it wasn't that, it was the reactions you normally received that made you hold that piece of information very close to your chest. When you got told the job at Nevermore was yours, you couldn't quite believe your luck. And you hadn't had to revel your ability, the headmistress seeming to respect the fact you didn't want to share the information with strangers, truly you were glad you didn't get forced into telling her. Maybe that's what drew you to seek out her friendship.

Everyone on the staff was lovely, and the students all unquestionably unique and amazing in every way possible. You'd settled remarkably well, yet no one knew what you were. Plenty had asked, but none had pushed you when seeing how uncomfortable you became at the question. Your friendship with the headmistress was blossoming nicely, you often found yourself in her office with a glass of wine as you laughed at one of her anecdotes. You even shared some of your own, telling her of your childhood pet and how being an only child resulted in you having an imaginary friend. All found memories avoiding the mention of your shifting abilities.

You found yourself falling for the woman, I mean anyone would, she was a literal angel on earth, you couldn't fathom any reason why anyone would hurt someone so dang precious. You couldn't help but be scared, what if she didn't return your feelings? What if she ran when she found out you could shift? You didn't share your ability with her and Larissa didn't share hers with you so you both remained in the dark. But your feelings were getting stronger everyday you spent at the school so soon enough you decided it was time to bite the bullet.

You headed to her office that evening, hands trembling slightly at the thought of what you were going to do. So much so you forgot to shift back, you see sometimes you liked to shift your lower half, it made you feel comfortable and confident, you still loved your female anatomy but if you had the chance to have both wouldn't you? You entered and made your way to your usual seat as Larissa got the wine and added a few more logs to the fire. Mentally you were going over what to say, how to bring the conversation up and trying to convince yourself not to back out.

Thankfully, Larissa seemed oblivious to your nervousness as you both sat drinking your wine in a comfortable mix of silence and chatter. That was when you got brave, "Isa?" You mumbled effectively catching her attention, "can I tell you something?" She nodded while swallowing the wine, "of course darling what is it?" You took a shaky breath, "I'm a shifter" you whispered avoiding her eye contact not wanting to see disgust or disappointment lingering there. If you had looked all you would've seen is shock and relief. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you it's just people don't take to kindly to people like me."

"Oh my darling I'm very aware of that fact" she whispered shuffling close to you and giving a side ways hug, that's when she noticed. The touch had caused your extension of your body to grow and stand proudly to attention. Deciding to play coy with you, she murmured, "I'm a shape shifter too, I've not met anyone of our kind before but it makes sense with how stunning you are", the compliment making you blush. Then she did something you weren't expecting, she moved to straddle your lap.

"Is there anything else you want to tell me darling" she all but purred at you keeping your gaze with her own. "Mhm no?" You couldn't think, you had an extremely attractive woman in your lap and a raging problem between your legs. Larissa just responded by rolling her hips downwards to feel you against her core. Despite the clothing acting as barriers it felt sinfully delicious and all you could do was let out a gasp, "fuck Isa" you whimpered causing the older women to snatch your lips into a kiss. The kiss was sweet and slow but soon enough desire mixed with the very fancy red wine took over. Larissa began to actively roll her hips downward in a clear indication of what she wanted while your lips made quick work of marking up her neck. Nipping at her pulse point you decided to thrust your hips upward in an attempt to surprise the older women. Successful. She let out a needy whine before coming to mewl in your ear, "take mommy to bed darling. I want you to fuck me, hell I'll fuck myself on your cock just baby please mommy wants to cum."

You did just that replaying her words as you both made quick work of each others clothing. Who would've knew you'd have a mommy kink? And who would've thought your little secret wasn't so much of a dirty secret as you thought. You gave Larissa everything she wanted. You made her cum again  and again wrapped tightly around your cock, her walls milking you for every drop of cum you had. But you weren't done, you wanted to watch her bounce herself on you. So you quickly flipped yourself to lay beneath her hands on her hips as she hoovered over you. "I I can't no more please darling" she whined but you ignored it and helped her skink herself down on your dick, stilling as she let a cry of pleasure tumble from her lips. "Mommy make me cum" you demanded and couldn't help but laugh at her pathetic attempt to move on her own, "aw such a good slut you need help mommy shall I help you?" You teased as she nodded and begged for anything and everything. Did she want you to stop or carry on? She wasn't quite sure but the way your fingernails dug into her bare skin as you bounced her on your dick was truly something else. You both tumbled over the edge together as you filled her up with cum. Like a good girl she took everything and you reminded her of that before shifting back to your usual anatomy. Her first sight of your dripping cunt as you moved to clean her up. Once she was all cleaned up you made sure to offer her some water and a snack before gathering her in your arms and telling her how perfect she was. How much of a good girl she is for you, how proud you were of her. And only when she was on the brink of sleep did you murmur "I love you my darling Isa."

Word count~ 1307

[organatwins]

exploding you with my mind tell me EVERYHGIN about your padawan ocs i need to hold them very gently in my hands like theyre those bagged goldfish you get at the fair. i need them in my hands to hold and sob over because thyere so fcute im gonig to scream.

WAUGHH THANKIES TYSM THIS IS SO KIND!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! okay so first before i go into this you haveto know theyre originally from an outline for a dinluke visual novel gamei started coding and never finished. heheh. the story was originally just about din settling into life with luke and the students while training with the darksaber, but the players choices and how they had din interacting with luke andthe children deteremined the ending.

the padawan children in this au were:

Alluria- a young pantoran girl with bright eyes and a brighter smile, shes very happy with her life on yavin IV and loves studying the force with her fellow padawans, though tends to be alittle air headed and unfocused in her excitment. she wants to be everyones friend! has trouble actually,,, making friends,,, comes off kind of too strong and too much and scares away the other students who are much more reserved than she is

Reina - the youngest baby my darling reina...a young rodian girl who was seperated from her family during imperial rule- and has entrusted masterskywalker with the very important mission of helping her find them (her brother has passed without her knowing, they were extremely close- her mother holds vigil for reina every night and prays for her safe return) and believes whole heartedlysomeday they will. she was extremely shy and soft spoken when she first came to lukes academy- but has since warmed up enough that her very caring and empathetic nature is begining to shine through,, luke thinks she will be a healer

Lylah - a sleepy (almost narcoleptic) twilek girl who has visionsof the future when she dreams- when the force decides shes ready fora vision, she is already fast asleep. luke has seemingly endless patience for her, as he cant imagine having the burden of the future onhisshoulders at such a young age. Lylah is very reserved . quiet and to herself, but not in an aloof way. i think she just knows she wont be awake very long and tries to conserve energy.

Ryo - the oldest and most troubled of all my girlies... came from a very rough home life where her use of the force was punished from a very early age, despite her not being able to control it. using the force scares her, soshe rarely joins the other padawans during training. stays back and tries not to make friends really, becus she feels like this only temporary . and hey, maybe shes right, yknow? lylah has been having visions of a dark force watching them... maybe ryo should be tho one to go investigate,, she doesnt think anyone would even notice she was gone..... the bare bones plot to this vn (since i will probably never go back to it): Din is visiting Grogu at the Jedi Praxeum for the first time; he has met up with Luke on outer rim planets quite a few times but he is the first parent to be allowed to know the location of the actual school. He does not take this lightly. He is introduced to a small handful of other students, as well as invited to stay as long as he likes and observe any of Grogus classes. He does not take this lightly either. Din sits in on as many classes as he can, both enthralled by luke and the desperately need to be as close to grogu as possible. Theres DEFINITELY a scene early on where din walks in on luke training by himself in the dagobah tank-esque look like a little sweaty,,, its a dating sim, fucking sue me. Anyways. Din starts noticing more and more about luke, starts falling in love, you KNOW, the usual, but conflict wise he also notices one of lukes older students seems very troubled… Din points this out to Luke, who has very much noticed and is worried about this students pull to the dark side. He asks Din to talk with the student, give them an outside perspective from quote “a good mans point of view.” Din is hesitant, but agrees for both Luke and his students sake. The student is further gone than Luke had thought, and lashes out at Din, then runs away. Luke is very worried, but also wants this student to have the time they need to let out their emotions on their own… he's just scared of crossing the line either way and not giving them enough or too much time… defos DEFOS a scene where luke cries about how practically raising these kids by himself is so scary and he doesnt know if he's cut out for it, while Din assures him that ofc he is and that he isnt alone. He gives Luke a keldabe kiss, assuming he doesnt know what it means (he does) and assures him that he will never be alone if he doesnt want to be… later, Luke asks Din to come with him; as he has sensed the student off planet and where Luke suspects a sith artifact to be. They battle the student turned sith; and their sith inquisitor “master”...  possible endings ensue.

[nothinginthisworldbelongstome]

hii mommy!

just found your bling and i love it, so i decided to choose some question for you🤭

12

15

23

i hope you’re having a good day mommy

aw hi baby! ur such a cutie thank u for the ask!

12. do you have an ideal ‘type’? what would they be like?

mmm i dont have a super defined 'type'? i like dark hair, but blondes or redheads are just as beautiful. fore me its more in the face, eyes, and smile, as far as physical attractiveness. usuallyyyy i prefer feminine girls, but its not about style for me. im attracted to more 'feminine' features and attitudes most of the time. so i have preferences, but honestly a pretty girl is a pretty girl!

personality-wise, i love someone with a talent and a passion. artistic ability, musical talent, etc, is sooooo attractive. gosh i love musicians lmaoo!

id like someone who loves to read, and who would discuss abstract philisophical ideas with me, and also who can be silly and not serious all the time.

but fr i could fall in love with anyone probably i have the biggest heart (to my chagrin sometimes lol)

15. what’s the best thing about liking girls?

literally everything??? i just love women so much. theyre so pretty and soft and intelligent and amazing. im so gay lmaoooo

23. do you wear makeup?

only on special occasions! i dont like how it feels on my face, and im not especially talented, so usually i never wear it. i do love eye makeup when i wear it, i love fun eyeshadow and everything!

thank u so much for the ask sweetheart! if u wanna stick around, grab an emoji and tell me ur age, pronouns, and limits please! thanks darling <33

[vaguely-yandere]

reading your (amazing) writings got me thinking about like, a fuckboy/playboy(? im sorry idk the gn word for this? slut maybe lmao?) yandere who’s rich, doesn’t even need to study, always gets to any party where they can get some action. they never had a romantic relationship before bc they thought it was just stupid and unnecessary foreplay. basically everyone is either horny for them or hate them.

so imagine their surprise when they see their (future) darling staring at them while they were talking to their friends. yan thinks they’re cute enough and talks to them, starts flirting their darling up and when they ask what darling finds attractive about them they start listing things like “your smile, its really pretty” or “you’re so smart, and you’re fun to be around” instead of something about how their body looks sexy or some shit they always get instead.

this leads to confusion, because someone never acted like this for yan before. how were they supposed to react? that moment was when their heart truly skipped a beat because of someones words, their darlings words felt so warm and genuine it made them shiver.

id also like to think theyd have a huuuuugeeee ego, also really possessive. but once they get close to their darling or just see them they turn into a golden retriever type, ready to do anything and everything, kill anyone and everyone for you.

sorry if its not comprehensive its 3 am, i dont have my glasses on and im just really excited after reading ur writings 🧍‍♂️

broski. i love this.

just an absolute player (i think???) of a yandere and uber rich (LOVE yanderes with money) and a massive slut

one night stands every night, always getting their ego stroked, always sexualizing themselves and others and then they meet... you <3 you compliment their smile, their laugh, the things they say, everything and it makes them completely fall for you and when you refuse to have sex with them because theyre obviously drunk and well, you're an ethical person, that just makes them want you more.

finding you is easy, throw enough money at a problem and itll solve itself. and being a rich socialite is hard and they completely lack in the 'social' part so they just.. show up. work, school, where ever and follow you around, questioning you and if anyone makes you do something, the brattiness comes out.

