#excuse any mistakes pls

[wishfuldivine]

PT. 4 of GhostSoapGaz, where Ghoap are always going on dates and keep bringing Gaz with them because they love him, but he doesn't know.

Gaz stared at his drink for what seemed like hours. His mind kept spacing out despite sitting alone at the bar. The place was bustling with people and music, but it was like white noise.

The alcohol was already rising within his system. So much that he was sure if he were to speak, it would come out slightly slurred. But he did not care, though. This was something much needed at the end.

He gripped the glass and downed the harsh concoction with a small grimace. Tequila was quite strong, and it burned his throat as it went down. The massive heat of it pooling into his stomach like flames.

"Fuck. Why did I have to fall in love with them?" He asked himself, leaning back with a small frown. He wiped his mouth with the back of the hand, body beginning to feel heavy by the alcohol.

Drinking away his sorrows wasn't in his resume. He would easily regain and try to focus on the present more than anything. Family, work, and repeat. Never one to let anything detoriate him, but yet, here he is. Being pathetic. All because of love. Because of Ghost and Soap.

Bloody hell.

"Want to get out of here with me?"

Gaz looked up at the new voice and blinked. This was the third time someone had tried to flirt and possibly take him to the back alley for a quick fuck. But the previous men weren't as handsome as this one, no. This one was quite gorgeous. Light brown hair. Blue eyes. Facial hair. Definitely drop dead gorgeous.

He paused for a moment. Contemplating his choices right now. If he declined and stayed rooted exactly where he is, everything would suffocate him, and he'd drown in his own thoughts. If he accepted, there's a higher chance that he'll feel miserable. Simply because he'd feel like his loyalty towards Ghost and Soap no longer existed.

'But you need to move on. They don't love you back.'

That small voice screamed inside his mind. And it seemed to have been the last straw. He was thinking with his drunk mind and raw emotions. Not with his brain.

"Okay."

He knew he shouldn't be doing this. Especially with someone he doesn't know. But what other choice did he have? He'll try anything to get THEM out of his mind. He'll try anything to give his suffering heart a break.

"Great. Come on."

Gaz accepted the offered hand and stood up from his seat. The stranger intertwined their fingers, and together, they walked towards the exit. He stumbled a little on his way but was able to manage.

Maybe he'll end up regretting it later. But right now, his thoughts were filled with salvation. Even if for a moment. And if Ghost and Soap question him tomorrow, he'll answer honestly.

It's not their business.

[gglinaa]

a small self-indulgent comic about jim suddenly growing wings and spock being drawn to them

[astraystayyh]

inhale, exhale.

model!hyunjin x photographer reader. mutual pining and tension and flirting. friends to lovers.

prequel to Breathe, so i highly recommend reading the second part if you haven’t already hehe. reader is wearing a dress/heels.

hyune gives me photoshoots and i give you brainrots in return it is the natural circle of life.. i hope you’ll enjoy this one too 🥹 feedback is highly appreciated as always <3

Hyunjin’s eyes are piercing, locking onto your figure with an intensity that seems to capture you in place. He’s leaning casually against his sleek black car, one leg crossed before the other, arms folded over his chest, unmoving as the sound of your heels echoes against the cobblestone.

Instead, he tilts his head ever so slightly at your approach, his eyes tracing the contours of your silhouette, setting ablaze the scarlet fabric of your gown with their fervent scrutiny.

It was those very brown eyes you first noticed when Minho showed you Hyunjin’s portfolio. You now know that he is drowned in a sea of accolades regarding his physique— his sculpted proportions, the tantalizing curve of his lips and the seductive caress of his fingertips against them, and above all, his alluring aura and the way he works the camera as if it as an extension of his being.

But it is his eyes that have drawn you in first. Piercing, even through a stack of printed photographs in Minho's hands, burning through paper to ensnare your attention. Even more so, when these same eyes found you for the first time, in an outing your best friend Minho organized— an aspiring photographer shaking the hands of an established model, it was a match made in heaven, per se.

