#but they are Adults and cooking is involved so count me in

[blmpff]

📢 Old Men Yaoi Alert - both actors are born in 1990!! and with that out of the way:

New bl based on Patrick's (My Ride, Mystique In The Mirror) novel is coming our way, it's called: LAST MEAL UNIVERSE THE SERIES

Shun(旬) was a galactic civil engineer with a unique assignment: demolishing Earth to make way for a new intergalactic expressway. Naturally, we had no clue about this impending doom. However, on his first day, Shun was captivated by the delectable homemade Thai dishes served by ChonDan, the owner of a quaint Thai restaurant.

When we think of superheroes, we often imagine beings with superpowers. But what if our world was saved by the simple flavors of Thai food and an ordinary guy?

more here, our main leads are: Gun Napan and Ritz Rueangritz

they previously acted together (guest roles) in After Sundown (2023) (ZeeNunew MLs)

coming soon~

[shipmansflannels]

the yellowjackets with a younger s/o...

hey, I'm back! it didn't take me long, right? it must be because I have too many things to write on this blog, finally (and I have relatively enough time to organize my ideas for now). so I thought, I made a headcannon of the young yellowjackets, but I might as well make the adult survivors, right? anyway, maybe this is also a sign to say that I will "moderately" write stories with the adult versions, too. who cheered? anyway, without further ado, let's go! thanks for the likes on the first post, I'm glad you liked it! enjoy! sorry for any grammatical or coherence errors, english is not my first language and I'm trying to improve!

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dating a younger person with the yellowjackets women...

shauna shipman.

okay, it's canonical that shauna would have no problem being in a relationship with someone younger.

I mean, even after adam, I think she would be willing to try.

it would be a lot easier in her mind, because dating someone younger means being able to reconnect with callie more easily too.

in shauna's mind, the two of you would be best friends based on your approximate age, regardless of how old you were.

now in terms of dating shauna, i think she would inevitably be an easy going person, to a certain extent.

overprotective as hell, of course, because she's lost so many people she loves over time (and it's become an incurable trauma in her life), that she can't bear to lose you.

she would also cook for you (rabbit meat inserted) all the time, especially if you felt like eating something special.

oh yes, the weekends would have to include callie with you, which is actually not a problem. at least not for you.

I feel like shauna hasn't been, since she was a teenager, someone who would be involved in loud parties or anything like that, so probably the perfect date for her would be watching a movie at home, wrapped in blankets with you, popcorn and soda and a solitude considerable enough for you to kiss, exchange affection and even make out (or have sex) without anyone to get in the way.

natalie scatorccio.

natalie, like shauna, would also have no problem dating someone younger.

since her life has always been full of risks and she was never very afraid of taking most of them, I honestly think that age never made much of a difference to her, at least not after middle age.

but to be honest, dating natalie comes with a combo of even bigger problems and risks that you wouldn't be able to deal with if you didn't love her so much.

I see natalie completely using her s/o as an outlet, or a shield. after rehab, you would be like a kind of warning for her to control herself.

not that it wouldn't also include (if you're a smoker) the two of you smoking in your spare time when you're bored.

natalie would be the kind of girlfriend you could have any conversation in the world with, sober or not. she probably has and gained enough empathy to listen to you and give you accurate advice on how to live your life.

making out a lot and having sex in unusual places also counts.

in my head, despite everything, natalie is the master of serving affection. spooning with her is the best whenever you need it.

she would do anything for you. everything really. anything.

she would be able to get into a fight for you. and risking her own life as well.

lottie matthews.

number one defender of the thesis: "age is just a number".

lottie is literally the personification of quality time and acts of service.

much because of her lonely life, her traumatic and confusing teenage years and the relationships she maintained with people over time, lottie would probably never want you to lack for anything, so any opportunity she has to be with you, she will be, even on her worst days.

arts and crafts dates with her when she is not taking care of camp green pine. you spend hours enjoying each other's company, and the whole world falls silent.

extremely overprotective of you too. just the thought of losing you because of her own insecurities leaves lottie haunted for weeks if she stops to think about it.

she is the ideal companion for anxiety and panic attacks.

she will most likely use the techniques she learned over time with you. if they work, that's another matter. (they always work because in the end it was never about lottie's gift, it was about her company).

a little submissive, a little dominant during sex. lottie is probably the typical "am I hurting you?" at the right time and even if you insist no, she will ask again just to be sure.

she's also the master spooner (I literally see you two fighting over who's going to be the big spoon every night).

taissa turner.

ok, public life has always been a problem for taissa.

but when she's with you, she's able to forget about it for a few minutes.

despite all this freedom, taissa never lets you go out unaccompanied (without a bodyguard) or lets you read the headlines or see the commercials about her first, for fear of any criticism about your age difference.

but more than anything, it's you she turns to when the stress finally gets to her on the worst days.

I see her making any effort for you, and I see her trying to keep a fine line between you and her old life too.

this includes your relationship with sammy, which, in fact, has always been the best possible, and her friendly relationship with simone as well. taissa knows that she cannot take her son out of her ex-wife's life and, even so, she makes a point of including you in family programs with him.

she will literally spend it all on you. anything you ask for, even with a high amount of money, she will buy.

it's probably a way of apologizing about her sleepwalking and her traumas making her even remotely distant from you for some time.

like I said, you're the one she looks for when crises end up attacking her mental health. she won't sleep if you're not safe in bed with her and she makes a point of being snuggled in her arms so she doesn't have any sleepwalking attacks in the middle of the night.

dates with her are always in fancy places, but taissa doesn't care about them that much.

anniversaries, yes, she always takes you to dinner at a fancy restaurant.

but, on her days off, she would easily choose to just spend time with you watching a stupid series or a cliché movie while you sleep cuddling in the middle of it.

sex always, sex anywhere, sex on any occasion. you will never miss this, you can be sure.

van palmer.

this nerdy woman deserves the world and a significant other who doesn't know half of her references.

you two are a match made in heaven, for sure.

van wouldn't waste time trying to get you to watch all the movies that were popular in her time. and she would use your ability to tinker with technology for the video store whenever necessary.

this woman is literally the embodiment of girlfriend material.

quality time, acts of service, words of affirmation, she has mastered every love language in existence, you bet.

van will always cook for you. there are rare nights when she lets you make dinner or even order any junk food.

she would also stop whatever she was doing so she could cuddle with you whenever you needed her.

dates with van are always at the cinema, or at an amusement park, or, when she is a little less in debt, at a tourist spot around the world that you would mention that you want to see.

she has good enough memory to remember them all.

the sex is always good, always affectionate, and every now and then, when she's not tired, you'd try a quickie in the bedroom for just a little while, until you feel satisfied.

hopeless romantic until the end of time.

misty quigley.

a walking red flag, misty would probably treat a relationship with someone younger as if it were a great adventure.

well, if you like crazy women, misty is your ideal partner.

she has a bit of a misconception about taking care of you and keeping you safe, so every now and then she'll make a point of checking your calendar and trying to monitor meetings with people in your circle, just to make sure there's no problem.

but this is also a good thing because, if there is a specific date or specific problem, she will remember it and make everyone special, in her own way.

anyway, but she's a good girlfriend too, aside from the weirdness. she has everything under control, she is attentive to you and makes a point of making your day better if it is bad.

dates with her don't need much. If it's in a cafe relaxing and talking about her day, if it's watching crime series or chatting with her about citizen detectives, she'll be happy.

sex is also good, to be honest. I see misty as the roleplay girl, so if she's in the mood to roleplay with you, you can be sure she'll do it. from weirdest to sexiest, it also depends on her day.

she achieved the feat of making a young person like a bird and want to have a bird at home. she is, at the moment, the only one of them to be able to do this masterfully.

[suzukiblu]

Day twenty-nine of fic NaNoWriMo, obligatory sugar daddy Tim/sugar baby Kon AU.

Kon disassembles his sand castle back into the original pattern without looking, Tim experiences multiple internal crisises, and someone passes by with a tray of hors d'oeuvres. Tim, in self-defense, grabs a couple of the little crostini things on said tray and offers one to Kon, who looks pleased about it. 

“I dunno, does this count as a party?” Kon asks, glancing around with a little grin before popping his hors d'oeuvre into his mouth. Tim does the same, then remembers this means that now he knows what Kon’s mouth tastes like again. Dammit. 

Kon’s mouth currently tastes like ricotta and roasted grape, which isn’t even necessarily a taste that especially appeals to Tim, aside from the part where it’s how Kon’s mouth currently tastes. Why do people even roast grapes? Why is that even a thing? 

Why does Kon look so attractive in slightly smudged eyeliner he put on for him and clothes he bought him? Like–Kon always looks attractive, it’s an incredibly unfortunate curse on the world, reflexively checking out his ass in spandex literally did get Tim thrown off a roof once, but this attractive? This is several new layers of “attractive” and Kon is wearing all of them like a second skin. A very tight and fitted and well-tailored second skin, to be specific. One with cutouts and short-shorts involved. 

This metaphor may be getting away from him. 

“Technically I think so, though maybe not the usual kind,” Tim says. “I mean, it’s sort of a party, it’s just mostly an event. Maybe they want donations or something, I don’t know. Museums usually do.” 

He assumes that’s what the ticket money went to, or at least a fair chunk of it. They were pretty expensive tickets, considering, but since it’s an adults-only special event that isn't obviously themed in either a rogue-baiting or rogue-planned way he hadn't really questioned it. Getting overcharged by a probably-underfunded art museum isn't exactly enough to trot out his inner Bat or inner future supervillain for. 

Well, as long as nobody on staff annoys or insults Kon, anyway. Because in that case he will be financially destroying this place. Like, obviously. It's a little early to be planning his supervillain calling cards, but “you know what you did” is an increasingly tempting option. 

Anyway, that's just a contingency plan. Totally unnecessary as long as Kon has a good time. 

“What’s over there?” Kon asks, peering towards another station. Tim wonders why he’s asking, since he assumes he can feel it, though in retrospect “feeling” whatever it is doesn’t necessarily explain the purpose or point of whatever it is. 

“No idea,” Tim says. “Why, does it feel interesting?” 

“Um.” Kon . . . hesitates, then glances back to him, looking oddly–embarrassed, almost? Weird, Tim thinks, repressing a frown. “It’s, uh . . . kinda, I guess. I dunno. Wanna check it out?” 

“Sure,” Tim says, peering towards it. It looks like a series of boxes with holes in them all stacked on top of each other, though he can’t see what’s actually inside them–there’s curtains or something built into them. He’s not really sure what the whole setup’s supposed to be, honestly, but if Kon’s interested . . . 

They head over, and it turns out the whole setup is basically the same theory as those haunted houses where they make you stick your hand in a box full of peeled grapes and cooked spaghetti and tell you they’re eyeballs and brains, although Tim is hoping peeled grapes and cooked spaghetti won’t actually be involved. 

“So there’s literally zero surprises here for you, I’m guessing,” Tim says wryly. Kon looks sheepish. 

“We can go do something else,” he says. 

“I mean, I’ll be surprised,” Tim points out. “So up to you if you’re interested or not.” 

“Okay, point, I guess,” Kon says, laughing a little and rubbing his arm self-consciously. “I dunno.” 

“Tell me which one to try?” Tim suggests, smiling at him. Kon laughs again, ducking his head to hide a grin. That continues to not be as effective as he probably wants it to be, given their height difference, but Tim has no intention of pointing that out. He doesn’t want to make Kon more self-conscious, and also it’s fucking adorable. 

Bastard. 

“You sure about that?” Kon says, his grin turning sly as he glances back towards him. “You don’t know what’s in there, babe.” 

“I’m willing to live a little dangerously,” Tim replies with an easy shrug. Kon laughs again. 

“Okay, but don’t say I didn’t warn you,” he teases.

Tim quickly regrets letting Kon pick which boxes he should stick his hands in via trying said boxes, but also Kon just looks so fucking cute laughing at the different faces he makes for every one, so it’s hard to actually get annoyed about it. Also, Kon admittedly did warn him. 

Although he might’ve rather put up with the peeled grapes and cooked spaghetti, honestly.

Seriously. Those are some textures, ugh.

[coochiequeens]

Update on a crime the news media refuses to call femicide

TINLEY PARK, Ill. (CBS) -- A father has been charged with first-degree murder in the shooting death of his three daughters and wife inside a home in Tinley Park on Sunday.

Maher Kassem, 63, was charged Tuesday with four counts of first-degree murder, according to the Cook County State's Attorney's Office. At his initial court appearance, prosecutors an argument led to Kassem using two guns to first shoot his wife and then, after stepping over her body, his three daughters. 

Maher KassemTINLEY PARK POLICE

The victims were identified as Majeda Kassem, 53; twins Halema Kassem, 25, and Hanan Kassem, 24; and Zahia Kassem, 25. 

Officials said Kassem shot his wife, Majeda, seven times, and each daughter was shot twice. The Kassems' 19-year-old son was in the home but was not physically injured. The women's bodies were found in the basement. 

Authorities also said Kassem was cooperative with police and admitted to the shooting. Kassem indicated the fight started over the family's finances. 

Prosecutors said the shooting took place after an argument on Sunday morning between the father and one of his daughters. That prompted his wife and two other daughters to get involved and urge him to calm down.

CBS 2 first reported Monday that there was a witness to the crime. That witness was identified in court as Maher Kassem's 19-year-old son.

Amid all the yelling, the son – who was sleeping at the time – woke up and went to see what was going on. He would later hear gunshots and first found his mother and two of his sisters fatally shot. He walked in moments before his father shot the third daughter.

Police said the father never turned the gun toward his son.

Left: Halema Kassem, Right: Zahia and HalemaPHOTOS SUPPLIED TO CBS

Around 11:20 a.m. Sunday, police responded to a report of the shooting in the 7400 block of West 173rd Street.

