#but my brain automatically added 'it's god isn't it?“

[mangio-formaggio]

Did you ever just like...

Lenny saw Midge's speech that night and not only empathize with deep topics she talked about, but also fully understood how much he hurt her with rejection of help and empathy. How much she hates that it always either a woman or a comic, either sincere care or acknowledgment by the world. How he of all people, should understand her desire to be more than a gimmick. More than one thing.

And then in Blue Room, he finally have guts to act on his feelings, because she more important than his pride, his desperate clutching to fullness of life, his cool careless rascal persona. More important than all unspoken rules they had before to keep the safe distance. She is more important than God aka anything that usually helps you and grounds you. Cause at this moment their connection is what grounds him, calms his demons and makes him feel like a man, not a gimmick.

And then we have Fleabag and The Priest.

Yeah. For The Priest it's God. Cause sleeping with her not make him calm or grounded or humbled. It strips him down to all messy things inside, all little intrusive thoughts, all the worst instincts. All ugly and raw and full of hunger for life.

But it's not what he wants for himself, it's not what's best for him and what can make him happy in a long run. God is more important than a woman.

Lenny looked at Midge and saw the world full of wonders in a single moment in time. The Priest looked at Fleabag and saw that everything will pass.

[sungbeam]

𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐑𝐎𝐑𝐒 — teaser

nonidol!ji changmin x f!reader

your sister's dead, but apparently that's not the most shocking news. maybe she wasn't killed on accident, maybe ji changmin isn't really human, and maybe the monsters were never under the bed but all around you...

▷ genre, teaser warnings. strangers 2 reluctant friends/allies 2 lovers, slow burn, demon/supernatural creature au, forced proximity trope, murder mystery, suspense; mention of a weapon, one allusion to god (im not religious and this fic does not elaborate on religion), mention of food, mention of blood

▷ est. wc. 30-40k (isn't that range funny 💀)

▷ projected release date. sometime in november? as long as i like it lol FIND IT HERE

▷ comment/send an ask to be added to the taglist! those on my permanent taglist will automatically be tagged.

TEASER BELOW THE CUT (APPROX. 300 WORDS)

The thought had you waving a fry at him. "The switchblade," you began, drawing his attention and pancake-stuffed cheeks, "what was it? It definitely wasn't something human-made."

Changmin swallowed his bite. "It was an angel blade."

"You're kidding," you drawled in disbelief.

He challenged your stare. "Believe it or not, it was. Forged up there." He lifted the prongs of his fork up toward the ceiling, shaking his bangs out of his eyes.

Your jaw dropped. "So the Big Man Upstairs does exist?"

"I mean, I don't really know. I've never met him if he does. I just know the angels are ruled by the Seraphim," he told you. "Lots of hierarchical bullshit I didn't care to pay attention to."

He impaled another piece of pancake. "Angel blades are one of the few things that can kill a creature like that."

"A demon?" You asked.

"Yes. Lower level demons are easier to kill, especially with a blade like the one I gave you." He shoved the bite into his cheek to continue, "That's why I was able to take on multiple at once."

You made a noise of indignation. "So you're telling me you're a higher level demon?"

His shoulders fell in a half-hearted shrug.

"Helpful," you muttered as you washed your meal down with bittersweet coffee. You paused for a moment, cleaning your fingers off with a napkin. "The… the licking thing."

Changmin's eyes could not meet yours. "Mhm."

"Do you… do you do that often?"

"No," he said curtly. "That party trick only works on humans and I don't really enjoy the taste of blood."

You pursed your lips at his rather clipped response. "Oh." You recalled the sound he'd made as he cleaned your blood up with his tongue at the motel… maybe it was something out of disgust. You suddenly felt out of place, like you had made his shoulders tense up and the air crackle. You racked your brain. "I—thanks, by the way."

With a cough, he murmured, "Welcome. Couldn't have you dying on me."

You nursed your coffee cup, reaching up to absentmindedly fondle the pendant under your shirt. "Yeah."

a/n: this is currently my pride and joy, pls do not tear it apart </3 i thought this genre would be a nice challenge, but instead, it became something like a passion project ksnfksnf

tbz m.list

permanent taglist: @flwoie @vatterie @seomisaho @hqrana @ja4hyvn @tinkerbell460 @kaaimins @hyunjaespresent-deobi @otterly-fey @zzoguri @floatingpluto @winterchimez @ethereal-engene @gyulfriend @polarisjisung @jaehunnyy @shakalakaboomboo @loveliestfelix @bless-311 @zhaixiaowen @leaz-kpop-life @amourdsr @pxppxrminty @kqyutie @sseastar-main @kxthleen14 @fluorescentloves @mosviqu @justalildumpling @jaerisdiction @super-btstrash-posts @jundundun @http-gyu @mvvnsseul @outrologist @vernonburger @maessseongs @ericlvr @kflixnet

[coffee---bean]

workn on the music and stuff

hello! been working on the score for the film. its made from feedback sounds (made by pressing electric guitar leads with my fingers) and then adding drums. the drums were recorded on my phone very loosely, just about trying to slowly increase the intensity of the score by drumming faster and faster over time. i panned one drum to one side and another to the other side, so hopefully it'll feel disorienting and immersive in something that doesn't actually exist!

then i added "jisas yu holem hand blong mi", which is probably my favourite little song. like, my automatic answer type of thing. not my favourite right now but a good answer for my favourite.

it's kind of religious, i just like chanting and clapping and i don't know what the words mean but the notes are pretty. i used a beat delay thing to distort it and make it sound like a broken brain or something. i also got a low-pitched version of it and put it underneath the entire thing, just to kind of fill the piece out and add some bassier tones to it, since the feedback sounds are higher-pitched and sporadic in the first half.

then i added a little bit of singing to give the audio a more human quality, the sense that there's a person hidden deep inside this fucked-up-ness. it's very quiet, but there is a completely unaffected voice somewhere in the right channel, singing softly.