Though heaven was the last thing to grace your mind as you looked at Hyunjin, at the way he carried himself with a grace, and a slight cockiness that only comes from knowing your worth.

You caught his eyes multiple times across the dinner table, your knees grazing his underneath it. You returned home with his perfume imprinted into your skin from the lengthy hours you spent talking over drinks, long after Minho went home to his lover, and three cats. You knew then that Hyunjin could never be just a friend to you.

You are even more sure of it tonight, a fleeting four months later. Minho, the heir of your country’s biggest talent agency is hosting his parent’s annual party, gathering photographers, models, and artistic directors alike, a chance to network and score deals you wouldn’t find elsewhere.

Hyunjin insisted on picking you up.

You pause barely a few inches away from Hyunjin, close enough for him to behold the glitter gracing your eyelids, shimmering beneath the moonlight. Smelling his perfume feels like coming home, and you close yourself for a millisecond longer, allowing yourself the electrifying pleasure of being a mere breath away from him.

“Hello, love,” he speaks softly, and his words morph into invisible fingers trailing down your spine, igniting goosebumps in their trail. You’ve never gotten used to this nickname and the way it stumbles so easily from his lips, as if you could, one day indeed, be his love, a reality hovering just beyond your grasp.

“Hi, Hyunjin,” you smile and his placid facade cracks a little, a glint of a grin shimmering on his lips. He drinks you in, his scrutiny deliberate and unhurried, his gaze moving languidly across your form, flickering between all your features as if he beheld time between his palms, and all his seconds could be spent admiring you. It is only when he seems satiated does he speak again.

“You’re beautiful,” he says earnestly, and you don’t miss his choice of phrasing, you’re beautiful as opposed to you look beautiful, as though it matters not what you are clad in, but the fact that it is you wearing it.

Oftentimes, your compliments to him feel superfluous, your words faltering when you think of the many times Hyunjin must have heard the same adjectives describing him. Yet tonight, you cannot conjure a sarcastic retort to drown his sweet words, not before his ebony suit and the satin shirt peeking beneath it, worst of all, the delicate cascade of gold necklaces that glisten mockingly underneath the stars, taunting you, almost, for being able to graze Hyunjin’s skin when you cannot.

So, you settle for the truth.

“So are you.”

“Complimenting me quite easily tonight?” He smirks, and you respond with an exaggerated eye roll, leaning in closer.

“Forget it. You're actually insufferable.”

He mirrors your movement, drawing nearer until your breaths mingle in the space between you both. “I am actually very lovable, thank you very much.”

“Says who?” you challenge, a hint of defiance coloring your words. The kiss he imprints on the tip of your nose comes like clockwork at your words.

“You,” he grins, and you falter, caught off guard by the unexpected tenderness of his gesture. Heat rises to your face, a blush betraying your composure, even beneath your already pink-kissed cheeks, and you curse inwardly at your own vulnerability.

You hate him. You don’t think you’ve ever wanted to kiss someone this badly.

He observes your reaction with amusement, a knowing smile playing upon his lips as he taps the car door once before opening it for you. “After you, love.”

Stepping into the sports car feels like walking into Hyunjin’s essence— the rich cognac and oak notes ricocheting off the interior, the scarlet red cushions echoing the passion Hyunjin seems to carry within him.

And amidst the opulent interior, the small water lilies keychain you brought him seems almost out of place, as it dangles from the rearview mirror. Yet, it makes you feel as if part of you has intermingled with Hyunjin’s being, even in the most simplest of ways.

“Are you nervous?” Hyunjin asks ten minutes into your ride, his fingers drumming along the edge of the steering wheel. Your gaze drifts to the golden rings adorning his fingers, each one bearing the iconic emblem of Versace's Medusa. In another life, he could easily be their ambassador and muse.