Village Manager Pat Carr said a male - who police later said was Kassem - made a 911 call saying someone was shot in the residence, and and police found his wife and four daughters dead at the scene. Police recovered two guns at the scene.

When police asked Kassem where his family was, prosecutors said, "the defendant pointed in the direction of the basement. The officer asked the defendant who else was there, and the defendant stated, 'They're gone.'"

Prosecutors said Kassem appeared to be disgruntled over how he was treated at home.

"The defendant was recorded volunteering things about having just retired, and that 'She treats me like a [expletive] dog," said Cook County Assistant State's Attorney Scott Clark. "'I worked 40 years.' and 'I worked all my life to give my family a better home and they treat me like [expletive].'"

Police said there had been no record of police interaction at the home.  

Meanwhile, hundreds of mourners gathered at the Mosque Foundation in Bridgeview for a prayer in honor of the four women who were killed in what police called a senseless act of domestic violence, something they hope is addressed more in the community.

"It's about not only mental illness, but control and abuse so it's something that it's important," said Fida Zoubeidi, who attended the prayer service. "We need to keep our eyes open."

Funeral services for the women were held Tuesday night. Mourners gathered one by one for a vigil – hours after the mother and three adult sisters were buried.

Hanan Kassem had recently graduated from St. Xavier University with a master's degree in speech therapy.

"I would say that she lit up a room - you know, like you could talk to her about anything," said classmate Corinna Olsen.

Olsen wishes she could talk to her friend one more time. Instead, she and so many are puzzled with the circumstances of the quadruple murder.

"Very, very shocking," said Olsen. "You know, expect this to happen to someone that you know."

Off camera, the nephew of Maher Kassem said the family is torn – shocked at the crime his uncle is accused of committing against a family for which he seemed to care so deeply. 

The nephew added that the family does not know the man who prosecutors are portraying as having committed such a crime. He said prior to Sunday, his uncle really would have done anything for his family members.

Kassem will be due back in court on Feb. 16.

I'm going to take a guess that once he retired he expected to be waited upon like the "man of the house". Instead he was asked to pick up after himself. And instead of accepting that he's s grown man he complained about being treated like a dog. Just based on how a lot of couples divorce after one of them, usually the man, retires and becomes a pest around the house.

[daisynik7]

On Pins and Needles

Pairing: Mitsuya x Original Female Character

Rating: Mature

Word Count: ~4.1k

Summary: You babysit Luna and Mana for the first time. Mitsuya catches up with Draken before attending a short, but tumultuous Toman meeting at Musashi Shrine.

Author's Note: Please enjoy chapter 2 of this series! Likes, comments, and/or reblogs are always appreciated. Would love to hear what you think about this so far! You can also read this on my ao3.

Previous Chapter | Masterlist | Next Chapter

“You cooked spaghetti? From scratch?” Mitsuya hovers over the hot pan on the stove, covered to keep warm. “Are you sure it’s edible?”

Draken punches him playfully in the arm, smirking. “Shut up, asshole. I didn’t invite you for dinner just to talk shit.”

He nudges his friend in the ribs. “I just never thought I’d see you all domesticated and shit. It’s creeping me out.”

“Do you want to eat or not?” he huffs, shoving a clean plate towards him.

Draken and Mitsuya have known each other since they were kids, friends bounded forever by their matching dragon tattoos. It wouldn’t seem like it, considering how attached to the hip he is with Mikey, but Draken remains the most loyal to Mitsuya, and vice versa. To see his friend like this, cooking regular dinners in a normal apartment with his long-term girlfriend is a dream he’s been wishing for since the night they shared that meal together at his unusual home. Draken has never lived an ordinary life; orphaned, raised by sex workers in a brothel, destined to be a delinquent from the start. Out of everyone, he’s the most deserving of simplicity, of stability. And it seems at last, he’s found it. 

Mitsuya twirls his fork around the heaping pile of pasta, sticking the huge bite into his mouth. Surprised, he blurts out, “Oh shit, it’s actually good.”

Draken kicks him in the shin from across the table, grunting. “Of course it’s fucking good, did you think I’d serve you shitty spaghetti?”

Laughing, Mitsuya swallows the rest of his food, sipping on his glass of water. “When did you learn to cook? It hasn’t been that long since I was here last, right?” He usually comes over to hang out with Draken and Emma at least once a month, whenever his mom isn’t working the night shift. Their meals always involve ordering take-out or delivery, and the kitchen remains untouched unless they’re reheating leftovers. So, the sudden switch to homemade meals is a pleasant surprise. 

“I started about three weeks ago,” Draken answers, chewing on a meatball. 

“Why?”

He doesn’t respond right away, properly finishing his bite, staring down at his plate. Then, he announces, “Emma’s pregnant.”

Mitsuya’s eyes widen, and a piece of food drops from his mouth. “Holy shit,” is all he manages to utter.

Draken finally looks up, grinning, eyes glowing with joy. “I know.”

They both get up from their seats to embrace, Mitsuya patting him hard on the back, repeating, “Holy shit!” a little more excited this time. 

“It’s fucking nuts, man. When she showed me the test, I lost it. Who knew that pee on a stick would make a grown man cry?” There are tears in his eyes now, shaking his head at his friend, still in disbelief. “The next day, I decided that we need to start saving money, which means no more eating out. So, I learned how to cook. And I guess I’m pretty good at it.”

For the third time, Mitsuya mutters, “Holy shit,” unable to stop grinning. 

“I can’t wait for Emma to get home from work so she can show you the picture. She specifically told me not to show you until she’s here, so you’re going to have to wait.” The two boys sit down to return to their meal, enjoying their pasta with bigger smiles on their faces. 

“She’s working? Doesn’t she get maternity leave or something?” 

“Idiot, they don’t give maternity leave till the third trimester. She’s only eleven weeks pregnant right now.”

Mitsuya nods silently, stuffing his mouth with another bite. It’s at this point that he is reminded how young he is, ignorant to adult matters such as this. Draken’s always seemed much older than his age, forced to grow up too fast. Both he and Emma opted out of high school. Draken started working as a mechanic for a local car shop as soon as he turned sixteen while Emma climbed her way through retail jobs until she landed a receptionist role at a dentist’s office down the street. And although they don’t make the most money, they are steady. Solid. Most important, they’re happy. “Can’t believe Ken Ryuguji is going to be a father,” Mitsuya says quietly, more to himself than the soon-to-be dad in front of him. 

“It’s crazy, isn’t it?”

He gazes at his friend. “It’s actually the least crazy thing I’ve heard. You’re going to be a great dad, Draken.”

He chuckles, blushing. “Come on, man. Don’t say such sappy shit.” He smiles, focusing on the plate of food in front of him, clearly elated. 

It's exciting news, of course, and Mitsuya is beyond thrilled about it. He can’t help being nervous for his friends, though, especially since Draken is still very much affiliated with Toman. Don’t get him wrong, he would die for Toman. He would kill for Toman. Is it a good idea to welcome a new baby into this type of world? Expose them to crime, violence, unwavering and sometimes dangerous loyalty? He wouldn’t change his life for anything; that doesn’t mean he’s blind to the flaws and obstacles involved in it. 

Halfway through their meal, Emma arrives, excited to see him. “Taka!” she greets happily, dropping her bag on the floor. He glances at her belly, searching for any signs of a baby in there; he considers re-taking sex ed based on how oblivious he is about this. She flicks his head, laughing. “I take it that Draken already told you the news. And no, I’m not showing yet.”

He scratches the nape of his neck, embarrassed. “Ha, I know. I was just…checking.”

The parents-to-be cackle, amused at how dense he is for someone who is already legally an adult. They poke fun at him even harder when Emma reveals the sonogram, and he can’t properly locate the fetus, exclaiming, “Why does it look like an alien?!”

Emma sits at the table with them, helping herself to a large plate of her boyfriend’s spaghetti, slurping on a big bite of noodles. Mitsuya asks, “So, how did Mikey react to the news?”

She wipes residual sauce off her lips with a napkin, answering, “Well, we haven’t told him yet.”

He glances at Emma, then at Draken, confused. “What? Why?”

Both of them focus on their plates, avoiding eye contact. “It’s not the right time yet.”

He doesn’t pester them further, noticing Emma’s now quiet disposition at the mention of her brother. It’s strange to think that they’re keeping something as important as this from Mikey, someone they practically worship, someone they love. What could be the reason? Reading the room, Mitsuya doesn’t mention anything involving Mikey the rest of dinner, instead catching them up on school, his sisters, and his most recent project, which is teaching his classmate Shimizu how to sew. They listen intently, happy to hear that he’s doing well, for the most part. Draken shows him a few of the recipes he’s tried so far, with Emma in the background raving about each one. As it approaches closer to nine, the two men leave on their motorbikes towards Musashi Shrine for the big Toman meeting. 

They ride beside each other, the night breeze surrounding them in an exhilarating rush of wind, cruising through the bustling streets of Shibuya. Mitsuya always feels nostalgia cruising next to his old friend, as if they’re still kids, acting tough and pretending to know what they’re getting themselves into. In reality, they had no clue what being in a gang entailed. At the time, it’s what gave them purpose; it gave them power. And being young and impressionable teenagers, that’s all they wanted: to be a part of something bigger and greater than themselves. 

“Hey, Mitsuya,” Draken yells over the sound of his engine. “About Mikey. I know it’s been a while since you’ve been to a captain’s meeting. So just a heads up: he’s been acting a little different recently.”

“What do you mean?” 

“He just doesn’t seem like himself. We haven’t seen him outside a Toman meeting in over a month. Emma’s tried to reach out to him, but he always says he’s too busy to hang out. We don’t have a clue what’s going on with him.” Their reaction from earlier makes sense in this context. Knowing Emma, she’d want to share the big news with her older brother in person, not through text or phone. 

Draken continues. “I’ve been so busy at the shop, so I haven’t had much free time myself. Still, I try to get through to Mikey, but he just doesn’t let me in. He’s even shutting out Takemitchy, and he loves that guy.”

Mitsuya is unsure how to respond. Being so preoccupied himself, he hasn’t been the best at keeping in touch with Mikey either. If his precious little sister can’t get through to him, who else can?

They arrive outside the shrine, parking their bikes at their usual spot, hidden from the public. Draken readjusts the braid on his head while Mitsuya fixes his helmet hair. “Do you think Mikey is okay, though?” It’s a silly question in retrospect, after hearing how withdrawn he’s being. To him, it’s all that matters; that his friend, who’s been through more shit than anyone else in a mere 18 years of living, is okay. 

With a serious expression on his face, Draken replies, “Is Mikey ever just okay?”

~~~

While you slice scallions at the countertop in the kitchen, Luna and Mana sit cross-legged around the dining table, concentrated on drawing in their notebooks. You glance over to them, asking, “What are you drawing now, girls?”

“Fruit!” Luna answers. “What’s your favorite fruit, Miss Shimizu? I can draw it.”

You stop cutting to face them, smiling. “I like apples. And you don’t have to call me Miss, Luna. You can just call me Hana.”

“Okay Hana! I’ll draw some apples.” Luna grabs the red, green, and yellow crayons from the box, sketching her next piece on a new page.

The other sister has her tongue out, brows knit tightly together, extremely focused on the piece of paper in front of her. “How about you, Mana?” you ask, kneeling beside her. “What are you drawing?” 

“An elephant,” she replies, expression relaxing a bit. 

“Wow! Look at its big, long trunk! And floppy ears! It’s really great,” you compliment, patting her on the head. 

She grins at you. “Thank you!”

Earlier, the three of you watched a few episodes of their favorite anime until you heard their stomachs rumbling, hungry for dinner. Mitsuya showed you the pantry with the instant ramen; you scoped the rest of the shelves, finding a can of Spam and some sesame seeds to elevate it. 

You return to the cutting board, finishing off the rest of the green onions you found in the fridge, checking on the eggs you’re boiling on the stove. You’re hoping to get them soft-boiled, which would be a perfect addition to the meal. The last ingredient you prepare is the Spam; you slice and chop half a can into bite sized pieces, sautéing it in a pan until it’s slightly grilled on all four sides, setting it aside on a plate covered in a paper towels to soak the remaining grease. 

From the corner of your eye, you catch Luna and Mana sniffing the air, eyes lighting up. Mana exclaims, “Smells yummy!” You smile to yourself, excited to see their delight, hoping that they like it. 

By the time it’s almost seven, you instruct the girls to clear the table, which they do diligently. When they return, their eyes sparkle at the bowl of ramen in front of them. 

“Wow!” they exclaim together, inhaling the aroma steaming from the soup. 

Even you can admit that you did a good job with this; the presentation is delectable with the perfectly soft-boiled egg yolk running into the broth, pieces of meat scattered generously, all topped with a flourish of green onions and sesame seeds. If it doesn’t taste good, at least it looks good. 

Thankfully, it’s a hit with the girls, who slurp their noodles cheerfully, adding their own commentary between bites. 

“The Spam is so yummy!”

“The soup is so tasty!”

“This egg is perfect!”

“It’s so delicious!”

You try not to let the praise get to your head, remembering that your two critics are little girls and not professionals; still, you feel warm and fuzzy inside, seeing their bright faces enjoying the dish your prepared for them. Sipping on a spoonful of broth, you ask casually, “What kind of food does your mom cook?”

After slurping on a long noodle, Luna responds, “Mom doesn’t really cook. She only knows how to make rice. And that doesn’t count because it’s in a rice cooker.” 

“Taka does all the cooking for us!” Mana chimes in, squishing a piece of Spam between her fingers before popping it into her mouth.

Your ears perk up at the mention of their older brother. Seriously, what can’t he do? “So what are your favorite meals that he makes?”

Mana replies, “He makes really good fried rice!”

“Oh, and chicken stir fry!” Luna adds. “He makes ramen sometimes when he’s in a hurry, but he doesn’t put all this yummy stuff like you do.”

“You should teach him how to make it like this!” the youngest suggests.

“I’m sure he doesn’t need me to teach him anything.” After all, he’s the one teaching you. What could he possibly learn from you that he doesn’t already know himself? There’s nothing special about you; you’reordinary. 

The three of you finish the rest of your meal, bellies full and nourished, ready to continue the night playing with their dolls and action figures. Each toy has a detailed backstory that you listen to with intrigue. Their Hello Kitty doll is in love with the Bumblebee Transformer; their romance ends tragically because the robot lives a double life as a car and the cat hates cars. Their creepily realistic baby doll is the child of Goku, who appears to have been played with too roughly over the years. They zoom around the world, which in this case is their living room, fighting giant Pikachu, who Mana portrays perfectly. 

Five different make-believe scenarios later, it’s already past nine. What time do children usually sleep anyways on a Friday night? Before you can suggest bedtime, Luna and Mana both surround you, peering up at you with irresistible puppy dog eyes. “Hana, can we please get some ice cream from Lawson’s? It’s just down the street.”

“Please Miss Hana!”

“It’ll be really quick!”

You smirk, unable to deny them when they’ve been so well-behaved all night. “Alright, but you have to stay with me the whole time, okay? No running off.”

“We promise!”

“We can hold hands!”

And that’s what you do, walking along the pathway towards the 24-hour convenience store, both girls at either side of you, cheering when they see the illuminated blue sign sparkling in the distance. Inside, they pick out their favorite frozen treat while you do the same, adding a few snacks you think they’d like for the next time you babysit. On the way back to their house, you stay huddled together, enjoying your ice cream in the peaceful late-night breeze.