"y/n! you were suppose to finish this ages ago! would you please stop talking to your friend and get to work on this? c'mon! we can't keep letting you slack off!"

"ah, sorr-"

"no, no, who is this? who are you? you know what, i dont care, you are no longer important to me, leave." they make a shooing motion, turning back to you with a smile. "you wanna go shopping? have lunch? travel? anything you want, its on m-"

"hey! you cant just ignore me! im gonna have to ask you to le-"

the yandere turns around, standing at their full height to properly glare at your boss/teacher. "cut me off again and i will cut out your tongue." they snap their fingers, summoning the person thats always following them around. "escort whoever the fuck this is out, im talking to someone and theyre being a bitch."

as the curses and yells of your boss/teacher rapidly fade, the yandere turns back to you, grinning. "so! did you decide yet?"

ohhh, i hope you love getting spoiled because this socialite will do it constantly. food, jewelry, perfume, clothes, companies, electronics, anything you want? its yours as long as you keep giggling when they say stupid shit.

and just imagine how cute they look when they see you! beaming, glowing with love, desperately trying to impress you all of the time, just so so cute! and if you praise them, i can already see them struggling to hide their moans of pleasure and spend the rest of the day on cloud nine

if you work, theyll get you fired so you can spend all your time with them. if you go to school, theyll get enrolled to or enroll you in online classes and you will rarely spend a moment without them at your side, willing to do absolutely anything for you.

now, i dont think this yandere would be possessive like others! they demand others to praise you, to compliment you, acknowledge you constantly and appreciate your beauty but one wrong comment and theyre tied up in a guest house, being hunted like a drugged up tiger. they post pictures of you near constantly, showing off how amazing you are, forcing everyone to basically bow to your feet and yeah, they get a bit culty with it sometimes but hey! it could be worse!

[jiminiesfavouritecolourisblue]

Our little love - mafia/soft Yandere au OT7 Drabble

So I might’ve started this with a little angst and really soft hints of yandere behaviour however I think I might do a part two for this with a little bit more yandere and jealousy vibes (I got ideas okay, just needed a starting point)

“Tell me why I shouldn’t put a bullet in your head little love?” Even with the gun pressed firmly against your head, the cold of the barrel threatening to do as he said, you know Yoongi won’t do it, even if you deserved it.

All seven of them stand around you, no matter which way you face you’re met with the disappointment and the consequence of your betrayal in their eyes, but you refuse to look down in shame, you deserved to feel the guilt that pumped in your veins.

“He asked you a question Y/n,” Jin doesn’t have the smile he reserves for you on his face, all their demenor’s are cold, and you are the reason why.

“You love me,” you whisper, looking Yoongi dead in the face with no fear.

“I thought you loved us too,” Namjoon steps forward, breaking the circle around you, coming close to stand next to Yoongi. He has his hands in the pockets of his black blazer, silver hair pushed back.

“Was it all a lie?” if a voice could break you it would always be Jungkook’s, he was the one it took the longest to become close to, and when you had you could see the softness in his eyes despite his career. Of course he would sound the most hurt, he trusted you the most.

Yoongi, with his unfaltering gun, was the other member of their team that took you almost as long as Jungkook to get close to. While Jungkook was just shy, Yoongi didn’t trust anyone, he pushed people away, hurt them to keep them far, you learnt that the hard way. While his eyes looked like they held no emotion in this moment, you knew better, he had shown you his soul, you could see behind the barrier of his expression.

You took his wrist into your hand and pressed the gun harder against you.

“You should shoot me,” it would be better to be dead than live without them, they would never forgive you for what you’d done. The betrayal cut too deep, these wounds wouldn’t heal.

Yoongi scoffs, but you don’t let his wrist go.

“I told you all she shouldn’t be trusted,” he says to the others. “Why would a girl like her fall for men like us?”

You can feel the pain in his words, because above all else, no matter what he says, Yoongi just wants to be loved. They all do, that’s why it was almost too easy.

“Well now we know, don’t we babe?”

“That wasn’t my intention,” you swallow the sob that threatens to rise in your throat, you hate seeing him like this, you hate that you’re the reason why they’re hurt. Every time they came home with a bullet, or a cut or wound, it would kill you inside and you realised then you were compromised.

“No your intention was to infiltrate our defenses and rat us out,” Jimin’s the one to chime in, standing next to Tae who looks at you like you’re dead to him.

“Detective L/n, did you really think we’d never find out?”

You look to your side to make sure Jimin could see the honesty in your eyes.

“It wasn’t my intention to fall for you,” you sound like you’re choking with the way you’re holding back tears, but you don’t want to cry in front of them, it would feel like giving up.

You were assigned to go undercover to infiltrate the uprising gang called BTS, they climbed the heirarchy of organised crime too quickly, too dangerously, something had to be done. You went in with every intention set to take them down until you got to know them, love them, and you knew then you couldn’t do your job. The internal battle to do what was right but felt wrong and what was wrong but felt so right was causing all your morals to be questioned.

Tae scoffs at you now, not believing a word from your mouth.

“I don’t think we should kill her Hyung,” he says to Yoongi, “she needs to feel her betrayal, it would be too easy to escape us with death.”

Namjoon hums in agreement. The cold of the gun leaves your skin and you almost feel unsteady without it. Yoongi doesn’t look at you anymore now that it’s not there, instead he takes your wrist as you previously had, and they walk you to the car. You don’t fight, or talk, or argue, or ask what they wanted to do to you.

The boys had trusted you infinitely, while others had agendas and seeked their downfall they knew you were the only one that wouldn’t betray them, how wrong they were. For your safety they kept an eye on you, when you went out one of them would follow to ensure their little love didnt get into trouble or worse, get hurt. Imagine their surprise when you walked into the police station.

You didn’t tell them you went in to hand in your notice, unable to continue with this lie, it didn’t matter, the damage was done, anything you said would be meaningless.

Your sat inbetween Jungkook and Hoseok, who still hadn’t uttered a word to you, but you could see him restraining his hurt and anger. Jin was in the drivers seat with Yoongi beside him. The others must’ve taken the other car, you don’t really acknowledge it you’re too deep in your own thoughts.

You don’t come up for air until you feel a hand soft on yours in your lap, Jungkook doesn’t look at you, just at how he’s stroking the back of your hand with his thumb comfortingly. You don’t mean for your heart to swell in your chest, pushing the tears up and out.

Jin and Yoongi don’t miss the way your bottom lip trembles in the rear view mirror, the small sniffles or the tears glistening down your face that you wipe away quickly with your other hand. Hobi puts his arm around you, still looking out the window as if you’re not there, but his actions show what they all know in their hearts; they still loved you.

“Why are you crying baby girl you’re not the one with the knife in your back,” Hobi mumbles. They think you’re scared of what they’re going to do with you now they know, but that couldn’t be further from your mind. They want to reassure you, but the words are stuck in their throats.

“You need to be punished darling, otherwise you won’t learn,” Jin can see you nodding to his words in the mirror in acceptance.

“I know.”

——————————————————————————

You expected them to put you in the cellar where they tortured their enemies, you don’t even realise you’re in the living room until you’re placed on the couch. You don’t look up until Namjoon is standing in front of you.

He traces his finger from the edge of your jaw to your chin, your eyes big on him from his soft touch. The calm should scare you, but the only anxiety you have is over whether you should hope for another chance or whether they’ll throw you onto the street when they’re done.

When a tear hits Namjoon’s hands he frowns, they didn’t expect this from you when they confronted you with what they uncovered. They expected you to reveal another face, the true colours beneath the girl they all fell hard for, kick and scream and throw insults their way over the life they had, how awful they were, how they didn’t deserve to be loved. But you kept quiet, eerily quiet, and they didn’t know what to think anymore.

Letting you leave was out of the question, whether you wanted to stay or not. Not because they were concerned that you had seen too much, they didn’t care, they couldn’t imagine their lives without you anymore. The trust might’ve faded, but their love for you was real. Yoongi might’ve created a farce with the gun to your head but it was done to see your reaction, the truth behind the last 6 months of your relationship.

They expected you to beg for your life like every other person at their mercy, but you always defied their expectations.

“You’re so quiet my love,” Namjoon says to you. “Nothing you want to say to defend yourself?”

You shake your head, no there was nothing you want to say or explain.

“Then you take your punishment without complaint?”

You nod without hesitation.

Namjoon releases a deep breath, building the nerve to do what they knew would reveal whether your feelings for then were real or a lie you fabricated for your job. But he wasn’t one to easily be vulnerable, especially not after the blow that they faced today.

Jimin can sense it, the words on their leader’s lip, and he decides to take over. Namjoon steps aside as Jimin kneels on the floor in front of you. He takes your hands that are fidgeting on your lap and place them by your side on the seat, resting the weight of his head there instead.

He hugs your lap with so much love you can’t mistake it for an illusion, he rubs his head into you as much as he can.

“Stay with us,” if his actions weren’t a shock to your system enough, his words pushed you over the edge. You look into each of their eyes and the vulnerability you had learned to recognise was there begging you to want to stay.

“But I...” you don’t know what you want to say, the beating of your own heart was overwhelming in your chest. “I- I hurt you all so much.”

Yoongi hums in agreement, stepping forward to stroke your hair back, the hurt was still there they couldn’t lie to you, but losing you would be worse.

“Do you love us?” Jungkook asks taking a seat beside you, Taehyung sits by your other side. Jimin rubs little circles into your thigh while they wait for your answer.

“So much,” you confess. “I couldn’t do it, I- I”

Your words break off in a sob, as Tae takes your hand in his and presses a kiss to the back of it, a weight lifted off his chest. Jungkook pulls you into him, arms wraps around you as you let out your cries and the man in your lap places little kisses on the expanse of your thighs. You feel overwhelmed with the love theyre displaying when you were expecting their hate.

“But I dont understand,” you cry, “why aren’t you all angry, why aren’t you yelling at me?”

“We love you too,” Jin smiles the way he only reserves for you, and you feel thankful for it.

“It doesn’t matter how you got to us dove,” Hobi comes to kneel beside Jimin, wanting to be close to you too. “If it weren’t for your job you wouldn’t have met us.”

“I don’t know about that Hobi,” Namjoon chuckles. “You were meant for us my love, we would have found you one way or another.”

“We forgive you,” Jungkook kisses your hair. “Just don’t leave us.”

“We wouldn’t let you go even if you tried,” Tae voice rumbles in, leaning his face against your neck while the youngest holds you, still latched to your hand.

“You’re ours,” Jimin’s muffled voice comes from your lap, he’s pressed his face into you.

They would never let you go, and you don’t want them to. You thought all they wanted was love, but now you think you’ve reflected your own desire into them, they just wanted you.