Hyunjin’s eyes are piercing, not only because of the flames they dip your body in but also because of the gentle way they unravel your layers, understand your silences more than others grasp your words.

“I am. It’s my first time coming as a graduate, you know? What if I don’t leave a good impression on anyone?”

“Impossible.”

Had someone else uttered those words you would have been inclined to contradict them, but Hyunjin speaks with utmost certainty, as if his words are the only conceivable reply to yours.

“Okay.”

His fingers trail along the shell of your ear, delicately tucking a stray lock of hair behind it. The breaths in your chest ebb and flow more rapidly, you don’t know if it is from nerves or his touch.

“Inhale with me,” he instructs, and you follow his lead, synchronizing your breath with his. His hand glides down your jawline, a gentle caress that soothes your racing pulse. “Exhale,” he murmurs, and you release a breath you didn't realize you were holding, comforted by the weight of his touch.

You know the ghost of his fingertips will remain with you as the night wears on, a reminder that he is near, just around the corner, waiting for you to call him.

“You’ll do well, I’m sure of it.”

The gathering is held in a different location every year, and this time, Minho chose an intimate setting—a dimly lit hotel bar, graced by the warm glow of chandeliers suspended from the ceiling, brown leather seats surrounding glass tables, and extravagant flower arrangements.

For a split second, your back instinctively hunches, a reflexive response before this detailed showcase of luxury. But then you straighten your spine, comforted by the sound of your clicking heels against the polished floor, and Hyunjin's warm palm against your lower back.

You reach for a drink from a passing tray, the glass cool against your fingertips as you swirl the cocktail within. You take note of the numerous guests, as you cast a glance around the room, each one a titan in their creative field. Hyunjin stands at your side, his shoulder brushing against yours, as he too takes his time in assessing the room.

“Seems kind of boring,” Hyunjin remarks, his voice laced with a hint of disinterest as he leisurely sips his drink.

“Seems like your scene,” you tease, flashing him a playful grin, and he arches a brow in response.

“Oh yeah? And what is my scene?”

“An intimate setting with romantic lighting and jazz music,” you explain, taking a step closer and resting a hand delicately on his arm. “And some wine,” you add, though his attention is captivated by the movement of your shimmering lips as you speak. “And pretty people eyeing you all over the place.”

“Are they?” he counters, his hand sliding slowly to your waist, drawing you nearer with a subtle pull. “I only see you.”

“Really?” you challenge, trailing a finger tantalizingly slow along his jawline, “Then make sure your eyes never leave me throughout the night.”

His gaze remains fixed on your retreating form, a mixture of bewilderment and desire swirling in his eyes. He mutters a curse at the sight of your backless dress— it seems more than likely that you are a killer sent to end him by the end of the night.

It’s a few hours later, and Hyunjin has exhausted every social bone in his being, each interaction draining his reserves of charm and charisma. All he craves now is rest, and the comfort of his home—it turns out that, lately, it is more and more wherever you are, rather than the confines of his house.

He spots you sitting in a secluded corner, bathed in the soft glow of a solitary candle. A gentle smile graces his lips as he observes you, engrossed in nibbling at the snacks laid out before you.

Do you even realize how beautiful you are?

“You’re whipped,” Minho's voice interrupts his thoughts, Hyunjin does not contradict him.

“Is it that obvious?” he replies with a hint of amusement, his eyes never flickering away from your figure.

“You should see how you look at them.”

“Is it weird that everywhere we go, the world seems to narrow down to them alone?” he admits, a tinge of uncertainty coloring his words. The silence that follows from Minho makes a scorching heat creep up his neck, so he unbuttons his shirt for a bit of respite.

Minho shakes his head, a small giggle escaping his lips, before offering a reassuring clap on Hyunjin’s back. “I’ll see you around.”