~~~

Mitsuya and Draken sit on the steps, waiting for more of the captains and vice-captains to arrive before heading up. Takemitchy, Chifuyu, and Hakkai arrive together, greeting Mitsuya gleefully after not having seen him in a while. Eventually, Smiley and Mucho show up, and all together, they head up the stairs, passing through the swarm of men standing at attention. 

Mikey is already front and center, long overcoat hanging proudly over his shoulders. He towers over everyone else despite his small stature; it’s a skill that only Toman’s leader holds. When the other captains arrive, they stand before him, except for Draken, who takes his place beside Mikey. Mitsuya notices them talking to each other quietly, hands covering their mouths to prevent the others from reading their lips. Mikey gives him a subtle glare, turning away to avoid his gaze. What was said to instigate a reaction like that?

Draken’s voice booms loudly. “Alright, listen up! Mikey’s got something to say!”

Mikey steps forward, staring blankly at the crowd in front of him. “There’s a new gang that has emerged from Shinjuku: The Leviathans. I’m sure some of you have already heard about them. They are small, but they’re quickly growing in numbers each passing day. They’re promising new members freedom to do as they please, which means these thugs are picking fights with anyone that crosses their path. I’ve encountered a few already.”

The crowd starts buzzing, some sharing their own stories, others surprised at this recent development. When it gets too loud, Draken yells out, “Shut up!”

Quiet again, Mikey continues. “They’re amateurs when it comes to fighting, but they’re all unhinged and hungry for blood, which makes them dangerous.”

“Too dangerous for Toman? Yeah right!” someone yells. “Let them fight us. We always win!”

Draken repeats, more aggressively this time, “Shut up! Let Mikey talk!”

With a serious expression on his face, Mikey says, “That being said, maybe we need people like that in Toman. Men who are willing to die for our cause. So, we’ve devised a plan to infiltrate the Leviathans and absorb them into Toman.”

The bustle amongst the men grows louder. Someone asks, “How are we going to do that?”

Draken starts, but Mikey cuts him off instantly. “I’ve assigned Kisaki and Hanma to lead the charge.”

The vice-leader gapes at him, clearly shocked by this. Mitsuya reacts similarly, turning to Takemitchy beside him and whispering, “What?! Kisaki and Hanma?” He hasn’t forgotten the trouble those two have caused for Toman and his friends. Lies, deceit, lack of empathy, cruelty, this only scratches the surface of what those two have exhibited since they joined a few years ago. 

Takemitchy glances at him, also stunned. “What’s Mikey thinking?”

“I’m also appointing them to third and fourth division captains.”

This causes an uproar, even from Draken. “Mikey! When did we decide on this?!”

Without looking his way, Mikey states, “I decided it right now.”

Takemitchy runs up to him, pleading, “Mikey, don’t do this! We can’t trust them! Remember what they did during the fight with Taiju?”

Mikey kneels, staring him down in the face, dead in the eyes, gripping the collar on his shirt. “Are you questioning my memory Takemitchy? Do you think I’m stupid enough to forgot?”

He shakes his head. “No, no, no Mikey! I’m not saying that at all! I’m just…shocked you would trust them with something to important!”

“Who else should I trust to tame wild beasts but the wild beasts themselves?” he mutters, pushing his friend off, standing to address the gang. “My decision is final. If you don’t like it, feel free to leave Toman. Just remember: if you’re not with us, you’re against us. Dismissed.”

With that, Mikey, turns on his heel, not bothering to elaborate his announcement to anyone else despite their protests. Draken follows him, talking to him with no response, the two disappearing in the darkness. The rest of the men burst into chatter, many of them questioning Mikey’s decision, a few agreeing with him blindly. 

Mitsuya stands beside Takemitchy, placing his hand on his shoulder to comfort him, sighing. “Don’t worry. I’m sure there’s a reason for this. We just have to trust Mikey.”

Takemitchy turns to face him, tears in his eyes. “Has Draken told you?”

“About what?”

“How Mikey’s been lately?”

He shrugs. “He told me he’s been a little quiet. So what?”

He grabs Mitsuya’s shoulders, shaking him. “That’s an understatement! Mikey hasn’t talked to any of us! We have no idea what he’s doing. It’s like he’s not even here!”

“Takemitchy, calm down – ”

“He’s gone, Mitsuya. And I don’t know where to find him.” There’s desperation in his eyes, tears rolling down his cheeks, gripping tightly to his jacket. 

He didn’t realize how bad it’s gotten. No one told him that Mikey was behaving this way until recently. His regular life as a student sheltered him from this, so much that he neglected it, missing out on meetings and regular hangouts with his crew. He forgot what his major priorities are: aside from being Luna and Mana’s big brother, he’s a Tokyo Manji gang member for life. That’s what he signed up for five years ago. That’s what he committed his future to.