i also added some super reverby piano organ chords. the chords are in the key of the above song, the organ was chosen cos it's sort of religion-y, and the chords were performed so that they get thicker and more dissonant and random as the score continues. it's inspired by "fittier happier" by radiohead, which is obviously 100 times better than mine, but they spent like 3 years making OK Computer so umm fuck u

i remember my friend showing me this video when i was like 13. he was like, this is so deep. and he was totally right but its funny to me cos he would totally hate radiohead now. he doesn't like rock music at all and radiohead is way too mainstream for him. just one of those weird things. why did he love THIS radiohead song out of all the radiohead songs. he's a really cool weirdo.

and then i sang a little melody over the chords, but i added a ridiculous amount of reverb and made it a little quieter and added another layer of the same performance but an octave higher, and panned them on different sides, and then made them slightly out of sync, and now the voice sounds like a weird beautiful synth. the tone of the first half is a lot more earnestly emotional. like, actually fucking me up kind of emotional. the music really does something to me now, which is great because so far this piece has felt a bit emotionally dead to me.

the tone of the music is kind of similar to this kind of thing:

david lynch often has like,, stupid and beautiful moments in his movies. there's so much unexplainable and horrifying darkness in his movies, and then sometimes there's just these equally absurd breaks in the clouds and it's really glorious and wonderful. and the music he uses is often very churchy or gospelly or very very suspended chords turning into some gigantic resolution / cadence thing. and the tone is always lifting organ energy and raw crying with happiness.

also the music from a movie like drive or really any recent nicolas winding refn thing. only god forgives also has music like this, but i guess drive has the most tender energy out of his films. this music is from a scene that goes from extremely beautiful love to extremely fucked violence almost instantly, which isn't exactly what my film is, but it's not totally off! the contrast is just a bit less exaggerated, and the transition is less sudden.

anyway the music feels mostly done. i've added it to the half-finished film and exported it, so i'll test how it sounds in the speaker-box system. i've texted someone about buying a crappy monitor, so hopefully that'll be done soon.

the last two things to do are:

figure out the monitor

animate and add in the gifs

yippee! it's gonna be tight but i think it's possible. i also think its possible it wont work. i have a kind of solution for if i cant get the monitor to work. the animation gif things are important, but i have time to do them, it'll be ok.

[atsunflower]

Rated: SFW

Author notes: fucking finally, I'd say. Sorry it took me so long to post it after I decided to revamp this series. Here goes my belated 300 special med student!Kuroo. Please note that this is written based on the med school model we have here, in wich we get the MD degree right away, without the pre-med division they have in USA.

PS: DAI¹ stands for diffuse axonal injury, a type of brain damage caused by violent shakes (acceleration/deceleration/shaken baby syndrome) of the head. No worries, banging your head against a hard surface isn't supposed to give you it. If you get confused by any medical terms, pls hmu!!

Warnings: me trying to be funny. Cursing (reader swears like a sailor here).

I – Lehninger principles of biochemistry

Previous || Next

Your head was throbbing. The professor's voice dragging through your ears made the discomfort you felt even bigger.

The first class of the day have barely started and you were already regretting leaving your bed.

You let out a shuddering breath while your fingers found their way to your temples. You massaged the area, trying to ease the headache.

"You look like shit" the voice came from your right. Shirabu gave you a sideways glance before going back to his notes. "Let me guess, your neighbor again?"

"Yeah, the bastard was up all the night. I still can hear his bed pounding into the wall and the girl trying to muffle her voice" You groaned.

"Ew. Gross" The blonde's face contorted in a grimace "Am I the only one weirded by the fact you never saw the guy?" He asked frowning.

"Hell, no. But I don't think I wanna meet him anytime soon." Your reply was earn; you wouldn't know how to react if you ever saw the said man. "Besides, the guy has this strange schedule. He leaves early in the morning and comes back late at night, it's kinda weird"

"Weird is the way you know him so well and never saw him before" You ignored your him and turned your attention back to the professor. Twenty minutes into the lecture, the door was open and a raven hair peaked from it, sitting on the desk available in the front row.

You mood automatically got worse just by the sight.

"You're staring" Shirabu's uninterested voice ringed in your ears again "Why don't you admit you have a thing for him already? It would make our lives a thousand times easier"

"I just dislike him. I can't stand that dumbass" You retorted grimacing while scribbling down in your notebook. God, you hated biochemistry.

"Yeah, keep repeating that and someday you'll believe it."

"Why you all keep saying it?" You winced at the high pitch of your whisper "The guy ain't special. He is an asshole, honestly"

"Deep down you only say it because he told you were 'just okay' in our first week of freshmen year" The male gave you a pointed look. "I know it's you just being petty, but it's pretty obvious you have a crush on him"

"Hell no, I'd rather have the whole Lehninger shoved down my throat" Your classmate scoffed by your side, resuming to his notes.

"By the looks Haruno-sensei is sending in our direction, it's going to happen anytime soon."

"For this term, you'll send me an essay about peptides with especial focus on physiologically active ones and their major role on human organism." The professor said, sending a stern glare though the class. "Pay attention to the next slide. It contains a table with the pairs I've assigned for this paper"

What the hecking heck?

Your mind went blank but you still heard Shirabu snickering by your peripheral. For such a stoic man, he was pretty out of character today. That little shit.

"Beware the addressed pairs won't be changed in any circumstances. Don't even bother to try" The woman said as she addressed the whole class a cold glare. Goddammit med school and its goddam professors. "You now can discuss this paper. Remember this essay is worth half the grade"

"Fuck" you cursed as your forehead banged onto the thick textbook.

"Whoa, be careful" The teasing voice made you painfully groan "We don't want this pretty brain of yours getting a DAI¹ before we start this paper"

"It's too early in the morning to deal with you, Kuroo" Your retorted came muffled as you pressed your face even flatter into the book. 

"It's too early in the morning for you be ranting about everything but you don't hear me complaining, kitten" He jabbed at you, laughing it off as mere teasing "Is it fine if we start the paper on this weekend? I gotta volley practice the whole week."

"Sure. Wanna meet up on the public library?" You asked gathering your things, as you turned to Shirabu and saw him cocking an eyebrow at you.