Hyunjin quickly strides towards you, eager not to waste any seconds far from you, propelled by a longing that grips him like a second skin. He thinks you’re much closer to his heart than the necklaces brushing against his bare chest.

“Found you,” Hyunjin announces with a grin as he settles onto the couch across from you. Your body relaxes once you recognize him, your smile blooms akin to the first petals unfurling in spring.

“See, you didn’t look at me all night,” you pout teasingly and he chuckles, tipping his head back.

“I actually was. I was looking at you, through my heart.”

“How does that even work?”

He hesitates for a moment before his next words spill forth, unfiltered and raw. “I don't need to see you to know that you are near, I just feel it.”

A moment of silence hangs between you before you smile sheepishly, tilting your head to the side in wonder. “How was your night?”

“Productive but tiring, and you?” he replies, his exhaustion momentarily forgotten in the warmth of your presence.

“I got a booking, a big one,” you announce with a grin, and his own smile mirrors yours instantly, his happiness following yours as if tethered by an invisible string.

“Really?”

“Yes, and I think I'll need your help. It needs to be in a bathtub and I know you are busy so it’s okay if—”

“I’m all yours,” he interrupts without hesitation, and you nod, heart swelling with gratitude.

It is quiet then, as you rest your head against the corner of the couch, and Hyunjin mirrors your gesture, his gaze never wavering from yours. The soft flicker of candlelight casts a warm glow upon his bare skin, the one unveiled by his unbuttoned shirt. And your mouth suddenly feels dry, and your heart suddenly aches, for him alone.

He brings his hand near his face, his rosy lips brushing against his knuckles, as your eyes trace the contours of his face— it seems to possess an otherworldly radiance, with dark locks cascading like silken strands, as if meticulously arranged by the hand of Aphrodite herself. Surely, she would adore him too, as would anyone who had the privilege of knowing him.

But you believe your adoration surpasses that of most.

“Thank you,” you whisper, your hand reaching out to rest delicately on his knee. “For finding me again.”

In response, his eyes soften, a gentleness that transcends mere words seeping into his gaze. He's no longer just around the corner; he’s right behind the door, both your hands poised on the doorknob. It is only a matter of time before one of you takes the plunge.

“Thank you for letting me find you.”

[yournowheregirl]

@eddiemonth day 4: rejection

rating: T | wc: 913 | cw: hurt/comfort, general & UD related anxiety, hoh!Steve, pre-Steddie

Eddie flops down on his bed with a load groan.

He blindly reaches for a pillow and once he’s found one, he uses it to muffle his screams. It barely dampens the sound, but he's home alone anyway. He screams and screams until his throat starts to hurt and the tears he tried so hard to ignore, finally well up in his eyes.

Another rejection.

Another place that didn't want to hire him.

Even with all the strings Hopper and those government guys had pulled to clear his name, Eddie can't escape his brand-new reputation of local satanist and serial killer. There was a press conference and everything, and a personal apology from the police department, but it still wasn't enough to sway the public's opinion of him.

But he has to get a job, like yesterday. They'll run out of that government money sooner or later and he can't expect Wayne to continue cleaning up his mess. Wayne's done enough of that already.

Eddie's tried almost every place in town. His first instinct was the record store and the garage, because that's what where his interests and experience lie. They turned him away as soon as he came in to drop off his resume.

When he told his friends about his job search, Steve immediately offered to put a good word in for him at Family Video. Robin would ask their parents if they knew about any job openings and Nancy would do the same, though she'd avoid Eddie's name while talking to her father. Gareth, Jeff and Frank suggested he'd ask for a job at The Hideout, while Jonathan and Argyle suggested the local pizza place, because of course they would.

None of those jobs ever got back to him.

Today was one of his last resorts. The diner on the other side of town had an opening for a dishwasher. Not exactly the kind of job Eddie wanted, but it meant keeping a low profile and it would pay the bills. He'd take the job in a heartbeat, but the restaurant manager took one good look at him and sent him away before she even took one good look at his resume.