“Takemitchy, we’ll bring him back, okay? Mikey’s not gone. He’s just lost. We’ll bring him back,” he repeats, reassuring his buddy. “We’ll bring him back.”

~~~

After your little trip to the store for ice cream, you instruct the girls to brush their teeth and get ready for bed, which is met by disappointed groans. When you offer to watch one movie with them before they sleep, they’re frowns turn into smiles, hurrying to change into their pajamas so that the three of you can cuddle on the couch, surrounded by blankets, squished between the giant Pikachu and a few random plushies they collected from their bedroom. Halfway through the film, Luna’s eyes begin to drift closed, while Mana is already snoring to your other side. As gently as possible, you carry them one-by-one into their room, laying them carefully on their mattress. With both kids tucked comfortably beneath the covers, you shut the door quietly, heading to the couch to finish the rest of the movie on a lower volume. It’s past eleven when you hear keys jingling from outside and the front door creak open. 

You turn to see Mitsuya emerge from the darkness of the hallway. “Hey,” he greets in a hushed voice. “Sorry I’m a little late. I grabbed a bite with some of my friends before heading home.” He scans the room, smirking at all the stuffed animals chilling on the couch. “I’m assuming things went well, since it doesn’t look like a complete disaster in here.”

“Yeah. It was fun. Your sisters are really sweet. They even drew something to decorate the fridge.” You point out the artwork hung by magnets, one of the elephant Mana created, the other of the variety of apples by Luna. 

“That’s awesome,” he says, smiling. He glances at the stove, inspecting the pot on top of one of the burners. “What did you end up making for dinner?”

“Just some instant ramen. I added a few ingredients to make it fancy.”

“Wow. I’m impressed.” He uncovers the lid, smelling the leftover soup. “If I had known you had extras, I would have just eaten here instead.”

“There’s not that much left over. There’s half a can of Spam and an extra soft-boiled egg in the fridge in case you want to add that in for tomorrow.” You lean against the counter, watching him. 

“A soft-boiled egg? You really did make it fancy. The girls must have loved it.”

“Yeah, I think they did. They even said I should teach you how to make it.”

He chuckles, eyes twinkling at you. “Maybe you should. I’m always down to learn.”

There’s an odd flutter in your belly, unfamiliar and foreign. Doing your best to ignore it, you change gears quickly. “Anyways, I should probably head home before it gets too late.”

“I’ll take you. I can’t let you walk alone when it’s almost midnight.”

You wave him off. “I’ll be fine, I only live ten minutes away – ”

He interjects, slipping into his shoes. “I’m taking you. It’s the least I could do for making you watch the brats tonight.”

“You’re already teaching me how to sew, that’s more than enough.”

“So let me just take you home, then, okay? It’s really not a big deal.”

He’s being very persistent, and you don’t want to appear rude by repeatedly rejecting his offer. So, you relent, gathering your bag, following him out the door towards the motorbike. He passes you the same helmet from earlier, grinning. “I promise I’ll go slower this time,” he says, giving you a wink. The weird sensation in the pit of your stomach returns, only growing stronger as you slide your hands around his waist, reciting your address to him before he fires the engine, zooming out of the neighborhood. 

Five minutes later, you arrive outside your home, windswept and flustered, most importantly, in one piece. Hopping off the bike, you unbuckle the helmet, passing it to him. 

“Keep it,” he says, pushing it back towards you. 

You stare at him, bewildered. He laughs, explaining, “I don’t usually take anyone else on the bike, so you can keep it for now. Just remember to bring it on Fridays.”

Not wanting to question him further, you murmur, “Okay. Thank you.”

“I’ll see you at school.”

“Yeah. Have a good weekend.”

He waves, rolling his bike in the opposite direction and cruising away. 

With the helmet cradled in your hands, you head inside your house, greeting your parents before you run into your room, face hot with this unfamiliar sensation kindling in your chest.

[manicpixiedreamcrowley]

GOOD OMENS fic recs (#1)

-> fic info includes: title, link, author, rating, chapter count, word count, summary, and my notes

-> total of 28 fic recs (+2 accompanying podfics)

if any of the links are broken, please send me a message so i can fix them!

"sweet surprises" by euterpein | G, oneshot, 15.1k

Aziraphale, for reasons even she can't fathom, has volunteered to help out at the Halloween extravaganza being hosted at Adam's school. Things are going well until a certain red-haired solicitor and her son also get involved... Featuring unfortunate assumptions, secret plots, and an inordinate amount of pining.

notes: starting strong with ineffable wives human au ft. misunderstandings but with fluff instead of angst

"sweetest downfall" by restlesswanderings | G, oneshot, 9.9k

It hits Aziraphale out of the blue one day that if loving Crowley is a sin then it’s the only sin worth committing. or: some falls are gentle

notes: also ineffable wives romance with a bit of hurt crowley and protective aziraphale

"with her i would fly" by mickyrc | G, oneshot, 1.4k

Crowley curled up a little tighter, nuzzling her cheek into Aziraphale’s tummy and purring when her fingers dipped into the nook behind her ear. They’d been there for hours already, slowly working through a bottle of wine while Crowley slowly melted into her wife’s side. It's just a quiet night, cuddled together on the couch, and Aziraphale's found a poem that reminds her of Crowley.

notes: ineffable wives again but domestic fluff and cuddling

"fire in your heart (and your kitchen)" by waitingtobebroken | T+, 2/2, 7k

The most beautiful man that Crowley has ever seen is also the firefighter that keeps having to put out the fires in his kitchen. It just so happens that Crowley is awful at cooking.

notes: crowley starting kitchen fires for an excuse to talk to firefighter aziraphale

"the bicycle" by thelordoflamancha | G, oneshot, 1.8k

"Lily had heard the rumors about the penthouse flat in this particular building near Berkley Square in Mayfair. She had heard them talk about the mythical snake and the angry man that shouted at all hours of the day. She had seen the library staff consoling shaken door-to-door salespeople, petitioners, and volunteers sheltering in the library lobby after a run in with the owner. She knew the tales of the fearsome man with sharp teeth who would make mincemeat of even the bravest adult to cast their shadow upon his doorstep. Certainly, it was no place for a child. Even the kindly librarian had advised her away from this particular building in her fundraising quest." Or, Crowley helps Lily win the bicycle.

notes: another outsider pov fic but this time it's crowley encouraging corrupt marketing tactics in a kid

"a familiar bond" by chubbsthefish | T+, 20/20, 38.6k

There is a reason witches are warned not to summon demons. The sleepy town of Tadfield was supposed to be peaceful, a town full of witches practicing their craft without worry of outside persecution. At least it was until someone let a demon loose. But local bookshop owner and garden enthusiast Aziraphale doesn't really care about all that nonsense, not when he has just acquired a new friend and companion in the shape of a Familiar. Crowley just wanted to head back home. But that's getting harder to do now that he's gone and gotten attached to a certain witch, which is bad since he does not want the pure-hearted man to be corrupted by his mere presence.

notes: i can't really fawn over this without spoiling it so just go read it and report back to me

"something familiar" by joldiego | T+, oneshot, 2.5k

Aziraphale is laid out on the couch, seemingly asleep. This is not shocking. What is shocking, however, is the giant black snake coiled around him from head to toe. Anathema and Newt drop by the bookshop and make a startling discovery. Aziraphale and Crowley are just trying to have a lazy Saturday morning.

notes: outsider pov fic but through the perspective of anathema who can't exactly remember armageddon and thus doesn't know the bible lore around them

"mine" by joifuldreaming | T+, oneshot, 1.5k

Crowley is oblivious, Aziraphale is jealous.

notes: possessive aziraphale is something i didn't know i needed, but now that it has been brought to my attention, i can't get over it

"show me the sugar" by waitingtobebroken | T+, oneshot, 4.1k

When the new "couple" moves in the cottage down the road, it's apparent to everyone what their Arrangement is. Rachel, the owner of the pet shop they had just visited, is not so sure anymore. Who was supposed to be the sugar father again?

notes: i've read this one several times, i love it so much, i'm obsessed with outsider pov fics trying to understand what their deal is

PODFIC AVAILABLE

"find it in the dictionary under 'L'" by his_infinitevariety | G, oneshot, 1.7k

Demons can’t feel love, but Aziraphale can’t help noticing how much Crowley’s suddenly flinging the word around.

notes: one of those fics where aziraphale can sense love but either a) can't feel it from crowley for some reason or b) doesn't know it's him

"you are home (half of me)" by angelsnuffbox | T+, 5/5, 28.5k

Aziraphale had gotten dumped, plain and simple. But that small detail wasn’t nearly as important as all the things that happened after he’d gotten dumped - such as coming to a few realisations about his best friend of sixteen years.

notes: the epitome of gay people not being able to identify relationships

"the blinding look from me to you" by restlesswanderings | G, oneshot, 13k

There are nights Crowley aches so deeply she can hardly stand it. Nights where she’ll do anything to rid herself of it. She knows how Aziraphale’s arms feel around her and it’s the worst kind of torture, the worst kind of agony, because she knows she’ll never have it again. or: crowley aches for aziraphale in the best and worst ways

notes: holy shit dude

more elaborate notes: ineffable wives pining throughout the ages, this one is through crowley's pov

"are you my future or just an escape?" by restlesswanderings | G, oneshot, 20.1k

She wants to kiss Crowley and the urge doesn’t scare her like she thought it would – maybe it’s something she’s wanted all along but hasn’t allowed herself to think about. A dangerous thing, an angel wanting. Even more dangerous for an angel to give in. or: aziraphale can't stop looking at crowley and overthinking everything (companion piece to 'the blinding look from me to you' but can 100% be read alone)

notes: i actually read this one first, this is aziraphale's pov of the previous fic but could be read as a standalone

my ao3 history says "visited 15 times" as if i don't know that

"spare the righteous" by appleseeds | M, 4/4, 12.7k

When Father Gabriel brings a snake to their chapel and insists the nuns handle the animal as a demonstration of their faith, Sister Aziraphale can't help but be frightened. After a series of visits from Father Gabriel, when everyone in her Order has been bitten by the snake except for Aziraphale, suspicions rise and rumours spread, putting her future amongst them in jeopardy. At least Aziraphale has somebody to confide in about her worries - a lovely woman by the name of Crowley, who has recently started visiting the nunnery's bookshop on a regular basis and has proven herself to be very kind and understanding. Unfortunately for Aziraphale, she's also extraordinarily attractive and a constant source of temptation that Aziraphale isn't entirely sure she wants to resist.

notes: they're lesbians again! i have also read this fic 15+ times

"unexplained phenomena: or 5 times crowley & aziraphale didn’t kiss for the kiss cam and one time they did" by fractalgeometry | G, oneshot, 2.2k

Emma Rathmore knows everyone who comes to her son’s baseball games. Until she doesn’t. Still, even if she only ever sees these newcomers through the ridiculous new kiss cam, at some point they stop feeling so much like strangers. They’re certainly...interesting. And slightly baffling. But definitely interesting.

notes: outsider pov fic

“doggone batty” by kedreeva | T+, 4/4, 14.3k

Aziraphale, a werewolf who never fit in well with the rest of his pack, moves into a house he's just inherited a long ways away. The only problem is that he finds there's something more than a little amiss with his new neighbor.

notes: it’s impressive how in-character they are

“catalyst” by ikarakie | T+, oneshot, 7k

aziraphale spots a new sign on the door of the local brothel. that, a lunch date, and an obnoxious man bully him into finally making his demon actually his. OR aziraphale realises he has competition and immediately does something about it.

notes: starring jealous aziraphale, aka my FAVORITE aziraphale. i love it when he’s a bitch he deserves it

“all the dreams we had” by impishtubist | T+, 2/2, 6.4k

This time will be different, Aziraphale thinks. This time, Crowley will remember.

notes: this is one of the most devastating fics ever btw it has like…time loop aspects and amnesia at the same time..honestly even if nobody else goes through this whole list i’m glad that i was able to reread it LMAO

"and it hurt" by ineffabledoll | T+, oneshot, 3.6k

Aziraphale can sense love, but it was never supposed to be like this. The love was never supposed to be for him, for an angel, for beings loved only by God. It was not supposed to grow and grow, the ashen forest of a single spark.

notes: THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN ABSENCE OF COLD AND PRESENCE OF WARMTH...I AM UNWELL

"never judge books by their...?" by worseomens | *NR, oneshot, 4.4k

There's a burglary in Soho, right across the road from AZ Fell & Co's Antique Bookseller's. An angel and a demon are called in for questioning, and the detectives involved start to form opinions... (OR: Crowley's a flirt, and Aziraphale doesn't do PDA; people start to get the wrong idea)

*author did not rate fic, but i'd put it between G/T+ with no significant warnings

notes: another outsider pov fic

PODFIC AVAILABLE

"digging for gold" by worseomens | *NR, oneshot, 5.6k

Crowley finally stops hiding his visits to the bookshop, now the celestial powers-that-be have decided to butt out, only to be faced with a whole new challenge. (OR: The people of Soho make sure this newcomer isn’t about to hurt their beloved local madman)

*same as previous fic

notes: ANOTHER outsider pov fic from the outsider pov series by worseomens (total of 22 fics), this is one of my favorite outsider pov fics ever

"heavenly wicked cafe" by waitingtobebroken | T+, 7/7, 33.9k

There is a terribly rude barista that makes amazing coffee and a saint of a barista, whose coffee tastes vile. And they are in love.

notes: i wish they knew how to communicate like this in canon

"from eden ('till armageddon)" by ikarakie | G, oneshot, 3.3k

the british museum needs to take their nose out of crowley's damn business. OR a 200 year old journal full of crowley's pining and confessions ends up on display.

notes: historians finding crowley's diary like damn this guy is so queer we gotta put this on display

"a model guardian" by fuuma_san | E, 23/23, 147.4k

Crowley is a self-sufficient model on the verge of stardom. They clawed their way up all by themselves and the very last thing they want is some cream puff bodyguard their agency hired following them around constantly. Pretending to be their boyfriend at work so they don't get a reputation as a Diva. Watching over them. Caring for them. But then it turns out "Fell" was not even his real name. Was it all fake? Would someone like him ever want someone like them?

notes: this is a giant leap from mostly oneshots but this is like doing drugs for everyone who loves with a good bodyguard au <3 be sure to check tags for possible trigger warnings

"revelation" by syrupfactory | M, 4/4, 13.9k

The year is 3021, and Aziraphale and Crowley have been married for a thousand years. Together, they manage the London Archive, a futuristic information hub that stands on the same block that one held a bookstore. An Anglican priest who visits regularly has a huge crush on Aziraphale, and Crowley is amused … until the priest grows bitter enough to make a very poor choice. As it turns out, envy is a bad look for a man of the cloth, and pissing off an angel is far worse.

notes: can you tell i love outsider pov fics? i just need to see what other people think of these freaks

"candied apples" by pentagrammar | T+, 20/20, 46k

Crowley, his diet being as limited as it is, has never had a craving before. But that is before he saw Aziraphale. At least, he thinks it’s a craving. Now, he is embarrassingly fixated on a single human, and to make matters worse, none of his plans seem to be working. Being a vampire is hard. Meanwhile, Aziraphale is growing increasingly concerned about the odd man who keeps showing up and saying deranged things, and the fact that his dear friend Anathema is convinced that an evil presence has latched itself onto his bookshop.

notes: crowley is sooo dumb my babygirl the love of my life (widely applicable statement to him in general)

"couldn't resist" by edosianorchids901 & luinlothana | G, oneshot, 3k

When Crowley falls asleep waiting for Aziraphale to finish reading a chapter, the angel has an idea based on photos the demon showed him a few days prior.

notes: snake crowley being dressed up in little outfits GOD i love this

"snake eyes" by lucy_ferrier | G, oneshot, 3k

Crowley has snake eyes. They look like snake eyes. They function like snake eyes. The thing is snake eyes aren't all that good for seeing with. He doesn't really seem to let it stop him from doing what he wants.

notes: blind crowley with canon typical communication skills (read: none)

[liyahsun]

The Reward | Erwin Smith College AU

18+ Content | Minors DNI

Summary: You are a senior who attends a local college and are one of the top students in professor Erwin Smith's class. You've been given your exam back, with a considerate note.