[mbti-enemies]

INTJ HAVING A SECRET SLOW BURN CRUSH ON ENTP AND ENTP FULLY KNOWING ABOUT IT DECIDES TO BE TWICE THE PAIN IN THE ASS THEY ALREADY ARE, ALL IN ORDER TO AGGRAVATE INTJ TO CONFESS

GIVE ME ALL THE ENTP X INTJ GOODIES PLS

*laughs a lil* ohmygod this would be intjs idea of hell. literal h e l l (and entps idea of heaven ) - okay lets be real entp would totally do those annoying things like- *intentionally lowering their voice to talk to intj* , doing that oh so terrible *flits eyes from eyes to mouth back to eyes again* thing, *biting their lip in a nonchalant way (as i f they dont know what they're doing), doing that *intense eye contact* that intj tries to ignore but j ends up getting all flustered and angry BeCaUsE they've got all flustered and 'oh entp j said i look cute when they're mad - wait no thats bad how dare he call me cute ..but tbh he's kinda cute himself WAIT NO INTJ GET IT TOGETHER' (oh btw entps never gonna admit it (cause the last time he did intj threw a stapler at them) but they kinda love it when intj gets mad- this doesnt help intjs situation at a l l ) - entp keeps getting all into intjs face while intjs trying to work so intj suddenly loses it completely and just bursts "GODDAMN IT DAMN YOU I HATE YOU AND YOUR DUMB VOICE AND YOUR STUPIDLY GOOD LOOKING FACE" *cue entp being all shocked for one sec , before yelling HA I WIN and intj just there banging their head on the table* - entp running past intj while yelling 'HEY EVERYONE GUESS WHO HAS A CRUSH ON ME' *cue intj chasing after them and yelling random words even louder* - entp won't ever use this knowledge as blackmail but def wouldn't hesitate to use it just to torment intj "hey intj can you pass me the remote" "its a metre away - get it yourself" "okay but as im your crush yo"--- "ShUt Up hErE tAkE it" INTJ :*ranting to esfj* i rlly hate them , theyre so annoying like why would anyone acc want to spend time with them or e v e n talk to them ESFJ : *nodding along sarcastically* mmhmm yh even i spend half my time talking and obsessing over someone who annoys me yep - ENTP constantly bombarding intj with flirty punchlines and catchphrases and intj j contemplating murder (while also dealing with those butterflies in their stomach) and telling entp to flip off and suddenly entp laughs and throws an arm around intj and intj shuts up and tenses as words catch in their throat and they forget how to breath --------------------------

'i hate you so much' mutters intj under her breath, entp shakes his head and smiles. "We both know you don't rlly mean that darling - we both know you love me" - and all intj wishes to do at that moment is to laugh in his face and prove him wrong.. show that he hasn't figured her out at all and that he isn't the one who knows her the best -- prove all these things just so she can finally wipe that smug look of his face. but she doesn't...she can't...cause deep down she knows he's right , she knows theres smth that ignites within her ever time he's around, maybe it was the way he looked at her , the way he made her blood burn (perhaps to love is to burn). He was something that caused the world around her to blur and fade, someone who she wouldn't mind being with when she just wanted to be left alone. It was like a dragon unfurling within her, threatening to overtake her rationality and consume her thoughts with this unknown feeling. and intj knew she wouldn't let this happen , she c o u l d n t , she had to fight it down, for life was a game and love just another part of it (or at least thats what she tried to convince herself with) - and she'd rather die that lose to him she thinks, glaring at entp.. (whose still smiling that stupidstupid smile that she loves- no wait hates so much)

entp catching sight of intj in a conversation with someone and its *devil mode activated* as they saunter up to intj , saying nothing but grinning as intj narrows their eyes ever so slightly at them while still talking ..so entp just stands there, right t h e r e. mere centimeters away from intj - so intj can feel the heat radiating off them and can feel t h e m and their gaze and its getting progressively harder and harder to concentrate as words seem to fly away cause for some weird reason they cant seem to stop messing up their sentences whenever entp is around .

[ entp taking advantage of this fact whenever they're in an argument with intj or when they do that face off and just stand there glaring daggers at each other so now entp j comes near and dares intj to look away *cue intj being torn between looking away and dying cause they lost or stand their ground and dying cause flip its entp (so they settle for just kneeing entp in the rib)

entp finding lame excuses to casually establish some physical contact with intj - like reading from behind intjs back and coming unnecessarily close so intj can see their face from the corner of their eye and cant help but stare a lil..noticing things (its all for the nature of curiousity ofc)- noticing how his eyes looked like a kaleidoscope of colours (she cant help but want to dive right in and see what colour she would find herself in), they were eyes that told stories ..pages of dangerous beginnings and the promise of adventure , and oh his mouth is right there next to hers (she wonders what he would taste like ..perhaps a mix of honey and melancholy , cherries and pomegranates, the sea and soft sunshine, dreams and passion ,stars dipped in silver ink writing her name in the sky ,blood pacts and whispered promises). She wonders what it would feel like to kiss him - (like meeting a thunderstorms and being left breathless- lighting fill the sky and her veins , like dancing with shadows in a waltz of eons, like being thrust from the world of the living into a world of l i f e ...and life may be suffering but it's magical and spectacular and its worth it cause you're alive. Thats what it would feel like she decides..it would feel like life .. *cue intj realising she's spent five minutes j staring at entp and entps j there like *raises eyebrow and knowing look*

(he was winter - with the biting sharpness of his tongue and the way he would melt a little if you waited long enough..like snow. he was summer - with the burning heat of his gaze and brightness of the eyes , spring- with warmth in his touch and his familiar scent of rain and moss and blackberries on the hedgerow, and fall ....cause thats what she was doing right now - falling (but flying))

[pompadourpink]

Hi mum! Im sorry this is gonna be a long ask, i dont have anyone to tell this. So im will start my senior year in high school next month. And at the end of the year i will take an exam to enter univerisities, which is held only once a year. I have to decide my orientation this week, its either stem+ med and other stuff like this, or law psychology is on another choice. We have 4 options. I am going to go crazy. I have been trying to pick one for a year and couldnt. Now i have only one week. Ive tried everything, we talked with my parents so many times. But still nothing. And my psychology is not really good now because of this, so i dont want to make the most important decision of my life in a headspace like this. Im just so scared. I have panic attacks during the night. I didnt tell my family about this, theyre already worried enough. So i am a "gifted kid" but its not a gift, it is a curse. I have pressure on me, everyone expects me to be successful. And im scared of wasting my potential. What am i going to do? Please show me a way out. I literally cant sleep at night

Hello darling,

You didn't give me all the options or talked about your own preferences so it would be hard to rationally guide your decision.

1/ Don't pick a degree or a job title, pick a career.

Most people specialise in one subject and become references in their field because they work on it until they become excellent. Mine is obviously French (language, literature, culture, history, etc.), and it's always been the case: I started reading when I was three, was known as the school's book worm and claimed I wanted to become a French teacher when I was 8. Fast-forward twenty years: ta-ta!

It is reasonable to think that you already have the answer. That there is in your life that one thing that makes you happy, that never feels like a burden, that you can do/ramble about for hours. If not, you need to explore the world until you find it. It's there, somewhere, waiting to be discovered. No one is devoid of fire.

2/ Don't expect a smooth ride.

It is highly unlikely that you will get your dream job immediately and stay there for the rest of your life (you wouldn't be hired without experience, they might not be hiring at all in your area, your goals might change and you could decide to move, etc.). What will probably happen is that you'll get a job, and another, and another, and then you'll have the experience needed to apply to your dream job and hopefully you will get it. And even then things might happen or you could have a change of heart.

3/ Nothing is definitive.

You always have a choice. You can always change your mind, drop out, start again, do something completely different, take a month off to think, go back to university when you're thirty, start a business, move continents, etc. Whatever decision you will take this week doesn't trace the one path you will have to walk on for the rest of your life. Think of life as a tree, not a straight line.

4/ You're in charge.

Not your parents. I have been that gifted child crushed under pressure and it didn't do any good. You don't even have to go to university. You could become a video editor, a hairdresser, or a cook. You are the one living in this brain and this body for the rest of your life, no one else, so what others think doesn't matter.

Now, my advice.

Get in touch with a teacher you like and see if you can have more time, or if there's a possibility you can change your mind later this year and possibly pick another field. I can guarantee every year there are very chill students who forget the deadline and wake up too late, yet are still be able to enrol in college. There has to be room for the unexpected and teachers know that more than anyone else.

If you're absolutely certain you want to go to uni, write down your four options and their professional prospects in one column, the things you like in a second one, and your job expectations in a third one. Do you want to work alone, in a team, in an office, outside, travel a lot, be an employee or a boss, etc. Think long-term. You will start working in a few years and won't stop for fourty years. Passion is the best tool you can have to make that time look like a smooth ride.

If you want to discuss it with me in person, dead serious, DM me your Skype @ and we can talk today or tomorrow and find a solution together. I let anxiety destroy my life for a long time and I would hate to see you make the same mistake.

Love,

Mum

[ofkillian]

( hwang in yeop. agender. they/them. heart of gold & griff. ) supposedly KILLIAN SONG is actually a FAE, but i doubt it. they look like they’re TWENTY-NINE, though they act like they’ve been on earth for SIXTY-THREE years. i recently saw them at SIREN — i think they’re a MANAGER there. when dusk falls, you can usually find them heading home to STATEN ISLAND by BUS.

hii everyone! im raven (24, she/they) from the gmt+2 timezone. i havent rped in a hot minute im gonna be honest but im soo excited for this and i cant wait for the opening!! i wrote a little bit about my darling killian here along with a few stats, if you want to plot just hmu here or on dscord (rvn #4311) or like this and i’ll come to u !!

basics:

name: killian song

physical age: 29

real age: 63

species: fae

affiliation: unseelie court (estranged)

gender: agender

pronouns: they/them

sexuality: pansexual 

more stats here!

backstory:

killian was born 63 years ago in the unseelie court. they were always a bit abnormal in the fae world. unseelie are darker and more open to mischief compared to their seelie counterpart, yet, killian simply didn’t care. they never did. sure they might be a little more prone to sarcasm and misconduct than your regular fae but they never felt like they truly belonged to their court, or the supernatural world as a whole really

they don’t really know who their parents were, they were simply born into the court and that was their family for the first twenty or so years of their life

killian is still a young fae, most of their family still live within the court but as they grew up the lack of something made itself stronger and stronger until they were torn by the need to get out there and start a new life

so they did, they left it all behind, no bad blood, but their family didn’t take the news well and refused to accept it. they’re still waiting for killian to come back and killian knows they would welcome them back with open arms but they’re content with their life at the moment and feel no need to go back 

killian is young and having lived away from their community ever since they were even younger they lack the knowledge that older faeries have, such as concealing their appearance. because of that and despite knowing bits of the history of their species, they decided to make a pact with a witch, a small amount of their blood in exchange for a spell that would hide their fae appearance (they have completely black eyes and small antlers) from the humans they inevitably meet every day

personality wise killian is quite introverted and lacks social skills, that combined with their sarcasm leads to people thinking killian is mean even though they really aren’t

killian is actually really sweet and always thinks about others, the type to gift you things just because they saw it and thought about you

being a typical fae killian loves loves nature, so much that their house is so full of plants there’s almost not enough space for them to live in it

killian is totally a cat person, despite loving all animals they think cats fit their personality best, so they adopted two, leaf and blossom

they work as a manager at siren, mostly behind the scenes jobs but some nights they hang around the club to make sure everything's alright

wanted connections:

the witch that killian has made a pact with !!

the first person killian met when they left their court and ventured into the human world, could be a human that saw their true form and then found out about supernatural beings or another supernatural being that helped them (or not oho)

killian is completely clueless when it comes to flirting and romantic stuff (literally the type to ask their s/o if theyre dating after being in a relationship for 10 years) so maybe someone that hits on them and is fond of that side of killian (could be someone that hangs out at siren or anyone really!!)

maybe a roommate ?? someone who complains about the amount of plants or something, give me something fun !!

anything else, let's brainstorm !!