"Fine by me" The male scratched the back of his neck, giving you an awkward glance "Actually, I wanted to ask you phone number" You stiffened "Aw [Surname]-chan, C'mon! You know it's easier."

"But what for? You already have my institutional email"

"You're too formal for your own good, woman" He handed you his phone, nudging the device into your palms "Where do you think this strict act is going to take you?"

You rolled your eyes at him again.

"Actually, Kuroo-san" You made a pause, voicing the words with candour "I want chaos and world domination. But in order to do it, I need to overthrow the dean first" You said while punching the numbers onto the chapped screen of his phone. The ravenette snorted at your reply.

"Oh shit, you're so weird!" And he left out a hyena laugh.

"Way to impress a girl, huh" 

"Only the ones I'm trynna woo" The male smirked when he saw your dumbfounded face.

"Huh? Big words coming from a nerd" You brushed off his provocation. You knew he didn't mean it, but you couldn't prevent your heart to skip a beat.

"Oi, [Name]! What do you mean?"

Surprisingly, the week went smoothly. No Kuroo incidents nor professors bitching over the struggling students.

It was saturday and you were more than ready to spend a whole day inside the library with the ravenette.

Sarcasm? Check.

It wasn't like you hated him. If you were to be honest, it was the other way around — but you would never give Shirabu the taste of being right.

Kuroo just had a special way of getting under your skin. He knew what buttons to push and how to make feel flustered.

You were indeed whipped for him in your first year, but he was an asshole back then — It was kinda comprehensible though: being new to the infamous uni life, freshmen were always seeking acceptance from other people.

Kouhai trying to impress their senpai.

Jocks trying to make a number on the female population.

You trying to grab the attention of that hot guy from welcome ceremony — yes, the one who ended to be the bane of your campus existence.

Yada yada.

But when Kuroo turned you down — without you confessing first, you may add —, your pride was incredibly hurt. You then declared war. Best way to rile up a med student? Make your grades better than theirs.

But of fucking course Kuroo wasn't your regular med student. The competition only provoked meaningless banter — and it annoyed you even more because you couldn't get into his nerves the same way he did to you.

"Oi, [Surname]! You good there?"

"Yeah, yeah, get back to the damn peptides" You definitely despised biochemistry.

You rummaged through the books sprawled over the desk, searching for your Lehninger copy.

"Where the fuck that huge ass book went to?" You murmured, getting ready to go check on your backpack.

Glancing towards your classmate's direction, you spotted it under one of the textbooks he was using, but before you could reach for it, you felt hands gingerly wrapping around your chin, making your eyes lock into his stare.

"What are you doing?" You knew the warmth in your cheeks wasn't being provided by his body temperature.

"Conducting an experiment" He said as you melted under his attentive stare.

"Huh?"

"You know, they say exchanging looks causes an increase on Oxytocin synthesis in hypothalamus" The male smirked when a vein popped on your head, your brain recalled that science paper about the physiology on human and dog interactions. You wanted chaos and world domination — but in order to make it, you had to kill Kuroo first.

"Are you fucking calling me a dog?" You squinted at him, ready to fight. He laughed as your slapped his hands off of your face.

"Oh, come on, it was just a joke. You know the hormone of love doesn't work this way." His hyena laugh made presence as the bibliothecary gave you two a dejected stare.

Just a joke, huh?

For a med student, Kuroo Tetsuro would make a shitty doctor if he didn't know how bad his smile was for your heart.

General taglist: @ohmythatmiya @imomomi @neonghxst @differentballooncollection @raenebalgaire

Taglist is open. Send an ask if you want to be added.

[liron-ao3]

But of course.

Dean runs a hand over his face, completely exhausted. He's so tired. It's nothing unusual. He never sleeps enough. But this again?

Damn it!

Where is the angel!? It's a question he has asked a thousand times, never getting an answer. Just once and then he had found him, pulled him against his chest, smiled from ear to ear, huffed in relief as he felt Castiel's rigid body in his embrace.

He had managed to ignore that Cass didn't hug back. He didn't want to think about what it meant. He didn't want to question his own motives, either. Sure, Castiel was his friend. Dean is a loyal person. But more than once, Benny had asked him, "Why?" If the angel was really worth the hassle. He had never found an answer other than a disgruntled, "Yeah."

Dean pushes up from the empty bed, pulls a shirt over his bare chest and pitter-patters barefooted over the bunker's cold floor. He'd like to call for his boyfriend, but that would wake Sammy and with him likely Eileen. She's seven months pregnant and struggles enough to get sleep with her restless legs and heartburn.

It's the fifth night in a row that Dean woke up to an empty bed. The former angel suffers from insomnia that even tops Dean's worst phases. Every night, Dean prays that his love might find rest in his arms. He's not sure who he is praying to. Jack? Maybe. Anyway, his son isn't listening. Hand's off.

Dean shuffles through the common places where Castiel usually tries to kill time - the kitchen, the library, the main room. Once, he even found him in the storage room where the Empty had taken him, standing at the exact spot where he had smiled while Dean's heart shattered into pieces. But he hadn't smiled then.

He hasn't smiled a lot since he's back. Not even when Dean had told him that he loved him, too. Not when they first kissed. Not when they first made love. He assured him that he wanted it, wanted him. And Dean decided to believe him. It would become better with time, he hoped.

To each of the few smiles that Castiel mustered, there is melancholy. No. This word isn't strong enough. There's something as heavy a lead pressing the former angel down, tinting every good emotion grey.

Dean hates it, can't shake the feeling that it's his fault. He thought he did the right thing, fighting him out of the Empty. But all he had gotten were tired eyes and a "You shouldn't have done that."

It had made Castiel so happy when he told Dean that he loved him that it was enough to summon the Empty. But now that he has him, nothing really seems to pierce the veil of darkness. It's so much worse than the worrisome, honey-collecting version of Cass all those years back. At least, he had smiled then.

It's superficial and stupid to wish for this, Dean knows that. It was just another way for Castiel to cope. He always carries all the world's burdens on his shoulder, especially Dean's crap. But it's not fair!