Featured: Erwin Smith, Levi Ackerman (mentioned)

Word Count: 6.5k

Chapter Contents: female reader, consenting adult professor/student relationship, smut, cunnilingus (giving and receiving), fingering, deep penetration, breeding kink, spanking, dry humping, authority kink, possible future together, fluff, mutual pining

Disclaimer/ Author's Note: This upcoming scenario involves a college setting with both parties being adults. We wanted something for junior or senior college students (those who have graduated high school and are 21-22 years or older) to relate to. We do NOT condone pedophilia or minors willingly having sex with teachers or adults, grooming, and so on. Once again, this is strictly a college setting with both parties being adults. Please do not misconstrue or feel that there are nefarious intentions. Thank you very much and we hope you enjoy!

Co-written with my talented friend and fellow Erwin simp: @rosethorns10

Turning to face his students, he says, "Miss (y/n) excelled on this unit's essay. May the rest of you follow her example." She looks down and sees the discreet note next to her grade.

Please meet with me in my office after class for a discussion.

Upon arriving at his office, his door is cracked slightly open.

You knock as etiquette, him calling for you to come in.

"Ah, I see you've read my note. Please, have a seat."

A moment of silence follows.

"So, I've been meaning to congratulate you on your high scores. In all my years of teaching, I haven't had a student as ambitious and hard-working as you."

He places his hand on the desk, nearly touching yours.

"That's admirable." He gives a warm smile.

He starts again, "You know, excuse me for this may come off as forward, but, I'd like for you to stop by and have dinner at my place. Of course, this will stay between us, I'll cook. That is, if you feel comfortable. I want to reward you for your hard work. Bring family or friends if you insist."

You've been wanting this for a while if you were being completely honest with yourself. Has he been thinking about this too? After some consideration, the two of you set the schedule for a Friday night.

He has given you the address, not familiarizing yourself with the zip code, finding yourself in a middle-upper class neighborhood near the college.

The house presents itself to you, a quaint one on the corner. There are trees at the front and a few small lanterns illuminating the driveway. Only one car, and you recognize it with the college decal. In case things go south, you back your car up the driveway and stop a foot away from his car. Taking a deep breath you attempt to relax, turning your car off, nerves settling in. Stepping out of the car and locking it, you smell what he's cooking. You can't tell what it is, and your stomach growls loudly.

Bringing yourself to the doorway, you can't help but notice the potted plants within the porch area. Snake plants, peace lilies, and a few more you don't recognize. You ring the doorbell and knock, nervously waiting for him to approach.

As you wait anticipating what is to come of tonight, you wonder if someone from the college will see you, so you turn around and watch the road. The door opens behind you, cool air and the smell of dinner rush out and hits your nape. You quickly turn back around, and he's standing there in the doorway. A towel hanging over his shoulder, he's wearing a short-sleeved t-shirt, jeans, and loafers. You feel breathless; you've never seen him look so informal. His hair's as neat as ever, and he says, "Good evening, would you like to come in?"

Shyly, you reply, "Good evening, Professor, and thank you." He lets you enter his house, and you look around. Unlike his minimalistic office, the house actually feels like a home. You thought he was only someone who enjoyed books, but cooking? Plants? You'd never expected him to be so...cultured like this. Not wanting to make the floors dirty, you remove your shoes and put them near the door. Seeing he has caught you off guard, he wants to make you feel comfortable. He says, "Welcome to my humble abode. Come on. Dinner's almost ready."

As if he were able to read your mind, he nodded his head to an area by the door as you look at him with your belongings in hand. Placing them there, you proceed to ask him where the bathroom is to wash your hands briefly. Coming back out, he's setting the last of the food on the dining table.

"Please, allow me," he pulls an antique-looking chair for you.

The table was wooden but polished. He was a man of interior design to some degree, he had to have been. Each color of every visible room to your curious eyes agrees with each other. One who set foot in here could tell he put thought and consideration into his home. Attractive.

"Thank you." You respond shyly.

He sits opposite of you. To say the meal looked and smelled delicious would be an understatement. The meats cooked to perfection and the sides presented to effortlessly.

"Well, I am glad you could make it, I was really looking forward to this. Enjoying a dinner with you."

There goes that warm smile again, and your heart feels as if it were fluttering. Your stomach too.

"So was I, and thank you for inviting me once again! Wow, the food looks amazing! And, your house is beautiful," you say all at once as you pick up the silverware.

A smirk appears on his face, and then you stop as you become embarrassed. He has never heard you make such an outburst like that, for you were always so meticulous and serious in his class. You look down at the food, your hands somewhat shaking from the adrenaline and your heart racing.

You hear him chuckling, and then he says, "Well, thank you for the compliments. Since you did the very best out of everyone, including the upperclassmen, I thought you should have an excellent dinner."

You look up at him and find yourself shocked. He looked younger like this, carefree even. He's not the intimidating teacher whose units were the bane of some of the students' existence. He's simply someone who actually gives a damn.

"Please, if you would, just call me Erwin. We're not on campus, so let there be no formalities between us," he invites, snapping you out of your thoughts.

"Ah, yes, of course! Erwin" his name rolled out your mouth so naturally. Like it was meant to be said by you. It must have affected him too as you saw him shift in his seat a little.

Were you supposed to see that?

Some moments go by. It's a comfortable silence except for the clanking of the silverware against the plate.

Your voice interjects, "Erwin, this dish is amazing! Where'd you learn to cook like this?"

"My father. He was a man of many talents. He's what got me into the field of teaching, it's why I'm so passionate during lectures." He takes another bite, after his eyes locking with yours.

"(Y/n), I hope that you're finding everything alright. I want you to know [that] you can stay as long as you please. Your company is much appreciated, no rush," he smiles again.

It wasn't the same smile he'd shoot you on campus. No. This one felt more endearing. The way he was looking into your eyes; your mind, body and soul.

"Yes...of course," you manage to barely muster out, as your breath was literally taken from you as you noticed how gorgeous his blue eyes were up close--the light sprinkle of freckles on his nose and cheeks, the softness of his plus lips. Those lips that spoke so intelligently.

The softness of his neat hair that was now slightly tousled. He looked so at ease and at peace in this very moment, and you wondered if you contributed to any of that feeling.

You feel his foot brush against yours under the table. He pulls back, him feeling it may have been a mistake, but to his reassurance, you place your foot atop of his, massaging it slightly.

He chuckles, and you give him a shy smile and continue eating. Seeing you are now relaxed, he allows you to continue.

"I never asked you what you'd like to drink. What would you like?" he inquires, and you think for a moment.

Would it be overstepping if you had asked him for wine? Wine would compliment everything.

You decide to be bold.

"If it's not too much to ask, do you have any wine?" you ask, and he replies, "Of course I do, and it's not too much to ask." He stands up and quickly goes to the kitchen, his body somewhat turned away from you.

Was he...hiding something? Did something happen to him? Was he hurting? What hap-

You look at the kitchen's doorway and wonder if he was hiding something.

What have you done? He was walking just fine a few minutes ago...wasn't he?

He comes back with the bottle of wine and two glasses, and you ask, "Are you all right? Is something wrong?"

Going to your side and putting a glass just beyond the placemat, he replies, "I'm quite all right. Thank you."

Breaking the seal of the bottle, he opens it in front of you so that he could seem the perfect gentleman. He doesn't want you to be alarmed or think he's taking advantage of you. A student in his house...many things could go wrong. He pours a little bit into your glass, and you swirl it around before smelling it. You take a small sip, and it's to your liking.

"How is it?" he asks, and you reply, "It's good."

Your exposed neck is driving him crazy as he stands just off to the side behind you. He finds himself being slowly aroused by it, and you turn your head ever so slightly.

He's not moving, and so you ask, "Erwin?"

"Hmmm?" he manages to respond, and you sweep your hair to one side and say, "You know, if you'd like to, just ask."

After a moment of whether he should be truthful or turn you down, he begins, "I don't want you thinking I invited you here and expected you to- "

"You're too disciplined and very much a gentleman; however, you're hiding your erection from me. Please know I'm actually quite comfortable now," you softly coax, surprising him that you had caught onto his behavior so quickly.

He sighs, "(Y/N)..."

He fills your glass halfway and puts the bottle down, and you take a nice, long sip. He kisses your cheek and then moves his way down to your neck, and your head lolls to one side as you sigh.

"I must confess I enjoy you being in my class. You've become, undeniably, my favorite student since you're meticulous and come prepared," he whispers in your ear before turning your chin so that you could look at him.

He looks so sweet...and kind. He had always been so...alluring when lecturing in...

He stops what he's doing and begins to pull away. Quickly, he says, "I apologize. I've gone too far."

You grab his wrist gently and look up at him, "no, it's okay. I want this. I've been wanting this. I've been wanting you, Erwin." Your hand slowly trails up his forearm and-

Goodness his bicep is firm.

He watches you admire his hard work.

Is there anything this man doesn't do?

"You're my favorite professor," you kiss his arm seductively,

"and all those moments when your eyes would linger on me, and when you'd turn your back I'd linger back"

He chuckles.

"And I've felt them, your eyes looking at more than just the board"

He was at ease again.

You blush and look down. He chuckles and kisses your forehead.

He noticed. I thought he wouldn't notice much since I don't talk often.

She doesn't socialize with many people at school. Is she lonely? She smells so good...her shampoo...she switched it up this time.

Realizing there's a comfortable silence between you both, you say, "Well, it's not everyday you have a very handsome professor. I thought you wouldn't notice."

He murmurs, "Of course I would. I've noticed that you don't socialize much. May I ask why?"

For a moment you gather your thoughts.

"I've always been one to go to class for strictly the lecture, take my notes, and leave. I suppose I could start participating more in class discussions I just don't know how to bring myself to do so," you answer honestly.

He wraps his arms around you from behind, resting his chin in the crook of your neck, sending shivers of delight through you. Your lower region pulsing beyond your control.

He whispers against your ear, "that's alright, I could help you come out of your shell, with time of course. Small acheivements. I am already so fond of all your hard work." He kisses your ear taking a bit of it between his warm lips.

Against your attempt to hold it back, a whimper escapes your parted lips followed by a soft moan.

He hums against you, savoring this delicate moment. So many days of lectures he'd think about you. How beautiful you looked when being so focused in class. How you trusted him at this very moment and wanted him too. How some days he'd look forward to the class you were in just to see your face.

You turn your face to the side he is at and kiss him. He sighs into it, his grip around you feeling so strong and safe, like this is where you were meant to be. Taking initiative you lick his lower lip asking for entrance, and he opens so wantingly for you. He tastes the wine he just poured you, earning an audible moan from him. He is entranced by you, and you by him.

Your hand reaches his waist, tugging at the hem of his shirt to come down. He gets down on one knee beside you, pulling you to sit on his lifted thigh. Legs on either side of his thigh, you find yourself in the closest proximity you've ever been with him.

"Erwin," you say softly, holding his face. He calls your name, just as softly, wrapping a strong arm across your lower back pulling you into him, resulting in you grinding into his thigh.

Fuck.

You gasp at the sudden friction, unable to control yourself. You thrust forward again.

He brings his lips to yours, saying against them, "keep doing that, you'll end up making me a mess."

"Maybe, that's what I really want. To see you such a mess. You've always been so neat and put together..." you find yourself whispering before briefly kissing his lips.

His other hand makes its way under your shirt, and you groan and keep thrusting. Seeing his neck wants some attention, you kiss it and begin sucking.

Unable to control himself any longer, he picks you up. Since you want this - he knew that once you started on something, you'd complete it thoroughly until nothing was left of it - he takes his time taking you down the hallway. To feel your body against his, to feel your heat, he had dreamed of this moment. To take you to his room is, to him, surreal. As for you, you don't care where you're going. As long as you're with him, everything makes perfect sense. His cock poking you, your wetness about to seep through your pants, you groan as he opens a door.

The room is dark, and he knows where to put you down. He doesn't care for the lights; at this point, they're unnecessary. Instead of immediately stripping, he wants to take his time with you. Maybe, he could miss the lecture in the morning for once.

He runs his hands under your shirt and removes it, and the moonlight entering the room makes you mesmerized by him looming over you.

Looking down at you, he murmurs, "How beautiful you look."

"Mm thank you[,]" you say hazily. You appreciated the lights remained off as you were shy about your body in his presence, though, you were sure he found you beautiful regardless. His eyes were still so bright in the dimness of the moonlight.

If only this moment alone could last forever.

His hands pulled over your shirt, coming back down to graze under your back--and they seared against your skin, nipples hardening under your bra. Your back arched into him and you pulled him down to kiss him again, passionately.

Through heated kisses[,] you hear him profess your name softly again and again. The sound of the both of your tongues uniting and dancing together alone was harmonious to both of your ears, so sensual. You plant open and hot wet kisses down his neck, placing the heels of your foot into his back, pulling his body down into you. His dick massaging into your dampness, making him pant and roll his hips into in neediness.

His breath is hot into your ear, deep and wanting moans from his grinding into you making you beyond wet. This alone, the two of you swore would cause you to climax on its own, as you both have been wanting this for so long.

He lifts up to take his shirt off, coming back down for skin to skin contact. He melts into [the] softness of your torso, and you relish the firmness of his. Your warm bodies melting so good against the other.

He starts kissing down to peel your bra off with a delicateness he displayed all throughout tonight, even in class.

"Beautiful[,]" he says softly.

He takes you in again for a moment, moonlight accenting your shape. The roundness of your breasts, breasts he wanted in his mouth so badly. In a swift movement[,] he takes both of them in his large hands, fondling and massaging them all while pressing his cock into you again. Coming down he takes a bud into his mouth, swirling slow hot circles around each one. Giving each one the attention they deserve.

It's what you deserve.

He continues kissing downward, your back arching more.

Reaching the hemline of your pants, he unbuttons them and pulls them down. His muscles, accentuated by the moonlight, stun you. His biceps now fully seen, his abs, his chest, the trail leading down his pants...your eyes trail down to his erection, and you find yourself licking your lips and wanting it inside of your mouth. It's making your mouth water, and he loops a single finger to raise your lace panties off your skin.

You find your hips lifting off the bed and obeying him, and he has a gentle, animalistic look in his eyes as takes the hem of your panties in his teeth and pulls them down your thighs. Once past your knees, he removes them with his hands and tosses them onto the floor. As he goes back up to you, he leaves kisses on your legs.

His warm breath sends shivers throughout your body, and then he whispers, "Spread your legs, darling. I want to know what you taste like."

Knowing that his cock was probably hurting to be released or that his pants were about to tear, you murmur, "wait."

He stops and looks at you, and you sit up and reach for his pants. Putting a hand on your nape, he kisses your lips as your fingers unbutton his pants. He groans, for only a small portion of the tension has been released.

You whisper, "I want it, Erwin...I want to see it."