[stereostevie]

A brutal childhood, a traumatic marriage, decades of racism: the singer has overcome it all on her way to the top. She lets rip about the people who have wronged her and the self-belief that sustains her.

It is a rainy Thursday afternoon and Mariah Carey is talking to me from her home in Los Angeles, her voice coming through my laptop. Is this the real life or is this just fantasy? (Sweet, sweet fantasy …) “Hello, good morning, good afternoon, this is a little unusual,” says a gravelly voiced Carey. You’re telling me, Mariah.

We are talking by video chat, but – as specified by Carey – without the video turned on, so it is pure chat. Despite her ability to hit the high notes, Carey has always described herself as an alto. Yet even taking that into account, her voice today sounds pretty husky. Is she feeling OK?

“It’s 6am here, and I’m awake in the bright light and it’s fabulous and I love it,” she says and makes an exaggerated groan.

I’m sorry you had to get up so early for this interview, I say.

“Well, darling, then let’s not book interviews at 6am if you’re worried! But please, it’s not you,” she says, and indeed it isn’t. The time and date of our interview have moved around so many times to accommodate Carey’s ever-shifting schedule that, for a while, it looked as if it wouldn’t happen at all. But at the last minute, it was decided we would talk at 6am her time, which I was promised would be fine because Carey is a self-described “nocturnal person”, so that would be 6pm for her. Alas, for reasons too complicated to get into, for one night only, Carey was a non-nocturnal person, so now 6am is just 6am.

“Typically I would have been working [all night] until now, but we had a situation and I couldn’t. Then I tried to get some sleep, but actually I watched the interview I did with Oprah. But it’s OK, it was just one night [of no sleep] and here I am,” she says. You don’t become one of the most successful singer-songwriters of all time – she has sold more than 200m records, and only the Beatles have had more US No 1 songs – without being a trouper.

Carey, 50, has spent lockdown with her nine-year-old twins, Monroe, named for Carey’s hero, Marilyn Monroe, and Moroccan, named partly for one of her favourite rooms in one of her houses, the Moroccan room, “where so many creative and magical moments have happened, including Nick presenting me with my candy bling”. Nick is Nick Cannon, the twins’ father, and “candy bling” is Carey’s term for her engagement ring, which Cannon hid inside a sweet before proposing. Carey liked Cannon’s proposal so much that she even wrote a song about it, called Candy Bling. The marriage proved less enduring and the couple divorced in 2016.

“Honestly, I don’t miss anyone outside, so I don’t care about lockdown,” she says with a throaty laugh. “But it’s difficult for the kids, because they’re used to three-times-a-year Disney World moments and stuff like that, and that’s just not the current state of affairs.” It is not. So Carey is conducting the promotional tour for her memoir, The Meaning of Mariah Carey, from her kitchen table, and if she has her way – and who would dare to argue? – this will be the last round of interviews she ever does.

“No offence to doing interviews, but what would be the point? I can’t articulate it better than I already have [in the book]. From now on, I’m like, ‘Please refer to page 29,’ you know what I mean?” she says. Carey’s deliciously shady put-downs are legend: her “I don’t know her”, when asked almost two decades ago about Jennifer Lopez is still the internet’s most beloved diss. Speaking of Lopez, her name is notably not in Carey’s memoir. Instead, when recalling the hoo-hah that led to their fallout, when a sample Carey had planned to use on her single, Loverboy, appeared on Lopez’s I’m Real, Carey refers to her as a “female entertainer (whom I don’t know).” So is her official position still that she has never heard of Lopez?

There is a pause, then stifled laughter. “Oh my gosh, can you hear that music in the background? It’s Sam Cooke! It’s fantastic!” she giggles.

Not only has Carey not heard of Lopez, she cannot even hear questions about her, it seems.

Carey’s memoir is about a lot more than score-settling (although she makes time for that, too.) “I don’t think anyone could have known where I was coming from, because I was always very, I don’t know if it was protective, but I was cryptic about the past, let’s say,” she says. No more. The youngest child of an African American father and a white mother, Carey was three when her parents split up. Her childhood was threaded through with neglect and violence, not least from her older siblings. When she was six, she says, her older brother knocked her mother unconscious; when she was 12, her older sister allegedly drugged her and left her with creepy men.

“I think my staying up all night started from having such a dysfunctional family. Oftentimes, whoever was in the house was doing whatever it was that they were doing, and that felt kinda unsafe to me, so I started staying up,” she says. Another legacy of this time is Carey’s obsessive adoration of Christmas, because her childhood Christmases were so miserable. When she wrote the monster hit All I Want for Christmas Is You, she wanted, she says in her book, “to write a song that would make me feel like a carefree young girl at Christmas”.

As a child, her biracial identity made her feel she did not belong anywhere: she was so self-conscious about not being black enough that she wouldn’t even dance, as she associated that with black culture; meanwhile, white girls at school taunted her with the N-word. In one of Carey’s – and my – favourite chapters, she describes how her mother did not know how to look after her young daughter’s textured hair, so it was often matted. Carey would look enviously at the white women in shampoo adverts on TV with their flowing hair. “I am still obsessed with blowing hair, as evidenced by the wind machines employed in every photoshoot of me ever,” she writes.

One of the most painful moments in the book comes in 2001 when Carey is having what the press described as an emotional breakdown. (Carey writes that she did not have a breakdown, but “was broken down by the very people who were supposed to keep me whole.”) During this episode, she rages at her mother, who calls the police. The police take her mother’s side: “Even Mariah Carey couldn’t compete with a nameless white woman in distress,” Carey writes. Is that how she experienced it at the time, or is that how she feels generally, that not even she is safe if a white woman complains?

There is the briefest of pauses. “Those are my words, so please refer to page 29,” Carey says.

Race is very much the running theme in Carey’s memoir. This might come as some surprise to those who know her solely from the mega pop hits such as Hero and We Belong Together, as opposed to the more revealing songs, such as 1997’s Outside, which addressed her feelings of racial ambiguity (sample lyric: “Neither here nor there / Always somewhat out of place everywhere”). “I can’t help that I’m ambiguous-looking,” she says, “and most people would assume that it’s been to my benefit, and maybe it has in some ways. But it’s also been a lifelong quest to feel like I belong to any specific group. It shouldn’t have to be such a freaking thing – and please edit out the fact that I said ‘freaking’. I’m not very eloquent right now.” I ask if she was at all influenced during the writing of her book by the rise of Black Lives Matter. She dismisses the question: “Interestingly, this book predates everything that’s happening now, and the book just happened to be very timely.” In other words, Carey hasn’t caught up to the times, the times have caught up to Carey.

Despite her omnipresence over the past three decades, it is possible that you have not thought about her ethnicity. This, Carey says, has been part of the problem: from the start, she was marketed by “the powerful corporate entities” in a way that played down her racial identity. What made this even more complicated for her was that the most powerful corporate entity in charge of her career at the beginning was her first husband, Tommy Mottola, then the CEO of Sony Music.

Carey’s discovery by Mottola is the stuff of music industry legend. The then unknown aspiring singer gave him a tape of her music at a party in 1988. Mottola tracked her down, signed her and, a few years later, married her. She was 23 and he was 44. Within just a few pages in her memoir, she goes from wearing her mother’s busted shoes to work to living in a $30m mansion with Mottola, which she decorated with enthusiasm: “Though by no stretch do I like a rustic look, I do have a preference for tumbled marble on my kitchen floors,” she writes. Adjusting to the high life was not difficult.

The hits – I’ll Be There, Emotions, One Sweet Day – were unstoppable. The Mottola-Carey marriage did not fare as well, imploding in 1997. Carey expands at some length on her previous allusions to Mottola’s controlling tendencies, claiming he would spy on her and that she was effectively a prisoner in the house. In his 2013 memoir, Mottola admits his relationship with Carey was “absolutely wrong and inappropriate” and adds: “If it seemed like I was controlling, I apologise. Was I obsessive? Yes, but that was also a part of the reason for her success.” Carey points out that she went on to have nine hit albums without Mottola’s controlling obsession. She writes that Mottola tried to “wash the urban” off her, recoiling at Carey’s increasing leaning towards hip-hop and collaborations with African American artists such as ODB. “I believe I said ‘urban, translation black,’ just in case anyone thinks I don’t know,” Carey corrects me. Does she think that was just for commercial purposes, or was something else going on with Mottola? “In my opinion there was a lot of other stuff going on there,” she says.

It must have been pretty upsetting to revisit that period during the writing, I say.

“Yes it was traumatic, but was it harder than some of the other things I’ve gone through? Maybe yeah, actually,” she says with a rueful laugh. “I don’t know if I’ll ever fully recover from the damage of that emotional abuse. But in my school of thought, you have to be a forgiving person.”

Carey is extraordinarily honest in her memoir, but the book is almost as striking for what she does not include as what she does. A lot of attention has focused on her confirmation that she did, as long rumoured, have a fling with the former baseball star Derek Jeter (“I’m not being shady, but he had on pointy shoes,” she recalls a little shadily of their first meeting.) But there is no mention of other boyfriends, such as her former fiancé, the Australian billionaire James Packer.

“If it was a relationship that mattered, it’s in the book. If not, it didn’t occur,” she says.

But you were engaged to Packer, I say.

“We didn’t have a physical relationship, to be honest with you,” she says.

And that is that.

Carey’s singing voice made her famous, but her penchant for being thrillingly, hilariously high-maintenance played its own part in shaping her legend. On an episode of MTV Cribs, she explained that she had a chaise longue in her kitchen because “I have a rule against sitting up straight”, and she has talked about bathing only in milk. Does she think she is high-maintenance – and, if so, does she think it is because she came from nothing?

“You know what? I don’t give a shit. I fucking am high-maintenance because I deserve to be at this point. That may sound arrogant, but I hope you frame it within the context of coming from nothing. If I can’t be high-maintenance after working my ass off my entire life, oh, I’m sorry – I didn’t realise we all had to be low-maintenance. Hell, no! I was always high-maintenance, it’s just I didn’t have anyone to do the maintenance when I was growing up!” she says and cackles with delight.

By now it is almost 7am for her and she is wide awake. I tell her I enjoyed all the references in her book to her enjoying “a splash of wine”.

“Oh, do you? Do you love a splash for yourself?” she asks, pleased.

I do, but I was intrigued by her description of a night out with her friends, including Cam’Ron and Juelz Santana, when they were all “high” on “purple treats”. What were these “purple treats”?

“A legal substance in California known as mari-ju-ana. It’s called purple because that’s the particular weed they liked,” she says.

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And did she like it?

“Are you enquiring for yourself or are you asking if I enjoyed it?” she says, mock coy.

I am asking if you enjoyed it, Mariah.

“No, I hated it,” she deadpans, then laughs. “I’m sorry, but it’s obvious!”