Dean never expected an apple pie life. Not really. But with Cass, he had hoped for a slim slice of it. At this point, he'd be thankful for a crumb.

He scolds himself inwardly for this train of thought. He's ungrateful. He falls asleep with his man snuggled against him every night. He looks in blue eyes when they make love. He holds his hand when they watch a movie. It's so much. More than he ever dared to dreamt of.

Dean's steps grow wider and faster as he nears his Cave. Maybe—yes! There are flickering lights under the door and subdued music coming from the room. Dean takes a deep breath before he pushes the door handle down.

Castiel sits in the armchair that is labelled his boyfriend's in Dean's head. He looks at the tv screen, his eyes fixed on a bumblebee collecting nectar.

Dean chuckles softly, calling attention to himself, hoping not to startle Castiel. He doesn't. His partner doesn't even so much as flinches.

"Bumblebees are funny. By all rules of aerodynamics, they shouldn't be able to fly," Dean says, hoping to pull his boyfriend's gaze to himself.

"That's not true Dean. Humans were just too fixated on their formulas for aeroplanes to see the dynamics behind the wingbeats, the vortex they produce, not to mention the joint I added to make it possible for them to kink the wings and heighten the weight they can move even further.

Dean sinks into his armchair. "You worked on creating them?" Castiel hums in affirmation. "Why are you watching a documentation then? You know them better than anyone."

Castiel is silent for a long moment and Dean wonders if he somehow insulted him. But then, there's a sound that he hasn't heard way too long and it makes his heart clench.

A chuckle.

Not as free and loud as he knows it can be, but it's there, echoing in the sparsely decorated room.

"It reminds me that my existence had meaning."

The short burst of hope crumbles to dust at these words. Dean fights against the tears brimming his eyes. Castiel saved the world, more than once, and especially with his self-sacrifice. They wouldn’t have defeated Chuck without him!

"Your life has meaning," Dean says, his voice carefully schooled. Castiel chuckles again, bit tjis time without mirth.

"I know."

It feels rehearsed, like an automatic reply to soothe Dean's nerves. No. This won't do! Dean gets up and down on his knee in front of the man he loves. He cups his cheeks with both hands, relishing that Castiel leans into the touch.

"You are important. To me, to Sam and Eileen, to Claire and Kaia, and so many more. We need you, man."

"You'd be well off with or without me," Castiel answers evenly and Dean covers the pain with anger, lets it build up in the very familiar way. He clenches his jaw and lets go of this boyfriend's face, gets up, turns, and kicks a pile of DVDs through the room.

Then he turns back, outstretched pointer hovering mere centimetres from Castiel's face.

"You have no idea!" The force of Dean's words makes Cass pull back - not in fear but in gut-wrenching surprise. "I burnt you on that pyre, spread your ashes in the meadow. I got you back just to let Chuck let us screw over once again. I'm not proud to say this, but with you gone, I thought of flipping the bird to this shit of a life and go down in a damn vampire nest or something."

"Your life is not shit!" Castiel counters, always willing to make Dean feel and think better of himself. Hell, he did it even when he thought he would die for good.

"Yes, you're right. But still—" Dean runs a hand through his hair. His brain isn't awake enough for the depth of discussion they need to have and neither is Castiel's judging by the looks of his lover's red-rimmed eyes. He takes a deep breath. "You are my home, Cass. My rock. I don't say this to make you stay or to make you put on a brave face. I appreciate that you're not acting as if everything is fine. But we need to talk about what's going on in your mind. What makes you so sad all the time. I can't—"

Castiel looks at him with unhidden fear. Hell! The man fought demons and angels, God himself. He shouldn't look like that because of a hunter who feels so many things that he can never properly put them into words.

"I can't ignore it any longer. You need help. Hell, we all need therapy. But, damn it, Cass! I want us to be happy. I want you to be happy. And don't tell me you are. You're a terrible liar."

There is another chuckle and Dean wants to cry. Because it's all too much and not enough. He can't make his boyfriend better and that sucks big time. He's a doer, a carer, a damn Acts of Service love languager. He's shitty at gifts that his man understands, he's bad with words when it counts. But he can touch, is allowed to touch now. So he does.

He pulls Cass into his arms, feels him melt against him. He brushes his hand through the unruly mop of hair. "Come to bed. Sleep. Tomorrow, we'll take care of this, okay?"

He feels Castiel's head nod against his shoulder. He presses a kiss into his hair and pulls back, scrutinising him for a long moment. There is the ghost of a tired smile on his lips. Dean counts it as a win.

He switches off the tv and leads him to their bedroom, tucks him in before he slides under the covers, and pulls him close. "I am here. And I am happy that you are here. Never doubt that," Dean murmurs. "You're the best thing ever happening to me."

"But I'm broken, Dean. I can't be of any use to you, now that I lost the rest of my grace."

Dean huffs his anger out through his nose. "If you're broken, we'll find a way to fix you. And the other bullshit—don't you dare think that's what we kept you around for. You're family. Like a brother to Sammy, a father for Claire, the man I love. Don't get pissed, but your love has always been your strongest asset. You saved me from me a million times. Hell, just think of Jack." He takes a deep breath because his anger won't solve anything. "You are love and you are loved. You don't need to be useful and still, you are. Every. Single. Second."

Castiel looks at him with glassy eyes. "I want to believe you."

Dean presses a kiss on his forehead. "I know." He brushes a strand of hair out of Castiel's eyes. "Just promise me you'll try."

"I will," Cass whispers and then he smiles. Tired, but enough to form crinkles around his eyes. And it's just a start. Dean knows that. But it's enough for now.

"Sweet dreams, honey," Dean whispers and cradles Cass' head to his neck. "I'll watch over you."

[raewritesfiction]

Camera Shy [Chris Evans]

A/N: spurred from an anon ask. Let's see where this goes.

Plot: You've accidentally sent your good friend Chris (Evans) a nude… you weren't expecting the response you got.

Pairing: Reader X Chris Evans.

Warnings: Smut. Strong Language. 