Finding himself obeying you, he removes his pants and boxers. Your eyes land on it, and you find yourself craving it and in awe. It was larger than you thought, his balls hanging as if he had never done this before. Or, has he...? He groans, "There." You touch the head, making him groan again and his cock twitch. Then, you wrap your fingers around it and look up at him. He seems larger than life, and he's wanting to know what you plan to do next.

You lick the head and kiss it, and his head goes back as his eyes close. Slightly surprised that only those small gestures could already do so much, a mischievous smile appears on your face as you continue. Having heard from your roommate's conversation with her friends about where to touch a cock, you keep what she said in your mind and start planting kisses.

He finds himself breathless, the sensations messing with his mind. The worry about the food is now in the back of his mind, and he looks down at you.

Seeing you weren't used to this type-of-thing, he wonders, "Wherever did you learn this? I always took you as - " He groans; you've taken his head in your mouth and are sucking.

He gasps, "Fuck."

Looking up at him, you take your mouth off his cock and smile mischievously. You've never heard him say something so vulgar, and he traces his finger on your bottom lip and asks, "Now, where did you learn that? I thought you were such a good girl."

You lick your lips and murmur, "Nowhere."

"Well...open your mouth...please."

You eagerly open your mouth, and he fills your mouth with his cock as a groan escapes his lips. He holds the back of your head and thrusts, making you muffle with excitement and even more horny. You're now on your knees at the foot of his bed, and he's standing. He looks down at you and smirks. How he had dreamed to see you like this. So submissive, so willing...and so surprising. His cock reaching the back of your throat, he mutters, "Fuck, you feel good."

Hearing him so seductive is music to your ears, and you begin fondling his balls and using your tongue. You want him to come undone; however, being a novice you didn't know what else to do.

Your lips wrap back around his thick head, relaxing your throat to allow his girth more entry.

"Fuck...fuck" he repeatedly moans off more as he cannot find other words in being in so much pleasure. Grabbing ahold of your hair and caressing it through his hands as he did not know what else to do with them.

You take your hands around him, going full force, the squelching sounds from your throat filling the air, making you clench and release around nothing, wetness traveling down your thighs from being so turned on.

You take him out of your mouth, saliva coating his delicious cock.

Teasingly slapping his head against your lips, looking up at him with a devilish glint in your eyes, you say, "who would have thought the professor would get sucked off by his good and quiet student?"

He growls and thrusts abruptly up into your hand in response, losing what was left of his composure.

"Who would have known you're good at papers and being so naughty?" He huskily responds back.

"Come up, I can't take it anymore."

He lifts your body with ease, throwing you onto the bed gently onto your back, immediately pulling your ass to the edge of the bed. His cock bobbed at how glistening your pussy was in the moonlight. He needed to taste you now.

He brought his mouth to your inner thigh, wetly kissing to your awaiting throbbing mess.

"Erwin, yes..." you buck your hips toward his head, as you cannot wait any longer. He takes your legs over his shoulders and delves in, kissing your clit first, following by opening his mouth around it and suckling it gently with a long and deep drawn out moan.

He gives loving licks into your slit and around your throbbing bulb, occasional slurps as you tasted so fucking good to him.

Before you knew it, you feel one of his thick fingers enter inside you as he surrounds your clit again.

It was too much, you'd cum almost insantly. His thick muscle played with you so well, he tasting every bit of wetness that seeped out of you. All you could manage to do was let out the prettiest moans, run your hands through his blonde loc[k]s, and roll your body into his face.

This moment was too good to ever forget. He became the center of your world in this very instant.

Putting another finger into you, he looks up at you and sees your expression of ecstasy and delight. To tease you like this, to play with you like this...

"How beautiful," he murmurs before feeling your walls tighten.

Your moans filling the room, your body nearly loses control of itself. He wants you to finish, but he knows you might not want to just yet. You weren't one to finish quickly anyways. You enjoyed taking your time in class, so why rush now? Why make you finish before he does?

Raising his head, he murmurs, "I want you, my dear, to move up the bed. I can't take it any longer. Let me have you, please. I want you."

You've never heard him beg. He's not one to beg. He's one to give orders. He doesn't beg. But, he's no longer Professor Erwin Smith. He's your Erwin. Breathlessly, you smile at him and do as he requested. He follows you, and the moonlight gives him the mystique once more as he looms over you. He looks for any deviation in your feelings at the moment, and you do the same.

Does he really want to do this...with me?

You think as he brushes a few strands of hair away from his face.

His face is no longer the one you know from school; it's one of someone who you may love more than life. Your face has changed for him; no longer are you the mysterious student in his class who does so well. You're his.

He kisses your lips and positions himself between your legs, and you bring him down so that you could kiss him again. He moans into your mouth, your tongues dancing as his cock probes you. You reach between your legs and stroke him, making him groan and want you more than ever. Kissing your forehead, he murmurs, "Sweetheart...fuck..."

Unable to hold back any longer, he pushes his cock into you slowly. He doesn't want to break you. A loud moan leaves his lips, and your back arches as you struggle to breathe and make sense of anything.

As he makes it to his base, he stays there for a moment and holds you. He knows you need time to adjust to his size, and he murmurs, "When when you're ready, tell me."

You struggle to talk: pain, pleasure, sensitivity, emotions, everything's hitting you all at once. You wonder if you'll be able to take it. Will you chicken out, or will you be able to handle it all?

You look up at him, and he gently inquires, "Are you all right?"

You nodded; for fuck's sake, you've wanted this for the longest time. Make it a night you won't regret.

You do love him, don't you? Hell, you lust for him already, but this, this is much more than that.

You whisper, "Ready."

"Are you sure? Take all the time you need, sweetheart," he whispers as he kisses your forehead.

Moving your hips, you say, "I'm absolutely sure."

He begins to move, and the pain eventually goes away. It's like everything's right in the world, and everything's in its proper place. His grunts become more frequent as his thrusts become deeper, and his arms somehow find their way to hold you close to him. His moans replace his grunts, and your moans take their place next to his as they echo the room.

He kisses you every so often to make sure you feel special. You're not a dream or fantasy any longer. You're here with him, and he wants you to stay. He wants to try something now, and it's just a fleeting thought. He stops and lifts your legs over his shoulders. He wants to bury himself deeper so that you could feel all of him.

Finding your voice, you ask, "What are you doing?"

He answers your question by burying himself deeper and pushing past your cervix, and you cry, "Erwin!"

He looks down at you, his bright eyes now seeming dark, and murmurs, "You're so warm..." As he moves, you can't breathe. He's thrusting deeper, his moans returning to grunts, his pleasure mushrooming in his body as he doesn't give you time to react. His body now on overdrive, he can't think straight.

He kisses you, allowing your breath to come back, and slows his pace.

He whispers, "I'm trying to...fuck, I'm trying to control myself. Did I hurt you?" You shake your head, your body reeling from what just happened.

He can do that? He's capable of that?

He kisses you again, his neatly styled hair now a tousled mess. Wondering what would happen if you messed with his hair some more, you grab the hair at the back of his head and pull down.

Filled with pleasure, he immediately thrusts and groans, "Don't do that. I might not be able to control myself again if you - "

You pull on his hair again, and his back arches as he thrusts into you again.

"You...st-" he can't finish what he's saying. What you're doing is too good. You feel his cock twitching as it waits impatiently for him to begin again, and you wondered what'd he do if-

Maybe, it'll just work.

Pulling the most seductive voice you could muster, you lower your tone and murmur, "Erwin, I want you to fuck me senseless. Destroy me...please..."

You lick your lips and, giving him a side glance, finish, "Teacher."

Something snaps within Erwin, and the fire and passion inside of him consumes whatever self-control he has left. He begins to thrust harder, faster, deeper. His bed shaking, the headboard thumping against the wall, he wants to hear you cry his name. He wants you to cry out. He wants the neighbors to hear how he's now claiming you as his.

You're doing what he wants you to do. Your moans become cries of passion and ecstasy, and your body's in his control. Bringing your arms up to your head, he holds your wrist down with one strong hand and wraps his arm around your waist. He isn't going to let you get away. Not that you could or would in the first place.

Panting and groaning, he orders, "Scream my name, love."

"Erwin!" you cry out, his cock nearly splitting you apart as he thrusts deeper.

Is it supposed to be this deep?

He groans, "Are you now mine?"

Is that a trick question, or...

"Fuck. I'm yours," you manage to say, your pleasure overriding your thoughts.

"Keep screaming it. Scream it so the neighbors hear. You're fucking mine," he finds himself saying, and you obey.

Usually, he could keep the cursing to a minimum, especially around a lady, especially around a student. But you.You. You've finally found how to break his composure and turn him into a beast who doesn't care for decency.

The phone begins to ring in the kitchen where he had left it.

Stopping, he mutters as you gasp for air, "Awww, for the love of shit. They can fucking wait until we're fucking done, and that's the end of it."

Your walls are now twitching around his cock, and you've soaked his sheets.

"Now." he smacks your ass, making you mewl.

"Awww, what was that? That was adorable." He fixes himself to you again.

"Now, where were we? Oh..." He starts up the pace again, the ringing seeming like an eternity to finish.

Your cries start up, and his grunts fill the room as he feels himself getting closer to the edge.

"Teacher...how naughty you've become," he growls as he has let it finally sink in.

"Keep crying my name, my love. Tell everyone how you're now mine."

His hand holding down your wrists still, your back arches as you feel ecstasy.

How many times has that been now?

The wet sounds filling the room, his balls soaked with your cum, his cock coated with your passion, he wonders if you'll be able to walk in the morning and attend your courses. He groans as you tighten up around him, and you've completely lost yourself in his arms, his bed, his scent.

What was his scent again?

You gasp, "Erwin... Damn it. I just."

"Where do you want me to finish?" he finds himself asking.

Surely, not inside you. If you get pregnant, then you might not be able to finish the way you want.

On your stomach? In your pretty mouth? On your breasts?

"...me" he hears you say, snapping him out of his thoughts and making him slow his pace down.

"Where?" he groans, and you gasp,

"Inside me."

Knowing he can't turn you down, not now, he nearly panics. "Are you absolutely sure? I don't - "

His grip on your wrists has loosened, and you break one free and put your hand on his nape.

Mesmerized by what you're now doing, he murmurs, "Your courses, your future, your career... I don't want to take them all away from you. You have so much promise, so much potential to change things for the better."

Touched by his words, you sigh, "I understand, but you wouldn't be taking them away from me. To be honest, I see you being part of my future. Sounds crazy, but it's true."

Kissing your lips, he's touched. His animalistic, lustful side is gone and has been replaced with love. A future with you, of all people. Someone who could perhaps match him one day in the variety of subjects he enjoys, someone who can finally challenge him instead of swooning or lusting after him.

Letting out a sigh as he pulls away, he lets go of the other wrist and simply holds you.

A gentle smile appears on his face, and he says, "As you wish."

He begins to thrust hard, the full length of his cock now inside you. Your moans fill the room, and his grunts soon follow suit. He kisses your forehead and puts it to yours, and you find yourself smiling.

Me. She wants me.

After a few thrusts, he groans loudly and trembles. Not used to making love, he nearly yells as all of his cum pours into you. Hearing him like that and feeling the pressure in your belly rise makes you come for the last time.

Panting, he groans, "Fuck sweetheart, I-" He can't talk; he's lightheaded.

His heart feels like it's about to burst in his chest, both from exerting himself like this and you being in his bed. Not pulling out for a minute or two, he decides to kiss your neck and leave his mark. No doubt your classmates will see it and ask who the lucky man is. They'll tease you, and you won't be able to respond that it's Professor Erwin Smith.

You're on sensory overload, your head lightheaded as you're now sweaty.

He chuckles, and you ask hoarsely, "What?"

"Would you like to finish dinner now?" he asks mischievously, and you both start laughing.

You were both so caught up in the moment and passion that you two didn't even finish dinner.

Pulling out, he lays down next to you. His chest rising and falling as if he had just run a marathon or swam a few miles, he looks at you and asks,

"How about this? We finish dinner here. I know it's not the dining room; however, I don't think you'd be able to walk."

"And you can?" you manage to ask.

He spanks you and sighs, "Honestly, I'm not sure I can. You, you're too damn good. I didn't know you were like that, so naughty and seductive. Now, wherever did you learn how to do that?"

Mischievously, you reply, "Beats me. I've heard things from my roommate and wanted to try them out."

He chuckles and slowly gets up, and you curl up on your side.

He says, "Give me a moment."

You nod. He goes into the bathroom. Your heart's pounding against your chest, your hair now a mess, you smile to yourself. After a few minutes, he comes back out to find his pants and boxers at the end of the bed. Removing his boxers and putting them on, he tosses his pants into the hamper.

"If you'd like, you may stay the night," he offers, his gentlemanly behavior now back into full swing.

"Would you want me to?" you ask softly.

He turns to you and replies, "I'd like that; however, the choice is yours. It also depends if you're going to attend your courses in the morning."

Remembering you have Ackerman's lecture bright and early at 8:00, you groan, "If I don't go to Ackerman's class, then he'll kill me. He's brutal when it comes to absences."

"Oh? You have Levi's morning lecture?" he asks as he sits on the bed, his legs still shaky.

You nod, and he says with a smirk, "Well, in that case, stay here for the evening and miss his lecture. I'll request that he excuses you."

"I...wait, you can do that?" you inquire hopefully, and he brushes the hair out of your face and says,

"I can, and he won't ask for an explanation when it comes to me. Now, allow me to get the food before it gets cold." He leaves the room, and you sigh as you hear him in the dining room.

He comes back in with the plates and then goes back for the dishes, and you've found your clothes. As you put only your shirt and panties on, he goes back for the wine glasses that started this entirely wonderful mess and puts them on the nightstand.

Joining you, he looks at his phone and chuckles.

"What?" you ask curiously. He responds, "It was Levi. I'll call him now."

He calls him, and you begin eating.

"Levi. Yes. Sorry, I was occupied. Grading, of course," he says as he smirks at you.

Hearing Ackerman's tone, you know he's annoyed. He had that tone when he did his weekly reprimand regarding slacking in his class, and he'd omit you and a few from it. Still, it sends shivers down your spine.

Then, Erwin says, "If you would, please excuse (y/n) from your lecture in the morning.

An excuse?

"She's heavily intoxicated, and I'm looking after her. I'm afraid she'll have quite the hangover. Yes. I'll have it sent. Thank you, and have a good evening."

He hangs up, and you tease, "I thought you said he doesn't ask you for an excuse."

"It's so the school doesn't start an interrogation. Now, do you have any other courses?" he inquires before filling his glass with wine and taking a sip.

You smile and shake your head.

"Oh? Well, good. That means I get to spend more time with you."

"Don't you have a lecture in the afternoon?" you ask curiously, for your memory isn't the greatest at the moment.

Thinking for a moment, he said, "Well...I do. 4:00. After that, I'm free. If you're up for it, come on by the office."

"The office?" you reply softly.

Kissing your cheek and says, "Yes. I think we'll need to conduct some research or get into a debate. How does that sound?"

Licking your lips, you murmur, "I'd like that very much."

Smirking, he gently says, "So will I."

[thewickerking]