I have been interviewing famous people for a long time, but talking with Carey is the closest I have come to how I imagine it would have been to spend time with Bette Davis or Aretha Franklin. There are lots of ridiculous modern celebrities, but Carey is not like that. With her mix of slightly self-parodic ridiculousness undercut with no-messin’, true-to-herself honesty, she is a proper grande dame of the old school. A diva, in other words. It is a term she has laboured under throughout her career, and it is unlikely she will escape it, even if people now finally know where she is coming from. Does she mind the D-word?

“No! Who the fuck cares?” she laughs. “Honestly! ‘Oh my God, they’re calling me a diva – I think I’m going to cry!’ You think in the grand scheme of things in my life that really matters to me, being called a diva? I am, bitches, that’s right!”

The Meaning of Mariah Carey (Macmillan, £20) and The Rarities (Sony Music) are out now.

• This article was amended on 5 October 2020 to clarify that it is in the United States where Mariah Carey is second only to the Beatles in terms of having the most No 1 singles.

[solarsystem69]

Hi 😊 for the system asks how about 🤫: Any Funny System Stories? 🥰: Any Wholesome System Stories? 🎨: Any Hobbies That Everyone In The System Enjoys? - c (The Union)

(Some of this is text convos i’ve had with ex-best mates and some is nsfw cuz funny stories for us generally are rude in nature lol nothing too explicit just weird flirting really) 

we used to make lissie and max dance together and lissie is like "hes an arse but i like to dance so okay" and max is like "fuck off" he dances with her anyway. so like yeah. then we are listening to music and we're like "Dance with lissie" and hes like "no" and so lissie is like "just go back to your lonely tower then, you downer" and hes like "Fine, i will. I will go.. all alone... to my bedroom" like thats hmmm. so once hes gone, lilly is like "Thats an open invitation to you to come to his room to bone" and lissie is like "lol no... wait... is it??" and doll face is like "oh definitely  " and so we send lissie off to find out whether it was in invitation to bone or not. and in our front room we have screens. a main one for the outerworld and some other ones for different rooms in the inner world castle. and so i tap the screen cuz its a little sketchy to use. but anyway, lissie had been upstairs for a while so were worried he killed her  but we see what went on. Lissie went to his room and knocked on the door and he answers. and hes like "I thought you told me to go away." and shes like "Yeah but i didnt think you would and then lilly said you gave me an invitation to join you and bone so.. i just..." and hes like "You came to take me up on my offer to bone?" smirk and shes like "Ugh no. you're an arse and youre rude and obnoxious" and hes like "Oh please go on, im very flattered rn" and shes like "it wasnt a compliment. ugh i hate you." and he like " actually you dont. you like me " and shes like "what no ew" and hes like "You do. i can see it and i understand why. They are all the same downstairs and im not like them" and shes like "Woah, dont you dare say they. they are all individuals" and hes like "Yes. but theyve all got strong morals and good hearts. and youre bored. so you like me" and shes like "ill kick your ass okay. those things are good things to have. youre a jerk" and by now shes like gradually moved closer to be 'intimidating'? and hes like "oh really?" smirkyness and shes like "Yea. youre just so mean and arrogant and you are such a bad person, you need to be--" and hes like "Say it, baby. i dare you." and shes like "..Punished.." and then bam hes practically throwing her on the bed and like ......... so thats when i turned that screen off. so like hilarious in hindsight but at the time. shooketh.

Doll face and lilly integrated (merged into 1 chick) which makes sense because doll face is too emotionally stable but impulsive and lilly is too emotionally unstable but logical. they didnt choose it and it is fairly easy now. or easier. doll face (loved them so much but ) was wayyy too impulsive. always making decisions for the worse but were fun which would have been fine if they actually cared but they didnt. thats okay. they were young. and lilly was lonely and needed to care a little less about her past. and idk. but its deffo for the better. yeah they were family basically anyway so i think shes really happy about it tho sometimes they do look in a mirror like "Wow. now ive got no dick and some small tits". i mean lmao. she really does focus on the small boobs thing. and we're like "they are average 🙂 " and shes like "No. easy for u to say tit-anosaurus rex"

Also, Nate almost called one of our ex-best mates mum’s a milf. 

(ugh going through old messages to mates to see if i can find more funny stories ad accidentally came across trauma ewwww miss me with that shit)

Wholesome... hmmm. we have plenty of sorta funny, interesting stories. Oh actually yes. I know. Okay, so i sorta just am always stalking around the inner world so i see almost everything. But this starts in our front room (like our fronting room but our living room, its genius ik)  we were listening to music (or Nate was) and Fox decided to come dance in the fronting room to the bops and me and Lilly saw them dancing very saucily together 😏 ya know. So we laughed and left. So we're listening to music on the way home and Lilly, Fox and Nate are in the room. And its all chill and then Nate starts flirting with Fox and Fox is all blushing and looking down like "Idk what to do rn" and Lilly and I are laughing and then Fox slightly reciprocated (as a joke probably...) And now Nate jas him basically pinned against a wall. Not physically just like with his intense eye contact. 😂 its hilarious. Lilly is threatening to go get Lissie because she was like "You two dicks aren't going near each other." And Nates like "What gives you the right to declare where my cock goes?" 😂 like wow. And Lilly was like "Oh I'm just going to go get Lissie then" and Nate was like "No no. Don't do that." Cuz Lissie really has the right 😂😂. Nate asked Fox to kiss him and Fox said "No..." 😂 savage but then you make my balls so blue from heathers came on and I'm dead. Fox: Sorry. Its not you. I just can't.. Nate: Okay. You don't have to. Lilly and me: *Sad eye contact cuz we know why Fox doesn't want to kiss anyone* Fox: *Kisses Nate on the cheek* Nate: *Blushes adorably- breaking his bad ass persona* Nate: you know not all sexual stuff involves kissing. Uh. If you don't want it to. Fox: *giggles quietly like a lil twink* I don't want any sex though. As pretty as you are, I just don't want that. Nate: *is absolutely crushed* Yeah. Okay. But I need some cock so imma head out and try to gain some pride. Lilly: I've not built the village in this innerworld yet so.. Idk where you're heading out to. Nate: *sighs so deeply* I'll be in my room then. Stay out. Fox: Sorry. I didn't mean to egg him on at first only to deny him. I just thought it would be fun and then I thought even if it did lead to sex then it wouldn't matter because I don't mind and then I remembered that I did mind and I don't want that. Lilly: *hugs Fox* that's alright. He'll get over it. He's tried it on with all of us atleast once and we're all women. I would've saved Fox from Nate only He didn't look like he wanted to be saved. at this point in time, our innerworld was still being built by lilly so we all were sleeping in one room, with the littles. and i witnessed the sweetest thing. So I was doing the final checks to make sure everyone was in bed and since Nate doesn't want to sleep with the Littles anymore (they can be slightly irritating) I had to go find his room. He's in a tower room. Its not got a bed and it's freezing but hey no loud children. And as I'm about to turn the corner I see Fox knocking on his door after clearly being there for a while debating whether or not to because Nate told us to stay out. Quickly Nate opens the door and immediately as he sees fox, puts his hand on Fox's arm gently (how sweet. Hes not usually gentle) and Fox is all: I'm sorry. I just couldn't kiss you. Just recently with the bad things and the kissing involved in the bad thing. And Nates all: its okay. I shouldn't have put pressure on you like that. I'm so sorry. I understand. And he's hugging him. Like and kissing his head and hes like "Is that alright?" And fox is like "Yeah. Its nice." And squeezes the hug tighter. So sweet honestly. And then Nates like "I know I'm really sexual and that makes you uncomfortable a lot but you know I would never want you to do anything you didn't want to." And fox is all like "I'm just so scared that I'm never going to be able to kiss anyone ever again because I can't get over that time and I really want to forget it." And Nates hugging him really tight and cuz he's taller, he can rest his chin on Fox's head. And im still watching cuz I'm weird and entranced by these confessions. And then Nates like "Do you want to come in?" And Fox is like "No Littles tonight?" And Nates smiling nicely and is like "No I get nightmares and I don't wanna wake them up. And theyre annoying as heck." And fox is like "I know what you mean. Yeah I'll come in." And Nate leads Fox in by his hips gently. *fox and lissie talking bout feelings* Lissie: what's wrong, my sweet? Who hurt you? Fox: *Wiping tears away* no one really. I'm fine. I don't even know why I'm crying. Lissie: Its okay to be sad sometimes. Fox: I'm not sad. I'm nothing. Just numbness. Lissie: that's worse than being sad. Tell me, sweetie. What happened. Fox: I asked Nate to be my boyfriend. I mean, I was kissing him and I didn't get any flashbacks even when I was overthinking and remembering. Nothing and it was so relieving. And I asked him. And he said he had to go for a walk. Lissie: Oh darling. It'll be okay. He loves you. Fox: Does he now? sigh I just love him so much. I love him more than you approve of. I love him so much I don't know what to do. But in not what he needs. He wants physical love and even so, he cant handle commitment. And I know that you don't want us together so you'll get your wish but I need him. Ive never been so relaxed and happy. Lissie: That's true. I've never seen you so happy as recently. I'm glad Nate could bring that to you but I don't approve, no. But if you're going to be together, I will support it. I will encourage happiness, that's a promise I can keep. I'm not disapproving to make it impossible for you to be together, in only disapproving so you have to prove to me that you two can make it. If you two make each other happy, I will be there for you no matter what. Fox: Thank you..... They spoke more but I didn't listen. After strictly avoiding Nate for three days, Fox finally has the courage to face up to him. As the group exit the cozy dining room, Fox weakly holds on to Nate's elbow. Obeying, Nate stares at the ground, clenching his jaw. "I'll start, I suppose." Fox forces out, false confidence strengthening the statement. "I-I'm really sorry that I asked you out. Of course, you wouldn't say yes. That's fine. Completely fine. And I'm really sorry that I made you uncomfortable with me. I really do like you though. Like love really. And even though you don't feel the same... I can't just be your friend. We can keep trying but it will just make us both miserable. We're just lucky the others are giving us time to figure it out instead of just getting rid of us for being dramatic." Fox rants,  getting out of breath and manic toward the end. "I have never heard you say so many words. Are you okay?" Nate smiles charmingly, concerned. "No." Fox answers honestly, a tremble in his voice. Suddenly, Fox is embraced by warm, strong arms. Wriggling further into Nate's warmth, Fox breathes in the boyish scent of Nate. All sharp and smooth. The arms tighten around Fox's shoulders. "I love you too. You know this. I'm sorry that I've been... Not great recently. I just thought we could both use some space. The village... It's the next thing to be built. But I-I don't just want it there for sex. I wouldn't do that to you. I just like the people they're interesting and good friends. You're the one I want. They're nothing compared to the beautiful complexities of you. I hope you'll accept my request to be your boyfriend." Nate excruciatingly slowly spills his soul, hands rubbing the back of Fox's neck how he likes it. Fox freezes, slowly pulling away after a few moments. "You... I'm sorry, what?" Fox whispers, teary eyed. "Please let me be your boyfriend. I'll beg on my knees, I swear. I'm so sorry. I've never been so lonely as I've been without you. Please come back to me." Nate practically sobs, hands reaching up to cover his face. "You actually want to be my boyfriend? What? No... That can't be right... Right? What?" Fox, ever the articulate bean, mutters, completely confused and shocked. "Yes. I want to be your boyfriend. I won't have sex with anyone and I won't hug or touch anyone else I swear. I miss you so much. I hate everyone else so much. I need you." Nate falls to his knees, taking Fox's hand in his and pressed his lips to the soft skin as he rambles, tears falling down his face. "You absolute idiot. You moron. You complete fool." Fox sighs, rambling random tiny insults, before falling to his knees and taking Nate's face in his hands. "I'm so totally in love with you." Fox mumbles, pressing his forehead to Nate's. a couple weeks later: they sang a love song together. 😩 I literally cried. Nate on his guitar and Fox singing. Ive never seen him so relaxed and happy. Ahhh. I wanna cry I'm so excited. 😂😂😂 these boys will be the death of me. theyre both the biggest drama queens and they so gay.

im so sorry that was so long but their relationship created so much drama between us bc we didnt know if it would work out and theyre the most wholesome boys, except nate but well he has his moments. softest boiis uwu. 