[[ Lemme know if you wanna be added or removed from tags; no questions asked ♥️ likes are amazing however I really appreciate Reblogs to help spread my writing further! Thank you 🌈😘]]

Tag List: @jaseminedenise @nikkitasevoli @ohh-la-la-leto @iraniq @snewsome756 @vikki-rogue @amelia-in-w0nderland @pandaliciouz @crispyimagines17 @esoltis280 @marie-is-blogging @bonniebird @itsmeauntie @nutinanutshell @opalowlsposts @louise-buchan @chris-butt @thegetawaywriter @xmagnet-o @hollyjolly6211 @sambale13 @squeackygee @blowdandelion @peachyrogerss @browneyes9125 @suppu97 @denisemarieangelina

---

You practically bit your fist as you realised that you'd sent the wrong picture.  A light hearted jokey conversation entirely made from memes but instead you had caught and double-tapped the wrong fucking picture; you'd sent Chris a recent nude you'd taken when you were feeling yourself. You'd tried to delete it before he had opened it but the fucker had automatically opened it; or had his phone open on the conversation. 

You stopped yourself from throwing your phone across the room and instead decided to bite your pillow and scream in frustration. How the fuck were you going to play it off? 

Why was your phone buzzing like it was ringing? Tentatively looking over you yelp because Chris was now facetiming you. You just sit and watch your phone as it stops ringing only for it to immediately start again. After the fifth time around you realise this persistent shit wasn't going to stop or let this go; he wasn't going to let you crawl into a hole until he had forgotten it had ever happened and you could look him in his gorgeous eyes again.

You grumble and sit your phone face up on your knee as you answer it, no way was he gonna see you right now; a fire engine red mess in a hoodie that wasn't nearly big enough to cover your face Kenny McCormick-style. 

"Nah nah, none of that ceiling bullshit...lemme see your face!" 

"Fuck no, Christopher!" You chide him only to watch him crack up on screen and pull a face as he said sorry to someone. "Where are you?" 

"Show me ya face and I'll tell you." He licks his lips and smiles. 

You grumble but you never could say no to his smile; you pick up the phone and point the camera at your face. "Well…?"

"I am driving.." he explains.

"That still doesn't tell me where you are, Chris." Your voice flat as he chuckles at your faux-anger facial expressions.

"I'm in my car." He states and shrugs.

"No Shit!" You face-palm and sigh.

"Well, telling you would be no fun!" He smiles and winks to the camera. 

You frown and fail miserably at figuring out his game and what the hell he was up to; nothing from your view of him gave away anything of where he was - other than in his car.  There wasn't much waiting involved to find out though when he honked his horn outside your house. 

"Oh god no!" You squeak. "I'm not letting you in Evans!" You fold your arms defiantly.

"Ah, that's fine...I thought about matching your picture with one of me… but uh, I'd prefer to show you in person. So much more fun."

Your mouth opens to speak but your brain stops and fails to help you form any words; you end up mimicking a fish as you try to speak.

"Besides...I still have the emergency key to your place and I remember very well that your dead bolt isn't fixed yet." He giggles and hangs up just before you scream into the pillow again; Maybe if you piled enough furniture in front of your door?  While part of your brain is frantically trying to find a way to hide you away the other realises fully what he'd just said and you rush to change into something a little more figure hugging. You silently thank everything that could be listening that you'd showered and shaved earlier while dragging a brush through your hair and grabbing lip balm. 

Standing in your bathroom you turn to leave before stepping back in and repeating this funny little dance step half a dozen more times.  You jump and stop a yelp when Chris knocks on your bathroom door. 

"Ma'am...Imma have to ask you to come out please." He can't hide the chuckle from his voice and he definitely can't hide it when you open the door and fold your arms. 

"You a cop now?" Raising your eyebrow.

"Well...no… I guess a handyman?" He holds up a deadbolt. 

You open your mouth to speak but think better of it and head out into the living space. 

"You're overthinking this far too much." Chris smiles and follows you.

"Can we forget this happened? Please?!" You stop yourself pouting.

"Nah… besides, if you wanted to forget this happened… why did you change, do your hair and throw on some simple makeup?"

"Sonovabitch!" You whisper angrily.

"....and is that perfume I smell?" He teases lightly.

You grumble and nod "the one you got me last year for my birthday."

He smiles and offers his hand "C'mere….c'mon…" he motions for you to take his head, gripping yours lightly when you do and pulling up against himself. Chris wraps your arms around his waist and then wraps his arms around you. "First of all; it's fine… Second; dayum! Thirdly; I meant what I said in the car...unless you just wanna hang and forget all about this…"

You relax and sigh "if I wanted to just hang then I wouldn't have dolled myself up…I wanna see you naked and then I want you to bend me over the sofa and fuck me senseless…"

Chris blinks and nods "to the point...I like it… besides there's more of you I wanna see that the nude didn't show me."

You giggle "...I have some of those too…" 

"Oh, I shall need those too… Mmhmm.." he nods and kisses your head.

"So how we doing this…? We gonna play strip poker or are you just gonna strip for me?" Secretly you hoped for the latter and inwardly grinned when he suggested it.

"I have a playlist...I can go all Magic Mike for you if you like? Can't promise it won't be a bit janky…"

You laugh and nod "Deal...I wanna see you dance and strip!" Pulling away to clear a space for him. 

Chris proceeds to awkwardly dance; gyrating his hips and making sure to shake his ass for you as he loses the layers of clothing.  Both of you laugh as he kicks off his bottoms and poses for you.

"Well then…. That was quite the show." You smile and let your eyes wander "I'll still need a picture though… for… reasons...it's only fair."

"I agree...I can sort that for you." Chris walks towards you and kneels down, his hands on your knees.

"Now what's your plan…?" You smile and lick your lips, hoping you looked seductive. 

"Well…" he starts, hands gliding up your thighs to your hips and then the waistband of your bottoms. "I'm going to pull these down and off…" to iterate what he's saying, Chris pulls them down your legs "they look great on you but… they look better on the floor." Throwing them to the carpet. "Oh…no underwear?"