also like. As someone specifically who's been poor my entire life and homeless and currently being threatened with it again, who's lost family connections and money and opportunities for the crime of not being entirely white and relying on the systems people make fun of and never have to experience. Like. Mocking people (like myself!!!!) for struggling is gonna make me hate you. Haha homelessness. Okay do you know how traumatic it is? When you're fucking 2 years old? When you're 4? All the while being groomed by an adult man? Do you know whats its like to lose all your belongings because the cops fucking hate you and don't give them back? Do you know what its like to finally get a hotel or apartment for a month and have it be such a health hazard with mold and mushrooms growing bigger than your fist and more types of bugs than you count and having to toss out some of your few belongings because theyre infected and infested beyond repair? Haha school shootings. Cool do you know how terrifying it is to narrowly avoid the everpresent middle school gangs only for your younger sibling to be forced to be involved with a high school gang? Do you know what it's like when there's danger in getting an education and seeing the person you want to protect more than anything slip into that? It's not fucking funny when you get a text that your brother thinks he's gonna be fucking murdered after school and wants you to know that he loves you like youll never speak again? Haha dumb country bums. Okay what about when it's the people who are supposed to be your family and support and love you calling you racial slurs? What if you still kind of care about them? What about when there's fucking tornadoes near them and they live in trailers with zero support or basement or safety and they don't have access to anything else? Imagine seeing a news article about it and your heart sinking when they live near by and you don't talk much cause they're racist, but you don't even know if they're alive?? Haha Trump. Did you watch your mother break down crying on the phone, begging her father to not go back to Latin america because she was scared he would never come back? Do you look at news articles of deaths and search for your last name and hope it's not family? Have you been to detention camps? They don't let you go in but the outside paints a bleak picture, and youve studied pictures before. Its torture. Pictures of israeli camps look painfully similsr. You almost got lost on the way there because it's so isolated. They intentionally built it miles from bus stops. They don't warn people of their release and release them, offering no help or way to get even a ride to somewhere that's not long stretches of empty fields. Haha bad healthcare. Have you sat with your mother on hold for hours upon hours for services, just to be denied? Have you seen your mother fight insurance for months to not have to pay for her eight year olds psych ward stay cause he tried to kill himself? Have you seen her face that thousands of dollars bill and see her calculate if she would have to be homeless again? Have you had to cook for her cause she's struggling to stand? For years? Have you participated in studies so you have enough money for groceries that month? Have you cycled through over 10 therapists because they give the poor patients underpaid interns that quit within a year? Have you almost died at the hospital? Twice? And despite it all we give food and money to homeless people as often as we have it (not often). I've attended more protests than I can count. Protests, marches, rallies, even parades. We boycott despite not being able to afford the alternatives. There's so much I and so many other people do to fight and try to better things. But haha americans are dumb and one time someone was mean to me so I think you all deserve to die because your government hates you 🤗 ill kill myself in front of you to change the trajectory of your life forever, don't test me. I will do it. I'll buy a ticket to Europe just for that

[plumbogs]

anyway brandina time.

I've rambled before about how I love Dina Caliente and will defend her to the death etc, plus i'm a "dina was michael bachelor's young and questionable trophy wife" truther. I don't think she was ever necessarily a gold digger in a greedy manipulative sense, moreso that she valued the comfort/security found in wealth and Michael was well-off enough to provide that for her in exchange for him having a hot young wife and whatever. He came around the same time that Flamenco died, and Nighat had been dead since she was a kid, so she was entering the adult world functionally alone apart from her twin sister. I think Nina was probably jealous on some level of Dina/Michael, even if to most outsiders that relationship was questionable, because Nina just had her lameass high school boyfriend-situationship who she didn't actually want to be romantically involved with and whatever, but it still was a bit of a wedge to them for me. that's mostly irrelevant though. in turn Dina was totally jealous of Nina having Don in high school. usual sibling rivalry nonsense.

In my timeline, Michael died around the same time that Bella disappeared, so she and Mortimer ended up bonding in grief and kicked off their relationship. yknow still like, bizarre age gap but to me it's not intentionally malicious on either of their parts. BUT I do think that Mortimer as a partner did help her 'mature' in some ways, primarily because he had kids and wasn't as reckless and whatnot as Michael. She never marries Mortimer to me. She'd never be able to really replace Bella to him or his family and knows that. he has the world's angstiest verge-of-teenhood son and cassandra is literally her age. they're not about to see her as a real mom. Their relationship never really gets that deep to me, either. It gives her some time to come into her own and whatnot, be independent, etc.

Dina never went to college in my headcanon, she kinda just immediately married Michael and lived like that for a while, then lived half off his inheritance and maybe a lower-wage job of her own in the culinary industry. So sometime around her mid-to-late 20s, Mortimer also dies because he's so old. obviously that's sad for her again. With him she did have some more chances to sorta figure herself out beyond being a trophy wife, reconsider what's important to her.

MEANWHILE, Brandi was also engaged and married stupidly young. She was a teen mom to me. She and skip had a shotgun wedding, had their kids, Skip wasn't the best husband anyways before died, she went into a horrendous life-ruining grief period and alcoholism. the broke kids had it rough, the social worker breathing down her neck, etc. so she had to like, get sober eventually because Dustin had enough and had to move out and get his own life together before he lost it completely. she started doing yoga or a comparative social activity, introducing her to the Calientes, and they became friends because Brandi is so friendly and nice :) Dina's still with Mortimer, etc, but they're still getting along and Brandi's life is getting together.

Then Mortimer dies, Brandi's life is together enough and the kids are not little and in need of constant care anymore (not that she was great at that stage either but this is not a brandi broke parenting analysis post shhh). She is older than Dina to me by a bit but personal development wise they're now in the same place of "what do I do now". SO naturally they bond over that. and they start kissing about it because surprise. bisexuality.

to Brandi, Dina's nice. she can cook, she's been through grief more times than anyone can count, and is like an expert in "you need to do something fun for yourself" pep talks. to Dina, Brandi's recovery and work on herself + dedication to actually being a better parent is inspirational in a way. she doesn't really care at this point what people think of her, and Dina "professional arm candy" Caliente never really had a partner yet who had basically no expectations for how she came off to other people, giving her the most space she'd ever had to figure out her own life goals and dreams. brandi's all humble and whatever. her kids are annoying as hell but a very interesting change compared to the goth kids. dina's never a mom type to me but she does end up bonding with them all. whatever. yippee

I think after getting together, Dina would probably finally go to college or get a real career for herself otherwise. I think it can go a lot of ways. Both of them can cook. I think it'd be cute for them to open some kind of diner together :) or a similar thing. bake sale lesbians. mutual mid-life coming of age. trying to pick up the pieces of their young adulthoods not really belonging to them in a way that mattered. whatever!

[rocketturtle4]

get to know me ask game

Tagged by @lurkingshan and @thegalwhorants and @pandasmagorica this seems so fun!

@pandasmagorica pointed out in their post that bolding the text doesn't allow differentiation for people using screen readers and so added modifier words so that the text made sense when read out loud.

@thegalwhorants coloured hers, presumably just for fun and I liked it? I have been politely informed this makes it hard for some people to read so I took out the colours :)

And @lurkingshan added occasional info in small text in brackets. I have chosen to do all of these things.

RULES: bold the ones that are true & tag 10 people to do it.

APPEARANCE

I have blonde hair // I do not prefer loose clothing to tight clothing (I tend to like either in different circumstances) // I have one or more piercings // I do not have at least one tattoo// I have not dyed or highlighted my hair // I have not gotten plastic surgery // I have not had braces (I have had a full jaw expanding plate though) // I sunburn easily // I have a few freckles // I paint my nails // I do not typically wear makeup // I do often smile (This was expressed originally in the negative sense so I'm not going to bold it) // I am pleased with how I look // I do not know what Nike and Adidas are other than brands... shoes maybe or like clothing in general? // I do not wear baseball hats backwards (or at all, broad brimmed hats only)

HOBBIES & TALENTS

I do not currently play a sport (unless yoga counts?) // I cannot play an instrument well // I am artistic // I do not know more than one language // I have won a trophy in some sort of competition (back in the school days) // I can cook or bake without a recipe (only specific memorised dishes) // I know how to swim // I enjoy writing (non fiction) // I can not do origami // I do not prefer movies to tv shows // I cannot execute a perfect somersault // I enjoy singing // I could not survive in the wild on my own// I have read a new book series this year (although barely, finding BL killed my reading) // I enjoy spending time with friends // I do not typically travel during work or school breaks // I can do a handstand (in a pool or against a wall, not freestanding)

RELATIONSHIP

I am not in a relationship // I have been single for over a year // I do not have a crush // I have a best friend who I’ve known for ten years // my parents are together // I have not dated my best friend // I am not adopted // my crush has not confessed to me // I do not have a long distance relationship // I am not an only child // I give advice to my friends (only when they ask for it) // I have made an online friend (new experience this year!) // I have not met up with someone I have met online (sounds like fun though)

AESTHETICS

I have heard the ocean in a conch shell // I have watched the sun rise // I enjoy rainy days // I have slept under the stars // I do not meditate outside // the sound of chirping calms me (though it depends on the bird) // I enjoy the smell of the beach // I don't know what snow tastes like (I don't even know what it looks like in person) // I listen to music to fall asleep (as a last resort) // I enjoy thunderstorms // I enjoy cloud watching // I have attended a bonfire (so so many) // I do not pay close attention to colours (though I'm trying to learn to) // I find mystery in the ocean // I enjoy hiking on nature paths // autumn is my favorite season (In Aus this is March through May)

MISCELLANEOUS

I can fall asleep in a moving vehicle (being in a moving vehicle puts me to sleep if I'm not driving) // I am the mom friend (less now that we're all adults) // I do not live by a certain quote // I like the smell of sharpies (though I try not to smell them) // I am involved in extracurricular activities // I enjoy Mexican food // I can drive a stick shift (if this is the same thing as a Australian manual) // I do not know if I believe in true love (I believe that any love has the potential to be true) // I make up scenarios to fall asleep // I sing in the shower // I wish I lived in a video game (if I got to pick the game) // I do not have a canopy above my bed // I am not multiracial // I am a redhead (I am both red and blond) // I do not own at least 3 dogs (though across my immediate family (parents and siblings), we have 8. None of them are specifically mine)

Tagging @plantsarepeopletoo @wen-kexing-apologist @grapejuicegay @wanderlust-in-my-soul @stuffnonsenseandotherthings If you want to join!

[phantom090]

Writing Commissions Open!

I have experience writing fiction and fantasy books, short stories and even video scripts! If you've had a scene or story for your OC's, favorite fandom, idea for a video, or even your DND campaign floating around your head for a while now but don't have the time to dedicate to learning how to write it the way you want then let me take it off your shoulders!

1k or less $10

2k and up $20

5k and above $30-40

I’d say max words would be around 7-8k but I am willing to negotiate!

Payment methods are limited to PayPal and Venmo, half due at time of commissioning and half when you receive your finished piece.

I will not write incest, NSFW involving minors, or anything outragesly/unreasonably violent.

Even if you aren't interested in commissioning right now rebloging this can help me reach someone who is!

Thanks!

Small example of my work under the cut;

Inside the Elf city it was bustling and full of warmth and humidity, the scent of fresh-baked breads and home cooked meals rolled out through the doorways and open windows, or, actually, when I looked closer I noticed that there were no shutters to close, no doors in the arches; everything was just built open.

I had to take care not to run into bustling Elves and their children as they ran through the square, chasing each other and squealing. As they played they ran in and out of every building, unhindered, and none of the adults complained or shoved them aside; even when they ran through the stores, collecting toys and snacks—I had to restrain Val as she tried to follow a few fresh bread rolls carried by tiny hands—and resuming their fun without pausing to ask or pay.

I watched them in wonder; their outfits were all iridescent, in varying degrees of subtlety, the light shining off of their threads, and they all had rich colors; reds, golds, yellows, silvers, and a few colors I couldn’t even name.

Similar styles united the crowd, loose fabric blouses with little to no sleeves, silk belts tied around their waists, they wore cropped pants and simple, lightweight flat shoes.

Most of the Elves walked in tight-knit groups, laughing and horsing around: even more sat around the wells and fountains sharing stories and gossip about the other Realms. It was hard not to feel at ease just being among them.

Even Lokke seemed in better spirits; every now and then an Elf would stop us to greet him and Thor warmly. Though, they seemed to have a preference for the giant, and they’d hang on to his arm for a good moment and trail on about the latest goings on: a great deal of the news had to do with jokes and pranks that sounded mildly alarming and potentially life-threatening to me, but that both Lokke and the Elves got a great deal of amusement out of.

Seeing them up close I noticed that their skin tones varied like any other but it was full of vibrancy and light and as I watched them it almost seemed to shift in the sun, as if they themselves were made of iridescent threads.

Lokke was mimicking them, I noticed, as he stood a few feet shorter and his skin began reflecting the light as theirs did.

So much of this world was built of light and gold, but it never faded in on itself, it never blurred, it was all so stark and easy to see and understand; almost like the Realm itself was incapable of lying. I felt more at ease here than I had in a very long time, still, the weight of our quest and what had happened hung heavy on my shoulders and there in the broad light of Álfheim I shivered.

Word count: 484

[pebblemae]

I had found a video of an old infomercial the other day. It was for this cook book thing where you tear out the recipe and assemble the ingredients on the pictures of the page. Then, since the paper was made of baking paper, you wrap it up and pop it in the oven and boom! A whole meal! I was so excited and showed it to a friend of mine. I’ve always wanted to get into cooking and this felt like a good start! Easy and “color by numbers” esc. When I showed my friend though, she said it didn’t really count as cooking. It was just assembling ingredients and baking it. There was no skill involved and it wouldn’t teach me anything… I tried half defending it but gave up pretty quick because she is just a better cook than me (I have very little experience and she’s grown up making meals)

I see where she was coming from, but I think that if something like that book can get you excited about cooking and making your own food instead of buying out, it doesn’t matter if it’s “real cooking” or not. As a young adult learning how to adult, things like cooking feel daunting. If you find something that works for you, then do it. Life’s hard, no need in adding pressure where it’s not needed.

[syrena-del-mar]

Get to Know Me Tag Game

Tagged by @shouldiusemyname - It's been ages since I've done one of these tag games, so thanks for adding me into the fun!

I use the brackets to talk way too much, be warned.

RULES: bold the ones that are true & tag 10 people to do it.

APPEARANCE