Everyone in the system likes to sing and play games and read. Fox mainly likes to write and stuff but Evan is also knows for her nice stories on wattpad lmao. We arent very active, so we dont do much sport but we do like badminton and we used to do a running club. Evan likes baking, where it stressed me tf out. i cant even crack an egg right. only Evan draws really. Our main hobbies are minecraft, eating unhealthy foods and sleeping :) 

[mrf34r4rch1ve]

 < mr s4 spoilers >

hey so here’s my running commentary of 401 UNAUTHORIZED under the cut 

Does USA’s audio sound awful for anyone else? Unbearable echo-y?

These foley artists on Price’s footsteps though good shit

OH MY FUCKING GOD OH NO NOT SO EARLY NOT SO NOT SO HOLY SHIT FUCK

WE KNEW BUT SO FUCKING SOON???????

THERE ARE PEOPLE WHO LOVE HER YOU JUST LOST VIEWERS FOR THE SEASON ESMAIL DAMN

Oh shit the new G...G name guy for Whiterose

WHO ALSO HATES ELLIOT? Wow. Whiterose has a trend with assistants who hate Elliot deeply. They must all love her in some capacity.

“My dear Elliot”

HE WILL NOT ENJOY HIS CHRISTMAS YOU KILLED HIS BEST FRIEND

love this credits in the middle thing tho.

GIVING US TIME TO GRIEVE are you YA SICK BASTARD

Oh damn Dark Army owns fred

ANOTHER FUCKING PEDOPHILE WHAT THE FUCK WHY ESMAIL WHY WHY WHY

Thanks MR. Glad you also hate pedos.

I WAS JUST TAKING A MOMENT TO DECIDE WHETHER OR NOT I GIVE A FUCK. I DONT.

Imagining this in Elliot’s voice is so good too.

YOU FUCKER ESMAIL YOU COULD HAVE GIVEN HIS NAME? DOES HE HAVE A NAME? HE DOESNT CALL HIMSELF MR OR HE WOULDNT HAVE SCOFFED AT KRISTA TWICE?

Subtitles called Tyrell a CEO instead of CTO. He would gag at the thought.

HE HAS A FUCKING BLUETOOTH oh no it’s one earbud. I love my dad.

AS FAR AS YOURE CONCERNED IM EVERYWHERE

EYYYY NICE MR NICE

Is Ed actively gonna get this guy killed just to meet with Dark Army

WORKING TOGETHER YAAAASSS HEY BABE HI ELLIOT DAMN WOW NICE

THANKS I LOVE IT

THE OPPOSITE OF THANKS I HATE IT

EXCEPT ABOUT ANGELA

Fred Elliot already knows that shit.

YUP SEE HE SAYS IT

Stop lying Fredward. He’s fucking lying. I know he’s lying. He just wants to kill Elliot in an abandoned alleyway.

OH SHIT THE BADGE

hdjshd Fred figured it out.

OHHH SHIT BYE

ELLIOT IF YOU CHECK IT OUT THEN DARK ARMY WILL KNOW YOU KNOW SHIT MAN

Ty-Rell Ty-Rell Ty-Rell!!!

How’s baby gonna let off some steam huh? Is he okay? Cry? Break things?

I LOVE THAT MUSIC THO TAP TAP MOTHERF— oh no Dom is ill from being evil all the time

Is that Ed??????? In Dom’s house???

Oh omg. Jdjshdjdjd it’s a plumber

Glad the plumber is...being cool abt that fjdjdj

Omg in the abandoned Allsafe—

I love them working together fuck.

I LOVE THAT THEYRE IN THE DAMN ALLSAFE OFFICE.

Ed doesn’t wanna rush in? Good. Character development.

I love their diff in philosophy damn. Ed’s confusion abt Elliot’s stance on bad people dying.

Do either of them know about Angela though?

Oh shit there it is.

IM DONE WITH THERAPY SESSIONS. AHHHH.

And you know Ed is the one having to eat and keep them healthy since Elliot is “only focused on Whiterose and the 1%.”

OH SHIT THEY DONT KNOW THEY MEANT SOMETHING F— OH.

Oh shit. No you didn’t baby.

ED HAD TO TAKE IT ELLIOT COULDNT DO THIS, SHIT. FUCK. HES DONE THIS BEFORE HES ALWAYS DOES THIS FOR DARLENE.

ELLIOT GETTING PISSED IS WORSE. ELLIOT GETTING PISSED AND IN DARLENES FACE IS WORSE THAN ROBOT. ITS WORSE.

Their apartment is fucking nasty, thank you set designers.

Ed don’t start. Ed. Oh. That’s not a bad idea. WAIT WHAT WAS THAT WAS THAT ANGELA FIGHT CLUB P.ENIC PIC STYLE FUCK YOU ESMAIL.

ED HELLO DARLING. THANKS FOR TALKING TO US.

Ed drawing attention to the quiet ass hallway. Good. Love the colors.

“No shit.” “Ah, fuck.” I love them. “Did you hear me?” Ed checks the window all paranoid. baby.

Ed’s back in his hobo gloves Yassss gotta add that to my cosplay

ITS AN IRL HONEYPOT STFU DAMN

DAMN SHIT

DAMN

HIDE BOYS HIDE

OH SHIT THEY DIDNT HIDE IN TIME.

SHIT.

FUCK.

Mm that subtle homophobia from a family friend. Cool. Or a relative. Nice. Feels organic.

HDSJHDS AND THE JOKE DOESNT LAND JESUS.

Where’s Irv?

JDJSD WHY DID THE MOM SHARE ALL OF THAT. Also “a promotion” fjsjdjdbd

YES GIVE DOM A FRIEND

BUT NO NOT THAT ONE

OH FUCK. SHES DARK ARMY OH SHIT.

OH SHIT.

SHE TAXADERMISJFHSJFJDJDHDJSHD PEOPLE

AND THERE’S IRV BUT DIFFERENT FUCK

hdjshdjs Flat earther’s tho

Oh no Angela’s ballet shoes :( fuck you esmail :(

Godddddddddd Darlene

GODDDDDD WTF ARE THEY DOING TO ELLIOT

Omg. Elliot they don’t give a shit about that. Oh poor thing. Nopeeeee they’re killing you......

ESMAIL ABT TO KILL HIS OWN BOY DAMN

GOODBYE FRIEND

OH FUCK

OH FUCK

ALFRED HITCHCOCK UP IN THIS BITCH HOW YOU GONNA GET OUTTA THIS ONE ELLIOT IS IT STRONGER THAN MORPHINE??

YUP IT IS

Oh shit there he goes....

Oh my god Krista? OH SHIT ITS HIS MOM OH SHIT ITS FJDJDJD

THE TEAR

HAHA YEAH RIGHT

FUCKING BITCH

I LOVE YOU BITCH (Esmail)

AINT NEVER GONNA STOP LOVING YOU BIIIIITCH (Esmaaaail)

Oh hey Price

[lesbeet]

so i finally got my hands on a copy of the anatomy of story by john truby and genuinely it’s changing the way i look at stories and at writing particularly

i’m like 30k into this fic i’ve been working on and i’ve already made a lot of big changes plot-wise (which for me is a big deal since i’m notoriously horrible at killing my darlings); and i just recently decided to try and like. write an entire first draft before going through and actually um. you know. editing it, instead of spending half an hour on a single paragraph hating myself the entire way bc i can’t get it to sound perfect

so i was ready to just like word vomit the rest of the story so i actually had pieces to work with, since i do actually enjoy the editing process a lot anyway and a bunch of author bloggers made the really good point that there’s no use spending all of that time fine-tuning scenes or sentences that might end up getting cut

so i’ve been like ! ok cool i’m gonna start with a giant block of marble and gouge out big chunks of it to make the rough shape of the thing, then with each new pass i’ll just refine it more and more until i get to the level where everything is the way i want it story-wise so i can focus on the style without worrying about the rest

HOWEVER i’ve almost finished the anatomy of story even though i just got it yesterday and i’m like. completely reevaluating my entire plot basically? like not really, a lot of what i’ve written is still (hopefully) usable so it’s not like i have to toss 30k words and start entirely from scratch or anything, but now i’m just like.

i don’t wanna go into too much detail bc i really haven’t told anyone much about this fic and i want to keep it that way AT LEAST until the first draft + initial revision are done bc sharing a WIP is a surefire way for me to become paralyzed by self-doubt and stop working on the thing forever

but basically i’m like.

there are 2 pretty distinct sections of my plot (obviously connected), and i guess right now i’m trying to figure out what the proper balance is between the two of them. one section is the development of harry and draco’s relationship from “enemies” to lovers (i say “enemies” bc true to form theyre really the only ones who actually think they’re enemies. everyone else is like uh huh sure! whatever you say!) and the other is related to the overarching plot not solely focused on h/d as a romantic relationship

and i guess that’s probably a struggle a lot of ship fic writers have? like especially for fics that have plots that reach beyond the development of the relationship. like i think if this were an original work and everything were the same except the character names and the wizarding world setting, the relationship would be a subplot almost for sure, but since it’s a fic it’s like. do i want to relegate the reason i’m writing the fic in the first place to just being a subplot? do h/d fic readers WANT to read a story where the relationship isn’t the main plot?

not to say it’s never been done bc it totally has, but the way i’m thinking my story would probably work best (if i DON’T center it so heavily around the relationship) wouldn’t allow me to get as in-depth about the relationship as i would want in order to like. satisfy me as a drarry fic writer.

it’s very much like. i want to go where the story wants to go, and i can’t figure out if the story is taking me somewhere that would compromise the development of the relationship as it is or if i just haven’t thought it through enough and can make it work (or if i’m creating problems where there aren’t any, which i also have been known to do)

and the various options  include making decisions like adding or cutting characters, deciding between chronological order and not, etc, and i think i can at least solve the latter problem by just writing it in chronological order and then deciding how to organize it later, but

god idk i’m grateful for the new insight like this book is really making me think about things in a new way—not because it’s introducing concepts with which i was unfamiliar, but because it asks the reader to think about these familiar concepts in a way that really appeals to the particular way my own mind works, especially when creating, ESPECIALLY when writing

i’m not even really asking for advice i guess because i gave such little detail about the issue (and what i did say was probably confusing skdjflsd) but like. if anyone has thoughts i  would be happy to consider some new angles on this!

[mrsimoshen]

I’m Your Private Dancer

Title: I’m Your Private Dancer

Link: I'm Your Private Dancer on AO3

Square filled: Human Cas

Ship: Castiel/Michael

Rating: Mature

Tags: Human AU, human!Cas, human!michael, Prostitution/male escort Cas, Client Michael, Lingerie, Anal Plug, implied cross-dressing, Anal Sex

Summary: Male escort Castiel meets a client. 