"Nope...no panty line if I don't wear them." You wink. 

"Very true." He nods and parts your legs, his eyes never leaving yours; they made you hot & flustered and embarrassed all at the same time.  His eyes still didn't leave your face even as he pulled you to the edge of the sofa and leant forwards running his tongue over you.   

Your hands danced in mid-air before resting on the edge of the sofa cushion you were slipping off of.  Chris hums against you and proceeds to suck over your folds; his tongue running along them and tasting you fully.  You feel yourself slipping off the cushion further but instead of holding you in place Chris goes with it and eases you to sit on his face.  

This wasn't your first rodeo but for some reason it surprised you when Chris held you to him and laid back on the floor until you were straddling his face.  He moaned quietly and looked up to watch you rocking your hips on him; his tongue probing into you then heading back to your clit. You gasp and pant lightly, moving your hips on his face and leaning back to wrap a hand around his semi-hard cock.  Chris glides his hands up your back to support you and moans louder against your core as your hand makes contact with him and moves slowly.

His hips move to your hand as he pulls away from you to pant and moan; your free hand reaches down and threads into his hair gripping and moving his face back to your pussy.  Chris growls against you and sucks your clit in pulses, rocking and thrust his hips up to your hand the best he could from the angle he was at. 

You pant and moan his name; the way his lips suck and pulse over your clit quickly pulls you over the edge without warning and you're soon rapidly calling his name as you cum over his face. He growls against and laps over you slowly, lifting you to sit on the sofa again while he grabs the condom he had hidden away in his jacket.

Chris watches you and steps back over rolling the condom down over himself as your eyes open to watch his hands. 

"You still want me to bend you over the sofa?" He smirks and leans down, kissing you deeply so you could taste yourself on him. 

"You can...do whatever you want to me.." you look up at him.

He pulls at the strap top you were still wearing and throws it to join the pile of the clothes on the floor; the bra you were wearing barely held you in and Chris smirks to himself knowing how easy it was going to be to make you literally burst out of it.

"Whatever I want?" He grins and you nod, swallowing thickly as he rests his knees on the edge of the sofa between your legs and pulling you up onto his lap, guiding his cock into you slowly until you're wrapping your legs around his hips to pull yourself onto him.

You whine and drop your head to the top of the sofa back as he immediately starts thrusting his hips into you; pushing his cock deeper than you thought you'd ever be able to take and stimulating parts of you that you didn't realise did anything.  Once you both fall into the steady rhythm groaning each others names, Chris moves your legs from their position locked just above his ass to sit up over his shoulders, his hands grip the sofa cushion either side of your head and he speeds up. His hips barely pull out of you before they're grinding deep into you again; your hands reach beside your head and intertwine with his, gripping on every thrust and jerk of his hips.  

Chris's pants become rough and turn to grunts; dropping his head he kisses your ankle and scrapes his teeth "I'm...I'm so fucking close.."  You nod quickly and whine "Same...Chris, please! Don't Stop!" You moan and rock your hips the best you could, watching his eyes close tight as his thrusts lose their rhythm and become desperate.  You want to watch his face; his blue eyes, his flushed lips and his perfectly angled slack jaw but it was all too much and you found your own eyes closing tightly as his cock relentlessly pounded into you; hitting every angle & driving you crazy until you scream out his name and tighten around his cock.  Chris calls out only a moment later and stills deep inside you, pulsing as he cums - the rhythm of your pussy tightening matching his cock. 

Slowly you both relax down onto the sofa in some semblance of a comfortable position; still intertwined with each other and kissing whatever bare skin was reachable from your positions. Chris strokes your hair back and helps you out of your now twisted and uncomfortable bra as you curl into his arms that fold around you protectively.

"Does this mean I get nudes on purpose now?" Chris smiles and speaks softly.

"...I guess so…" you nod and peck his lips "...and you still need to fix my dead-bolt…." 

---fin--- 

[border-spam]

Leech Lord: Allies

Troy

Gar is about as native as a Pandoran can get, and has for years had a very soft spot for the bratty King.

He's old colonist, thinks his parents might have been with Atlas on one of the many failed corporate town setups that plagued Pandora 30-ish years ago. He was too young to remember who's banner they flew under when his family stepped out of the shuttle and onto the dust planes they’d been instructed to settle, just that things went wrong fast and anyone still alive 18 months later had needed to adapt quickly to what constitutes living on this planet.

He was drawn to the Holy City for the same reasons as most survivalists, it was an opportunity for safety and a roof over your head. Not needing to fight to eat or scrabble to stay alive is a blessing for most Pandorans, and he's one of the thousands who live within the walls who don't quite worship the twins as Gods, but praise them as holy... because the twins gave them a chance to have a home. Wether they are deities or not isn't a factor in the loyalty they've’ earned.

He's skilled with food. Knows how to spice spoiled flesh to hide the rot, pickle cactus root and delicate rock blossoms for long storage, or how long rakk wing needs to be slow roasted to turn from gamey string to meat that melts in the mouth.

Like most in the HC, he ended up where his skills have value and has ran the kitchens in the Grand Cathedral since its founding bricks were set.

It didn't take very long for him to find Troy in it one night - picking through ingredients and half finished dishes in the early AM.

While he'd expected to need to drop to his knees and grovel, the God King had seemed more embarrassed than anything, awkwardly explaining he hadn't eaten that day and asking if there was anything left from the after sermon banquet. 

His eager politeness had hit Gar hard, but his reaction to finding out the leftovers had been destroyed was what left a lasting impression.

Gar had thought the twins affluent spoiled little shits who'd hit things lucky on Pandora and been clever enough to know how to use their wealth to culture worship, so when Troy was genuinely upset to the point of disgust that food had been wasted like that? It changed his perception immediately.

This wasn't the reaction of some egotistical little shitbag from a wealthy background, this was the visceral panic and anger of someone who'd starved before, who understood the insult of food being destroyed when there were so many hungry... when he'd known hunger.