blonde hair // I prefer loose clothing to tight clothing // I have one or more piercings [Currently have 5-6 on my ears... probably going to self-pierce some more in a couple of months] // I have at least one tattoo // I have dyed or highlighted my hair [I've dyed it most colors you can think of and used to self-bleach... now I usually just dye it different shades of brown, but I miss having dark red] // I have gotten plastic surgery // I have or had braces // I sunburn easily // I have freckles // I paint my nails // I typically wear makeup [I used to post music-inspired makeup looks pre-pandemic oops]// I don’t often smile // I am pleased with how I look // I prefer Nike to Adidas [I'm more of an adidas or converse type of person]// I wear baseball hats backwards

HOBBIES & TALENTS

I play a sport [Tennis and Krav Maga... does that count as a sport?]// I can play an instrument [I was a trained pianist for about 15 years and a trained drummer for about 10 years... though I haven't touched any of my instruments in about 4/5 years...] // I am artistic // I know more than one language // I have won a trophy in some sort of competition // I can cook or bake without a recipe [certain staple foods, not just on a whim though] // I know how to swim // I enjoy writing // I can do origami// I prefer movies to tv shows // I can execute a perfect somersault // I enjoy singing // I could survive in the wild on my own // I have read a new book series this year [Do law books count?] // I enjoy spending time with friends // I travel during work or school breaks [Only back to the homeland] // I can do a handstand

RELATIONSHIP

I am in a relationship // I have been single for over a year // I have a crush // I have a best friend who I’ve known for ten years [I count them in one hand] // my parents are together // I have dated my best friend // I am adopted // my crush has confessed to me // I have a long distance relationship // I am an only child // I give advice to my friends // I have made an online friend // I met up with someone I have met online

AESTHETICS

I have heard the ocean in a conch shell // I have watched the sun rise // I enjoy rainy days // I have slept under the stars // I meditate outside // the sound of chirping calms me // I enjoy the smell of the beach // I know what snow tastes like // I listen to music to fall asleep // I enjoy thunderstorms // I enjoy cloud watching // I have attended a bonfire // I pay close attention to colors // I find mystery in the ocean // I enjoy hiking on nature paths // autumn is my favorite season (CA tends to have blended winters and autumns so yes... I am that crazy person that decorates as if I'm in some weird neighborhood competition for the holidays)

MISCELLANEOUS

I can fall asleep in a moving vehicle // I am the mom friend [I am more of the dad friend... I'll always be here for you but I'm not always the easiest to contact] // I live by a certain quote ("It's not an end but an and") // I like the smell of sharpies // I am involved in extracurricular activities [Not as an adult, but as a teen I'm pretty sure I was VP or Pres of about 6/7 clubs, I swear I burnt out early] // I enjoy Mexican food [Specifically Yucatecan/Southern Mexican dishes, which is hard to find in the states] // I can drive a stick shift // I believe in true love // I make up scenarios to fall asleep // I sing in the shower // I wish I lived in a video game // I have a canopy above my bed // I am multiracial // I am a redhead // I own at least 3 dogs [I own 7!]

Now onto tagging! Sorry if any of you have already done these. @sunshinechay @a-slut-for-vegaspete @feelbokkie-main @nodtnutthasid @saturnskyline @elfenphoenix and anyone else that feels like they want to join in.

[rmd-writes]

Thanks for tagging me @hippolotamus @lilythesilly @welcometololaland this has been sitting in my drafts for I don't know how long now, but I'm overwhelmed by my work to do list so of course I'm procrastinating now 🙃

Bold all that apply (with some notes because Lola did and why not):

APPEARANCE: i’m under 5’5” // i wear glasses/contacts // i have blonde hair // i prefer loose clothing to tight clothing // i have one or more piercings // i have at least one tattoo // i have blue eyes // i have dyed or highlighted my hair // i have gotten plastic surgery // i have or had braces // i sunburn easily // i have freckles // i paint my nails // i typically wear make-up // i don’t often smile // i am pleased with how i look // i prefer nike to adidas // i wear baseball hats backwards

(Notes: I am quite often the shortest adult in the room. I've been wearing glasses since I was 16 but likely needed them much earlier. I used to wear contacts almost all of the time, but I prefer glasses these days and own 6 pairs, plus sunglasses. I like the way I look at the moment because I'm the fucking strongest I've ever been and have actual muscles now 💪🏽. The Nike preference is really just for Lola, I don't have a strong preference, but do tend to purchase Nike shoes for sneakers)

HOBBIES AND TALENTS: i play a sport // i can play an instrument // i am artistic // i know more than one language // i have won a trophy in some sort of competition // i can cook or bake without a recipe // i know how to swim // i enjoy writing // i can do origami // i prefer movies to tv shows // i can execute a perfect somersault // i enjoy singing // i could survive in the wild on my own // i have read a new book series this year // i enjoy spending time with friends // i travel during school or work breaks (if i can afford it) // i can do a handstand

(Notes: idk if my aerial stuff counts as a sport? I am very much not a sporty person. I've been surprised to see how many of these I've seen go around where people can't swim - it's so unusual for people where I live not to be able to swim, it's part of the school curriculum. I used to be able to do a handstand - pre-kids and destroying my core strength via two pregnancies. I have my core strength back yet but haven't attempted a handstand again)

RELATIONSHIP: i am in a relationship // i have been single for over a year // i have a crush // i have a best friends i have known for (more than) ten years // my parents are together // i have dated my best friend // i am adopted // my crush has confessed to me // i have a long distance relationship // i am an only child // i give advice to my friends // i have made an online friend // i met up with someone i have met online

(Notes: fun fact, the crush who confessed to me is now my husband. I have made many, many online friends and met a bunch of them (the best friends I've known for more than 10 years were originally online friends). and in 47 days I get to meet more online friends and I couldn't be MORE EXCITED)

AESTHETICS: i have heard the ocean in a conch shell // i have watched the sun rise // i enjoy rainy days // i have slept under the stars // i meditate outside // the sound of chirping calms me // i enjoy the smell of the beach // i know what snow tastes like // i listen to music to fall asleep // i enjoy thunderstorms // i enjoy cloud watching // i have attended a bonfire // i pay close attention to colours // i find mystery in the ocean // i enjoy hiking on nature paths // autumn is my favourite season 🍂

(Notes: in theory I enjoy rainy days and thunderstorms but I DO NOT LIKE the humidity that accompanies them here)

MISCELLANEOUS: i can fall asleep in a moving vehicle // i am the mom friend// i live by a certain quote // i like the smell of sharpies // i am involved in extracurricular activities //i enjoy mexican food // i can drive a stick-shift // i believe in true love // i make up scenarios to fall asleep // i sing in the shower // i wish i lived in a video game // i have a canopy above my bed // i am multiracial // i am a redhead // i own at least three dogs

(Notes: I am quite literally the mum friend. But also: see me sending my friends to bed when they're online too late and reminding them to drink water. I wasn't allowed to get an automatic licence - my dad said he'd only teach me to drive and help pay for my first car if I learned to drive a manual car)

I don't know who's already done this game, it's been going around for a while but let's try: @basilsunrise @heartstringsduet @heartitinthesilence @rosedavid @mostlyinthemorning @stereopticons @kiwiana-writes @pragmatic-optimist @sunshinestrand @reyesstrand @strandnreyes @freneticfloetry @fitzherbertssmolder @lemonlyman-dotcom

[lumine-no-hikari]

Dear Sephiroth: (a letter to a fictional character, because why not) #7

Today, I finally got around to seasoning the broth I made. It turned out really well. Most of it is being used to cook rice as we speak. Some of it is in mason jars, awaiting being gifted to friends who might want some. The rest is in a mug, on its way to being in my belly! It's warm and flavorful and wonderful, and I'm enjoying each and every sip!

I wish I could share it with you; alas, I cannot. But I can show you a picture of one of the filled mason jars.

Truth be told, I've actually been trying to play a video game today, but my brain seems to want to do literally anything else, haha… It's like that for trauma survivors sometimes, though, isn't it? Sometimes it can be hard to simply allow oneself to relax and have fun. Even after all these years, my body is still primed for hypervigilance, looking for metaphorical fires to put out. Nowadays, there are no metaphorical fires to put out though, so on days like today, I end up just spinning my wheels endlessly and tiring myself out in the process, haha…

I wonder if you get days like that sometimes. But then again, first you would need to have peaceful days in which to spin your wheels, right? Hm…

…I wish I could ask you how you're doing and what you're up to. I wish I could ask you if there is some way I might be able to help, even if it's something simple like listening to you talk about something weighing you down, or giving you a delicious cup of nutritious broth to drink, to give you a bit of extra strength while you do all of your unimaginably difficult things. I try to do things like this as often as possible for the people surrounding me, but it doesn't always work out.

Much like how it is in your world, folks in my world get conditioned to avoid help and connection, either because they're suspicious of it, or they don't believe they deserve it. There are probably a lot more reasons, but those seem to be the main ones; everyone here suffers from invisible wounds given to them by the people around them, and sometimes you just can't get through to the other person because of those wounds. Sometimes it's discouraging to think that maybe my voice and my outstretched hand don't actually reach anywhere or count for anything; after all, it seems like there are innumerable starfish stranded on the sand at low tide, and sometimes it seems as though the beach stretches on infinitely in both directions.

Oh; have you heard that story about the starfish on the beach, I wonder? It goes sort of like this:

One day, there was a child walking along the beach. The tide was low, and lots of starfish were stranded, dying on the sand. The child was picking up all the starfish that could be seen, and gently tossing them back into the sea. Then a grumpy adult approached the child. Angry at what the child was trying to do, the adult said: "Why are you wasting your time? There are thousands of starfish, and miles upon miles of beach; what makes you think that you could possibly make a difference?" The child looked at the adult, smiled gently, reached down to pick up another starfish, and tossed it back into the sea. The child then replied, "I made a difference to that one."

Someday I hope to be even half as brave as the child in the story. But as it is now, I tend to crumble easily in response to naysayers and to indifference. But maybe the first steps towards becoming more like the child in the story is refusing to be blind to the starfish we've already tossed back into the sea, even if they end up crawling back to the sand and getting stranded again. And maybe the final steps towards becoming more like the child in the story involve understanding that all humans are starfish with the same powers as the child. We can all toss each other back into the sea if we try really hard.

I hope you'll do your best to toss as many starfish back into the sea as you can. And I hope when someone goes to do the same for you, you'll let them.

Please be safe out there; we need you here.

Your friend, Lumine

[mpregjohnwinchester]

fic quiz

tagged by the wonderful @nameslikeguns, thank you!

1. How many works do you have on ao3? 38! Got two WIPs cooking so hopefully I'll hit 40 by the new year :)

2. What's your total ao3 word count?

226,530

3. What fandoms do you write for? Literally just SPN these days. I do tend to just write for one fandom for years at a time though!

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

when i'm down on my knees you're how i pray

someone forever warm

when i hear your lips make a sound

and if you crave it then you know that you are injured

i don't mean to suggest that i loved you the best

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not? Yes - eventually. I am always so happy and grateful for comments, they fuel me, but I'm bad at replying to them bc as @nameslikeguns said I can find it difficult to respond bc I find kind words hard to know how to respond to. IRL if someone compliments me I tend to just squirm lmao so my responses to comments are the online equivalent of that I guess! I tend to just scattergun reply to my whole inbox all at once when I feel brave enough.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Oh gosh; as someone who mostly writes angst this is really difficult to say! Most of my endings are *~angsty~*. but I guess the first that came to mind is i don't mean to suggest that i loved you the best.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? That's easy lmao. so many moving parts or maybe some unholy war, which is a fic I forget about because i wrote it so early on... but it has a happyish ending!

8. Do you get hate on fics? i don't know about hate but i've had the odd pass agg anon here and there who wanted to tell me my edgelording triggered their IBS or about how much they hate john. Just makes me lol tbh.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind? Is the pope Catholic... :) Yeah my fics are predominantly smutty but I don't write a lot of straightforward porn these days (I want to but the muse doesn't take me there). Wanky as this is going to sound I usually build the story around the smut so I can get horny and Make A Point at the same time. Works pretty well for me!

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

I used to write a ton of bandslash back in thr day and that quite often involved crossovers from different, er, bands. I'm not going to talk anymore about that though lmao.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen? Not fully stolen to my knowledge but there was a fic going around tumblr recently that had quite clearly borrowed heavily and too specifically from this fic to be a coincidence. The person in question when my friend investigated was actually a minor so... it felt really difficult to do anything about it lol, I'm not about to go after a child on the internet. So I just made a pass agg reblog of the original fic instead like "Hey recognise this?" like the mature and sensible adult I am. But BELIEVE the bee in my bonnet is still buzzing about that.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated? Yes in my previous fandom I had a few translated into Chinese and Russian! That was really cool.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before? Yes several back in my bandslash days... I wish I could refind my Franz Ferdinand girlies from LJ and confess that I was one of the people behind "the dark!fic" lmao. (Or maybe not bc I was like 14 and had no business being in that community or posting what I was posting).

14. What’s your all time favorite ship? John/the world. I want that old man to fuck everyone. Or possibly get fucked by everyone depending on where the mood is taking me.

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? Serial killer John may be one of my roman empires and yet it lies in googledocs gathering dust. One of my resolutions for 2024 is to finish it.

16. What are your writing strengths? Ugh these questions make me feel so awkward lmao. I mean... I think I have quite a good range? Which is feedback I get quite a lot so hopefully there's some truth in it! And I think I'm quite good at imagery and emotional pacing ig? I'm not sure what else to call it. Also in the vein of common feedback anyway.

17. What are your writing weaknesses? SELF DOUBT. Honestly mate if I wasn't bogged down with that shit so much I'd be dangerous 🤪 It does make me write slowly and abandon a lot of stuff I start but I'm working on it. From a technical standpoint though I do struggle with plot. I think I'm more of a vibes/moment in time writer than an epic plot writer which does gall me lol. But yeah - I definitely struggle with longer works because I struggle with keeping things cohesive and overwriting/explaining then just overwhelming myself. Again, a resolution to work on for 2024. I also feel like I struggle with dialogue sometimes; if it doesnt magically come to me fully formed which is rare I'll really have to work at it. Trust me if you've ever written a dialogue heavy fic from me then just know that chances are said dialogue will have chopped and changed and been edited within an inch of its life.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic? I can only speak English sadly and have ultimate respect for people who write in a language that is not their first. That's just so amazing to me.

19. First fandom you wrote for? The White Stripes. Lmao. There were quite a lot of us back in the day.

20. Favorite fic you’ve written? Hands down i heard love is blind. sharp teeth dry heat and when the stiff wind blows are close seconds because i lived my goddamn truth with both of those fics 🥲 And I have a somewhat complicated relationship with what it is but I'm happy that it exists and i'm happy that it still does the rounds occasionally!

tagging @amiwritesthings @castratedsamwinchester @spnyuri @lovetranasction @beautyandthebeastiality @babybrothershaped and whoever else wants to do this idk who is and isn't writing atm lol