Word count: 2738

created for @spnkinkbingo

tagging: @lucibae-is-dancing-in-hell​, @silvaxus, @blakechaos08, @princerusso, @masterpieceofturkeycleverness   @ajcza​, @buggre-alle-thisss-ineffability​, @brieflymaximumprincess​, @captain-winchester-27​

Fic below the cut:

All the men come in these places And the men are all the same You don't look at their faces And you don't ask their names You don't think of them as human You don't think of them at all You keep your mind on the money Keeping your eyes on the wall

  Castiel Novak snorts as Tina’s voice croons on. He’s always thought the dancer in that song was a metaphor for something else, but it’s a bit of an irony that this song would come up on the radio just as he’s getting ready for an appointment.

Unlike the narrator of the song, however, Castiel doesn’t keep his clients at arm’s length. He knows the name of each, knows their faces, their voices, just as he knows the preferences of every man he regularly meets. Of course, it’s about the money – Castiel would be lying if he claimed otherwise, and he’s many things, but not a liar – but if he didn’t enjoy what he does, he would have chosen a different career path a long time ago.

Today, he’s wearing silky thigh-highs and a garter belt along with a pair of low-cut panties and a slinky camisole, all in darkest black with green lace accents. His client likes it when he can easily slide into him, so Cas took care in opening himself up earlier, and now he can feel the familiar weight of the glass plug in his hole. He’s half-hard from all that, and will probably remain so all throughout the evening, but his client enjoys that, too.

Cas hums along to the refrain as he carefully applies just a bit of make-up. It’s very subtle, almost unnoticeable to anyone who doesn’t know the trick, but it makes his eyes appear larger, their blue more intense. It’s not really necessary for the client he’s meeting, but it’s a habit, and he likes the effect.

Make-up done, Castiel gets up – shivering a bit as the weight of the plug inside him makes itself known again and silk brushes against his skin – and walks to his cupboard to select this evening’s wardrobe.

He has a wide range of choice, there – the jeans and shirts he prefers for when he doesn’t work, tailored suits and leather pants and jackets, fine loafers and heavy biker boots, even a few dresses for one particular client he’s since stopped seeing. Throwing the dresses out seemed wasteful, however, so Castiel carefully stored them in their bags and let them live in his cupboard.

Today, he picks out a suit he knows is a favorite of his client. “It brings out your eyes,” he’s always told, and since it’s surprisingly comfortable (which really should be expected, it was made-to-measure and cost a pretty penny, it should be comfortable), Castiel enjoys wearing it, too.

Suit put on and shoes set to the side, Cas stretches out on his couch and lets himself day-dream about how the evening might progress.

His clients all treat him well, mutual respect the most important aspect of the whole deal – if Cas feels disrespected as a human being once because of the service he provides, people find themselves permanently removed from his client list fast. And Castiel also has the connections to ruin a person’s life in interesting ways.

The man he’s meeting today has a taste for European food, the authentic version and not the Americanized deal, but it’s anyone’s guess what nation’s cuisine he’ll be treated to tonight. What they’ll do after that… well, Castiel is horny, so he hopes he’ll be taken to his client’s home after and get fucked a few times, but it’s equally likely his lover for the night will take him to some art show or concert or even the movies after dinner. It’s all happened before. (Castiel’s favorite memory is the time this particular man fucked him, slow and intimate, in a VIP box at the opera where, in theory, anyone who looked into the shadows of their box could have seen them. He spent almost the whole opera on his lover’s cock, and that night was spectacular, once they were in the privacy of his client’s home.)

But he knows the man’s tastes in that area, too, and there’s no opera shown tonight that might catch his fancy. He’s not quite as up-to-date on the movies, and there’s always an art gallery somewhere who’s having a show.

Cas smiles as his phone gives a quiet chirp to alert him to an incoming text message. None of his clients know his actual address, they just know the address of the private, guarded parking lot where he habitually leaves his car. He needs ten minutes from his apartment to that parking lot, and he’s told his clients to inform him when they’ve arrived. Those ten minutes waiting sometimes yield... interesting results.

I’m here, darling.

Castiel slips his shoes on and grabs his keys, phone, wallet, and coat. It’s cold outside, it’s only February, so he adds his favorite scarf to the ensemble and leaves his apartment.

 His client’s car is idling in its spot when Castiel opens the door and slides into the passenger seat, and he’s very glad about the warmth enveloping him.

“Hello, Michael.”

“Hello, Castiel,” his client returns with a warm smile and leans over the stick shift and hand brake to greet him with a soft brush of lips on lips. Castiel smiles and angles his head into the soft kiss. Michael is one of the affectionate clients, and Castiel likes the gentle touches an evening with Michael always includes. It feels a little as if they’re truly a couple out on a date night.

Michael waits until Castiel has put on his seat belt before pulling out into the traffic. He’s one of those drivers in whose car Castiel thinks he could actually fall asleep if the distance was long enough. He’s not usually one for sleeping in anyone’s car, an accident that cost him a childhood friend having left a deep impression, but Michael is calm and controlled in everything he does (unless he’s fucking Castiel in the privacy of his own bed. Then, there’s only wild passion in him.) and he always weaves through traffic so smoothly Castiel never felt anything but safe in his car.

“Where are we going?”

“Wait and see, darling,” Michael chuckles and makes a turn. “I do hope you enjoy tapas.”

Cas does, especially if they’re served in a small restaurant that looks as if it was imported from Spain, beams, stones and furniture. There are large pieces of jamón serrano hanging from the ceiling, the Spanish music in the background is just low enough to not interrupt a conversation but lend a certain ambience to the whole restaurant, and the food is perfect. Castiel enjoys every bite he’s served, enjoys the sour wine that he’d usually never pick (he has a sweet tooth when it comes to wine) but that fits perfectly with the dishes they’re served.

Michael, who sticks to sparkling water, takes a single sip on Castiel’s insistence and agrees with him with a smile, licking his lips. “It does compliment the food very well,” he hums. Castiel shivers a little at the tone of voice.

Michael surprises him by driving to his own apartment after dinner. When he notices Cas’ questioning look, he grins.

“I thought we could watch a movie at my place,” he murmurs, using an upcoming red light to stroke a hand up Castiel’s leg slowly. “I can’t wait to see what you’ve got beneath that suit for me today, darling.”

Castiel shivers a little and lets his legs fall a little wider with a smile.

“Would you like to guess?” he invites, and Michael laughs and pulls his hand back as the light changes to green.

“Let me fantasize a moment longer.”

 Michael’s apartment is in one of the more expensive parts of town, and Castiel has enough information about his lover of the night to know that Michael works for a high-end law firm and comes from a rich family background. Castiel himself is rather expensive, and he knows from experience Michael has a taste for the finer things in life. Which is probably a compliment in itself.

“Get comfortable,” Michael invites him with a smile, taking Castiel’s coat to hang it up neatly. “Would you like a drink, or coffee?”

“Coffee, please,” Castiel requests with a smile. He wanders further into the apartment as Michael goes to convince his high-end coffee machine to produce the dark liquid and decides to be just a bit of a tease. He leaves his shoes neatly by the living room doorway, then drops his tie on the way to the couch. By the time he’s stretched out on the ridiculously comfortable piece of furniture, his shirt is unbuttoned just enough so that a teasing hint of green lace is visible against his skin.

Michael doesn’t notice at first, concentrating on the coffee cups in his hands, but when he sits down and hands Castiel his coffee, his eyes widen.

“Oh, you little tease,” he breathes with a grin. Castiel laughs and sips his coffee.

“Now, I would be a tease if I didn’t plan to deliver,” he corrects calmly. “I very much intend to deliver, dear Michael.”

“I very much appreciate that,” Michael sinks down onto the couch himself, close enough to Castiel he can feel the other man’s body warmth. “Any preference on the movie?”

Castiel glances over Michael’s pre-selection and decides on one he’s already seen but could stand to watch a second time. He’s guessing they won’t see the end of the movie, not if he starts seducing Michael as soon as they have emptied their coffee mugs. Michael always lets Castiel make the first move, always lets Castiel decide how far they go, and Castiel appreciates it. (Once, he’d told Michael to ravish him, make him forget everything around them. He’s definitely going to do that again someday, because that night ranks top amongst those he’ll never forget.)

For now, he’s content to lean against Michael’s side and sip his coffee as they watch the beginning of the movie. It’s really good coffee, and Michael knows by now how Castiel prefers his, and so it’s not to be rushed but savored.

Half an hour into the movie, Castiel finally sets his empty mug down on the coffee table next to Michael’s and stretches before turning to Michael. He softly brushes his mouth over Michael’s, flicks his tongue out just a little bit, and Michael sighs and cups his face, pulls him into a deeper kiss.

They take their time, kisses turning deeper and hungrier slowly. Castiel ends up straddling Michael’s legs, almost in his lap as they kiss. Michael groans when Castiel leans back to further unbutton his shirt, revealing more of the black silk and green lace beneath.

“Touch me,” he invites in a rough whisper, and Michael’s hands almost fly to his sides, stroke up over black silk reverently.

“Get rid of the shirt,” Michael murmurs, his eyes on the way his hands look on the silk. Castiel laughs and complies, and then gasps when gentle fingers rub and tease at one of his nipples through the material. Michael alternates between stroking soft silk and rougher lace over the sensitive nub until Castiel is biting his lower lip and breathing noticeably faster.

“I want to see you,” Michael murmurs, finally showing mercy on the nipple he was playing with. Permission to touch given, he’s slipping back into the dominant role he usually prefers when they meet. Castiel smiles and slides off his lap, taking a few steps back to let Michael see all of him. He takes his time undoing his belt, the button on his pants and the zipper, and when he finally lets the garment fall, Michael moans and presses a hand against his own crotch.

“Like what you see?” Castiel purrs, slowly walking back towards his lover for the night. “I chose the green just for you.”

“Oh, I very much like what I see,” Michael breathes, looking Castiel up and down slowly. “Damn, you’re pretty, darling.”

“Why, thank you, Michael,” Castiel purrs, slowly climbing back up onto the couch and into Michael’s lap. Michael shivers and strokes up his thighs. He makes a low sound when he notices Castiel wears the panties over the garter belt – meaning he can take them off and leave belt and stockings in place.

“Very nice,” he murmurs, stroking up underneath the camisole. “You’re spoiling me, Castiel.”

Castiel laughs quietly and raises his arms to let Michael strip the camisole from him. He moans as Michael leans forward to lick and suck at the nipple he’d neglected before, buries his hands in Michael’s dark hair. “Oh…”

“Always so sensitive for me,” Michael hums and blows cool air over wet skin. Castiel shivers and watches Michael’s eyes darken further. “Bedroom.”

They end up leaving a trail of Michael’s clothes from the couch to the bed, and Castiel ends up on his back on the sheets, Michael on his hands and knees above him. His lover looks him up and down hungrily before kissing him again, harder and deeper this time until Castiel is out of breath and clinging to the soft cotton.

Michael peels him out of the panties with teasing touches, then spends a few minutes licking at Castiel’s hard cock before reaching to the bedside table for the lube. Cas pulls his knees up and bares himself, clenches down on the glass plug inside him with a low moan and his eyes on the impressive erection between Michael’s legs. Michael groans at seeing the glass between his cheeks.