It took less than 24 hours for the kitchen policies to be changed and Gar's team to find out nothing was to be wasted. Uneaten and unused stock was to be transported at end of day to the Slums from now on, where it would "Bolster the flesh of the faithful."

Every time he finds Troy hunting through his kitchen at 4 am over the years, their chats grow a little longer.

By late COV, Gar's meals delivered to his sanctum are some of the only things God King Calypso still trusts enough to eat.

Tyreen

Xanshi Ur-Vendit is obsessed with the God Queen.

As her Saint of Marketing, he's got both her ear and a position of high authority within the organisation that he covets viciously, and takes great personal offense towards newer Saints he doesn't deem worthy of the title.

His pedigree speaks for itself, the man had quite a reputation on Promethea among the media departments of the high corporations. An expertly trained and cut-throat money maker that was the exact kind of egotistical, nasty piece of work that would be drawn to the God Queen's side.

Has direct tie in's with the esteemed Katagawa family, something he's used to his benefit throughout his career.

He fawns over her, she can do no wrong around him, and he spends as many hours of the day as he can trailing behind her heels like a lapdog, reaffirming her beauty and intelligence and infallibility with every breath he can manage between the underhanded threats he aims towards anyone possibly about to draw her attention away from him.

Hates Troy. Fucking hates him.

Too much of a hole-sucking little coward in his $60k three piece suit to actually do anything about it of course, but he takes plenty of his vitriol out on Troy's departments instead.

Marketing has such massive reach within the internal structure of the COV that he's able to throw his weight around far more than some of her other Saints, and regardless of if they actually like him, they tend to back Xan and his opinions automatically.

A huge amount of the conflict between departments and heads is driven by this imagined competitiveness, that Troy's people, Troy's chosen, must in some way be inferior to Tyreen's.

Xan is her right hand in his own mind, he's her holy knight. If she holds too much misplaced love for her brother to see how pathetic he is in comparison to her radiance, then it's up to Xan to keep Troy's people in place...

In reality? Tyreen isn't even invested in him enough to remember Xanshi's full name.

Seifa

Sei makes friends in low places far easier than higher ones, always has. People at the bottom of the ladder, folks who have struggled? They recognise each other. Doesn't matter where on the scales they currently stand, there's an unspoken nod, a side glance. You see your own - even if who you are has been lucky enough to change over time.

While she's never been in one place long enough to set up a friend network before that was tangible and not based on e-comms and data feeds, she's woven one since settling in the HC without really even noticing it was happening.

One-hand Jim in the King's Call, that high end rave bar near the cathedral grounds. Not so gruff now he's not drowning in debt, few more smiles while he's mixing cocktails.

Cleo in munitions stocks, breathing a bit easier since her son landed that underling role in the Mechanica, more food on the table with less worry.

Feliz and Irgo running deals in the western slum backstreets. Not competing against the HammerClaws for territory anymore since JK "got wind" of the shit they were cutting their gear with and had Vanguard waiting at their quarters for a polite discussion about unspoken laws. What Fe and Iggy are selling isn't exactly high quality but at least it won't rot your brain inside the skull.

Sei will tell you she's a lone wolf. She'll insist she’s a one woman show, runs shit on her own and doesn’t need others.

But watch closely when out with her in the city, check how often she buys a drink, how often it's not on an invisible tab the barstaff nod knowingly about as they hand her glass over with a smirk.

She's never asked to pay.

That should tell you plenty.

Seifa and Tyreen

- Early COV

"Ty, you ever wish you were born a guy?"

Of all the things Tyreen had expected to hear from Sei tonight, that... wasn’t it. She stopped reading the same piece of nonsensical math in the sheet she was holding to gawk at Seifa instead, staring at the other woman’s back as she continued to work on the data records they'd been passing between them all evening.

"No.. god. What, and look like Troy?" she snorted with a wince. "Nooooo thanks" Ty sighed as she leaned back and heard her stiff spine pop, waiting for a response that didn't come. She felt a pang of concern as Sei's shoulders sank a little lower in front of her, deflating.

This wasn’t normal, where was the bitchy retort, or joining in on insulting her brother? She shuffled together the files and stood, walking to her friend's side and sitting slowly next to her in the quiet of the twin's shared office. Sei still hadn’t responded, pretending to be completely absorbed by the notes she stared at. Ty cleared her throat with a cough.

"Uhhh.. why?"

Seifa silently reached to her side to take the offered files from Ty as she sat, pointedly not making eye contact, though the younger woman picked up on the redness in them easily enough.

"Sei, I need to have someone's hands cut off?" 

Ty pouted, hitting her mark as Seifa failed to completely hide a smirk in response.

"I need to have someone thrown into a pit? Huh? C'mon Sei, talk to me. You always tell me I need to talk more about things that me down, right?" she weedled, hands clasped over her heart as she faux whined, earning a quiet laugh from her companion.

"Oh god Tyreen SURE, if you'll shutup." Sei groaned, leaning back in her chair and running hands over her eyes. She was tired. Beyond tired, really. Always said she knew how to not outstay her welcome but had been wondering recently if that had ever been true. Day to day in the cult, managing people she’d never meet and holding the weight of more responsibility than she’d ever wanted was eating at her. Had been for some time. Nights like this helped, shooting shit with Tyreen, bitching, sometimes gently bullying Troy together if he’d decided to grace them with his janky presence, but still.. it was heavy, and Seifa was tired. 

"Ahh.. just the usual shit" she whispered, thumbing through the papers as Tyreen leaned a little closer, as much of a comforting presence as she could muster all things considered. An arm around the shoulder or gentle stroke of hair wasn’t an option. All Ty had was words and honestly, they weren’t exactly her forte.

“It's just like. Sometimes when I'm talking, and it's about something they think I shouldn't know shit about, like how Burgess is spending too much of your budget on expensive, low grade gear-assemblies when if we went off brand I can prove it would be better, they just zone out."

"It's like.. if they thought I had a cock, if I was 6'4, they'd be listening. " she added, eyes burning again.

She groaned, leaning over the table and resting her cheek across her folded arms.