“How open are you, darling?”

“Enough you can slide right in,” Cas promises huskily and then moans when Michael lightly tugs on the plug, pulling it out a little before letting it slide back in. He keeps doing it until Cas is moaning and begging for him to please, please fuck him, and Cas nearly sobs in relief when the plug gets pulled free finally and he hears the distinct sound of a condom wrapper being opened.

Michael’s cock pushing into him has him whine in need, because no matter how nice a glass plug is, it will never come close to an actual cock in Castiel’s opinion, and Michael is big enough to stretch him a little even after wearing the plug for hours.

His lover of the night is also a man of infinite patience, so the first slide in is slow and gentle, until Michael is as deep as he can get and Castiel is panting and moaning, feeling so damn full. “Please, move,” he gasps out, and Michael chuckles and complies, guiding Cas’ legs up around his hips before starting to roll his hips, slow and gentle and just enough to drive Cas slowly but surely mad.

He’s begging in a constant, breathless stream of words by the time Michael takes pity on him and starts moving faster and harder, and Castiel nearly screams when a hand wraps around his cock and starts stroking him in time with the thrusts into him.

Michael’s cock rubs insistently over his prostate, and Cas lasts only a handful of thrusts more before arching his back and shouting, covering Michael’s hand and his own belly with his release. Michael groans deep and low as Castiel’s hole clenches down on him hard but keeps fucking Castiel until he sinks back into the mattress. Only then does his lover let go himself, coming with a few more hard thrusts into Castiel’s twitching hole.

Cas pants and watches as Michael does the same. In a moment, his green-eyed lover of the night will pull out and get rid of the condom, and there’ll be sparkly water fresh from the fridge for him and a warm, wet washcloth to clean up with. Michael will curl up around him for a while and they’ll talk about whatever comes to mind, and maybe, they’ll have sex again if the mood strikes them.

In the morning, there will be a white envelope with the sum Michael owes him in cash, and Castiel will return to his own apartment and shower, and in a few days, he’ll get ready for the next appointment.

 Yes, Cas is a private dancer, but he likes dancing to his own tune.

[vanogla]

got any vanogla headcanons? idc if its in au or not all i know is that I Need Vanogla Content Or I'll Die.

aw fuck don’t die i need every vanogla fan alive if i want to grow my empire 

ah jeez, this list is going to be a friggin’ mess so it’ll be under a cut-

general headcanons

here’s my base for hcs when i watch their videos. please remember that these are merely headcanons and may not be true!

*Evan’s only mean to David when Tyler is around; when they’re alone they laugh literally every other sentence and make harmless jokes and its all feel good banter 👍

*they’re both awkward in public and avoid PDA; if u ask them abt their (established) relationship they’ll be very tight-lipped abt it（・θ・）

*its not a headcanon that they’re both born in the same year :) you may have noticed that i draw Evan’s height in line with David’s caterpillar eyebrows so that’s my height diff hc :D

*imo Evan never uses pet names or terms of endearments with David, he’s not comfortable with it, and the furthest he’ll go is “babe”. David comes up with the shittiest, most obnoxious nicknames for Evan as much as possible to make up for it tho, and he’s not afraid to embarrass Evan in public with them xD however the only legit terms of endearment David uses are “dear” and “darling” cuz he’s an old man at heart

*this one is a rather unpopular one but i can never see Evan casually calling daithi “David” instead of “Nogla”. I know its like a relationship milestone to call him by his first name, but i cant see it happening unless its for a joke (e.g David Blaine from one of the vids) so imo daithi will forever be “Nogla” to Evan. (However if it’s AU im completely 100% all for it yes)

*Evan isn’t as smart as David thinks he is (tbh David puts him on a pedestal), and Evan doesn’t actually think David is stupid or dim (shown when he calls David “smurt” when he gives a good idea). i fuckin love it when they discuss solutions to the game together because they’re so quiet and serious in those moments :>

*surprisingly Evan overthinks more than David does; he’s actually a doubtful guy. David’s generally more impulsive than Evan, but he can form a black-or-white opinion depending on the facts he’s given. Evan on the other hand will stay in the grey area- he’ll find some way to balance out both sides (unless it’s morally wrong then hell no- he’s def picking a side)

*idk how to explain this one but i really love the way they say each other’s names. I noticed in some videos that David will keep calling “Evan” multiple times to get his attention and same goes for Evan repeating “Nogla” a buncha times to show or tell David something- and i just find it really cute and dorky.. if i could i would compile all of these moments together (Ｔ▽Ｔ)

*just sayin’: when they call each other ‘owl’ and ‘lobster’ it sounds flirty as fuck

*this is sappy but i definitely think that Evan is 100% himself when he’s with David. With David, he doesnt have to be the coolass-motherfucker-with-awesome-one-liners, and instead he openly giggles and asks for help/affection without having to filter himself to sound cool (i think this can be seen in some of their videos as well). although he isn’t as comfortable with David when other ppl are around, when they’re on their own Evan can always count on David to be encouraging, supportive and playing along with Evan’s jokes so that’s why Evan is so comfortable with David ( ´ ▽ ` )

*fuckin hell they’ll always come back together; whether as friends or lovers they could never permanently cut each other out of their lives because their lives are so entwined with each other- David having Evan in his thumbnails/in the title, Evan laughing at David’s shenanigans are the highlight of his videos- and no matter how harsh they seem with each other they’ll always bounce back in the end :’)

*i think that they have a closer relationship than casual viewers of the crew think, and so they are forever a memorable aspect of each others lives (ye, theyre my OTP and BrOTP ヽ( ´¬`)ノ) 

*despite all’a this, i dont think they need each other, of course they can be independent and go their separate ways. but i just know for a fact that sooner or later they’re gonna see something that reminds them of the other and the memories will remind them of good times ^_^

*err i have like, 1 solid nsfw one and that is neither of them like penetration so they rarely do it. Its not because i have anything against anal, its because i don’t see either of them as people who enjoy being penetrated. Generally I don’t see them as a pair who’d have sex often anyway (^_^;) -however when they do they’d be laughing so much thru it ◎▼◎ (ill be posting a list for this veryverysoon! [update: here it is])

additional headcanons

here’s some of my indulgent hcs ^_^ here’s where the good stuffs at, cuz the general hcs don’t necessarily apply to these ones:

*David pining is my favourite thing ever like he’ll write a lot of songs abt Evan and he’ll post them and say that it’s not for anyone in particular but its a fucking lie because he literally has only one person on his mind when he writes it and sings it but he’ll never tell anyone and he sure as hell won’t tell Evan

*Evan pining is also v good yes :’) He’s fuckin scared that David’ll know that he has a soft spot for the Irish prick so he hides it with jabs and insults. but sometimes his fondness slips thru and his laugh comes out a lot warmer than he’d intended and his eyes linger on David and for a split second it feels like he knows, he fucking knows and yeah it scares him so in the end both of them think their feelings are unrequited woohoo

*i have a love/hate relationship with whipped!Evan cuz it feels like i stripped him of his personality but its the only way i can get him to shower David with affection so Welp he’s staying for the fluff

*whipped!Evan snippets: Evan longingly gazing at David like David would disappear the moment he blinks + Evan being bold and chasing after David because ‘you’re a part of this mess, we’re in this together whether you like it or not’ will really fuck me up

*Evan isn’t as giggly in some of my AUs. i like playing around with his GTA or Gmod-roleplaying personality so he can get pretty closed-off depending on the au. most of the time when he’s in this character, David will be the lighthearted and cheeky one to balance it out c:

*i love to treat David well but i also love to wreck him so cynical!David or insecure!David are some of my fav angst hcs cuz both’ll make him very very frustrated lol

*following the last point, David’s usually the one to fall in love first, but he’s also the one to doubt their relationship- so he’s hesitant of commitment and he’ll say stupid shit just to see if Evan will stay with him despite his flaws. 

*lowkey hero/villain au: the way bad-guy-David taunts good-guy-Evan with “little owl” or “little bird” or “plucking/ruffling yer feathers” is like, h o l y shit yes. (And don’t tell me you cant imagine Evan yelling “YOU’RE GOING DOWN” xD)

*for one of my soulmate aus, they’re not soulmates. they’re just two people who fell in love and decided to stay together despite the fact that they’re not “meant to be” cuz they feel like their relationship is valid, even if it doesn’t match up to society’s expectations. another one is that they are soulmates, but despite knowing that they’re supposed to be the perfect complement to each other, their personalities are incompatible as fuck and honestly it’s a mess of misunderstandings hahaha.

*that nsfw hc mentioned previously does not apply to most of my AUs by the way- ngl there’s a lot of sexual tension in my AUs ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Aye that pree much sums up my main headcanons (ﾉ*ﾟｰﾟ)ﾉ 

ive got a few more headcanons for cop au but that’ll come out another day on another post xD also i have a lot of hcs for other aus that ive never fully developed, perhaps ill post those someday as well lol

also sorry for the wait, i hope ye enjoyed despite this being late (::)

holy shit im so obsessed with these two i spent 4 hours typing+editing this fuck

[almostwishing]

Get To Know Me Tag!

Alright so I have 3 of these tagging things backed up from the last little while. So there will be 3 separate posts!

Ive been tagged in these sort of things before and never gotten around to them, so while these are late, at least I got them done! Ill queue them to spread them out but here’s the first of the three!

 I was tagged by @thefuckingfantasy (thank you lovely) and here we go!

Gender: Female

Star Sign: Taurus

Height: 5 ft 7in / 170cm

Sexual Orientation: Het

Hogwarts House: Slytherin ooh boy

Favourite Colour: Dark Red probably (was just talking with friends on the weekend about what colours we associate with each other and I got a resounding “Red” particularly bc of the colour of my go to jacket. so I guess that’s accurate)

Favourite Animal: blegh idk I used to love frogs and still have various frog themed paraphernalia scattered around my room

Average hours of sleep: ok, on a uni day or a day I have anything planned, probs 6 hours bc im terrible at going to sleep in any sort of timely fashion. But if I am able to wake up any time the next day, I get a good 9.

Cat or dog person: dog person by FAR.

Favourite fictional characters: I cant go past Marty McFly, forever the original keeper of my heart (and by extension, also Alex P Keaton bc mjf), then also Usnavi & Sonny (theyre an inseparable pair ok and both just as precious) and who can go past Barry Allen and Finn Hudson.

Number of blankets I sleep with: A sheet and doona, in ALL weather

Favourite singer/band: look, for the last year the only music I listen to has been broadway cast recordings so can I just say Lin-Manuel Miranda? (but then also there’s still of course McFly even though they barely count as a band since they haven’t released an album SINCE 2010 FFS)

Dream trip: ive been lucky enough to have traveled to a few of my dream locations already, but never to America, so definitely New York!

Dream job: I mean, something in the theatre would be insanely awesome but that’s never gonna happen, so the one im actually working towards, paediatric audiologist.

When was this blog made: January 2013

Number of followers: 486

What made you decide to create this blog: a friend had one? And id been going through tumblr without an account to find I think glee and celtic thunder stuff (major throwback) already anyway, so I eventually just made one haha

alright so I have 3 of these being posted in a row and I don’t want to drown people in these, so I’ll spread my tagging amongst the three! For this one I tag: @straight-as-a-curly-fry and my darling @frankiegoesaway if they would like too, and anyone else who is keen to fill this out!