"I got so angry. I'm used to dealing with it, it's always happened, but I just boiled over. This week has been.. long, I guess." she whispered, pinching the bridge of her nose as Tyreen watched quietly. "I ate into him in front of like, 6 other people Ty, couple of heads were there. That doesn't help my reputation does it.. that's just making shit worse. I'm sabotaging myself. They think I'm a bitch already without me starting a fight and stirring the pot."

Tyreen shifted in her seat, eyes thoughtful as she rested her chin in her hands, elbow propped on the table edge.

"Nah. "

"Just sounds like they're dumb. I keep telling Troy we need people with actual brains leading this shit Sei, if you're getting ignored cause you have tits? Haha. Wait till they meet me in person. " she grinned, a genuine act peeking through her usual haughty persona as Seifa chuckled.

"I mean my rack is way bigger than yours, you're flat as a fuckin' plank in comparison."

Asks are Open!

[something-like-air]

itachi karin: things you said under the stars and in the grass

IM SO SORRY I DONT KNOW WHY THIS PROMPT TURNED OUT THIS WAY

heads up for a little nsfw content past here. 

Two bodies were tangled together, the moon and stars their only light. A series of hot, quick kisses trailed up one of their throats, a pair of legs wrapping around the other’s waist. “God I want you so bad,” one of them whispered, a breathy promise in the other’s ear; a hand skimming over a bony hip, a thumb brushing over bruised lips. “I’ve been waiting so long for this.”

On the very opposite end of the backyard, Itachi grimaced and unsuccessfully tried to distract himself by picking wet grass off of his shoes as Sasuke and his boyfriend had, erm, alone time.

It was, in a way, not unlike the sleepovers he and Shisui had when they were both teenagers, long nights where Shisui would insist on watching cheap horror movies and Itachi would try his best to avoid them. No matter how distasteful he actually thought the movies were, though, he would find his gaze inevitably caught by some brutal decapitation or painfully drawn out display of sadism.

Something in his mind seemed to be drawn to images that would only haunt him.

On the other side of the lawn, Naruto ran his fingers through Sasuke’s hair and gave it a rough tug, baring Sasuke’s throat to him.

“God, I feel like I need a cigarette every time those two are together.” Itachi startled, looking over to see Karin, one of Naruto and Sasuke’s friends, had joined him in the grass. He hadn’t noticed her walking over, hadn’t even heard the back door open.

She took a long sip of her beer and cringed. “It’s like watching softcore porn but not even half as fun.”

Sasuke let out a harsh gasp that was abruptly cut off by Naruto, who had pulled Sasuke down for another kiss, their teeth audibly clacking together. Karin gagged, hopefully low enough that they would not hear her. “I’m not even close to being drunk enough for this shit.”

Itachi did not know Karin very well, but he certainly did not mind her company at a time like this. She was, after all, something he could look at that was not his little brother.

Karin nudged him with her knee, giving him a quick once over. “So, uh, why are you sitting out here?”

Itachi gave her a casual shrug. “I’m looking after Sasuke.”

“I think you’re taking that a little too literally,” she deadpanned, and he mentally kicked himself for speaking so carelessly. That had been a rather unfortunate way to frame things.

“I would prefer to not be in there,” he explained, nodding towards the glass doors of the house behind them. Through it, he could see a hazy mess of strobe lights and glow sticks and bodies pressed together. When they had arrived at this party an hour ago, the house had been loud and filled with cigarette smoke and Itachi had made a quick beeline for the backdoor and found the backyard much more comforting.

At least, it had been until Naruto and Sasuke had joined him, though he was fairly certain they hadn’t noticed him. He was risking a fair amount of his sanity in assuming they had not known he was there.

“What, you didn’t come here to get drunk and have public makeouts like the rest of us?” Karin asked, interrupting his thoughts with a facetious grin.

Itachi shook his head. “This isn't… I prefer much quieter places.”

“I don’t blame you. You’re what, in your second year of law school? You must be having a blast partying with undergrads.”

“It isn’t ideal but I feel much better knowing Sasuke has someone to drive him home. I find things typically go much better when someone responsible is watching over them.” Recalling her earlier comment, he added, “But not literally.”

Karin saluted him with her beer before taking another generous sip. “What a fucking mood. I get sick of being the only person in this crowd with a working brain.”

He may have been, perhaps, been a little too blunt in eyeing her choice of beverage because Karin stuck her tongue out at him. “This is my first drink, cut me some slack.” Her head turned by mere inches towards the other side of the lawn, and her face screwed up as if she’d tasted something sour. “How you aren’t a full-blown alcoholic by now I’ll never know.”

“They aren’t quite as bad as you make them out to be.”

Karin shook her head. “That’s your brother, dude. Naruto is my cousin and I’m even like, oh god, please let me be adopted. They always do shit like this; I don’t get how two people can be so chaotically horny.”

As hyperbolic as her statement had been, Itachi couldn’t help but let out a quick laugh.

Karin smirked and nudged him again with her knee. “You’re pretty chill, you know. I more or less grew up thinking of you as Sasuke’s scary older brother but you sure as hell are the better option right now.”

“Ah, well.” What was considered an appropriate response to such a comment? “Thank you very much.”

Karin let out a rather obnoxious snort and ran a hand through her hair, seeming to relax a little more. “We should hang out sometime. Like, somewhere other than here.” She tilted her beer towards him, both a challenge and invitation. “Word on the street is that I clean up pretty nice.”

“It’d be nice to be,” he started, and he couldn’t help but instinctively look towards Sasuke, why, Sasuke—and just as quickly he turned back to Karin. “Somewhere else.”

Karin shook her head, the moon shining back at him in her glasses. “I can at least promise that if I’m crawling into your lap there won’t be an audience.”

Without thinking, Itachi automatically responded, “I should hope so.”

“Oh?”

“I didn't…” and he could feel his face becoming uncomfortably warm. “Not… like that,” and Karin’s quirked eyebrow was downright mischievous.

“I’ll drink to it anyway,” Karin said as she drained the last of her beer, and for once Itachi found his eyes drawn to something that was, well, rather pleasant.