"We don't hire murderers." She'd sneered.

Any other day, Eddie would've maybe stand up for himself, made a whole scene, maybe even called the cops to prove his innocence yet again. But he was so burnt out from rejection after rejection, that he just shrugged, got into his van and drove all the way back home.

Even though the screaming helped a little, Eddie can still feel his mind buzzing, thoughts of anxiety swirling around and threatening to swallow him whole if he doesn't do something quick. He rolls off the bed, put whatever tape he can get his hands on into his boombox and turns up the volume to the loudest setting.

Other people might listen to soothing music to calm down, but Eddie needs the loudest, most aggressive music to drown out the thoughts in his head. The thoughts of never getting a job and leaving it up to Wayne to pick up the pieces, driving him to work harder and longer, until his brittle body can't take it anymore. Thoughts of losing their home again, being forced to call Rick again

It's all his fault. Everything is his fault.

Tears slowly roll down his cheeks as the music continues playing, so loud that he doesn't hear Wayne coming home. So loud that he doesn't hear Wayne picking up the phone to call someone. So loud that he doesn't hear the knock on his bedroom door twenty minutes later.

It's not until his bedroom goes completely quiet that Eddie finally notices he's not alone. For a second he thinks it's Wayne, but when he hears a muffled "oh thank God" from the other side of the trailer, he realizes that it must be someone else.

"Y'know, if you were so jealous of my new accessories, you could've just said so. No reason to shatter your eardrums like this." Steve says with a teasing grin. The sunlight reflects on the hearing aids he'd gotten a few months ago and of course, he pulls it off like he's a goddamn Calvin Klein model.

"Sorry."

Eddie's voice is small, barely recognizable to his own ears and Steve immediately picks up on it. His teasing smile fades away as he walks over to the bed and sit down next to Eddie. He shuffles around a bit to find a comfortable seat against the headboard and pats his lap.

Completely drained from his terrible day, Eddie doesn't even try to fight it and cuddles up next to Steve. He rests his head in Steve's lap and lets out a sigh of relief when Steve's hands find their way to his scalp.

"What's going on?" Steve asks softly.

"Another fucking job didn't want me." Eddie mutters against the fabric of his polo.

Steve hums in acknowledgement. "I'm sorry. You wanna talk about it or do you want some quiet time?"

"Quiet, please."

"Alright."

See, with Steve around, Eddie doesn't need the music to drown out his bad thoughts. They float away on their own as soon as Steve cuddles with him and starts massaging his scalp. Or, on other occasions, they float away when Steve distracts him by talking about Robin's hopeless love life.

Steve being there for him just helps, in general.

Eddie doesn't wanna look into that realization too much.

[rodolfoparras]

Thinking of all the ways you can be intimate with the Spot | 18+, MINORS DNI

Content tags: use of strap ons,

Ever since the accident happened and his body changed form, Spot never thought he’d be able to be intimate with someone.

However everything changed when he met you who was rather experimental in the bedroom and never afraid to try something new.

So it was to no surprise when you came up to him one day and told him about this idea that you had.

It all started when the two of you were getting intimate. He had you bent over, fingers thrusting into your aching hole and murmuring about how he wishes he could feel like he used to before.

Ever since then you’ve been thinking about ways to make it happen and one day you came across an article stating that strap ons were a great addition to the bedroom for all parties involved, thus giving you the idea that you should try giving him a blow job while he’s wearing a strap.

He’s sitting on the edge of the bed, head tilted in anticipation with a strap hanging between his legs

“You sure this will work ?” Spot asks and looks down to where you’re sitting on the floor, voice careful and unsure as he fidgets with his long lanky fingers.

You shrug in response “honestly? I don’t know but it’s worth a shot“

Despite taking a new form you can still tell by his body language that he’s nervous.

“We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to Jonathan” you say as you squeeze his thigh in reassurance.

“It’s not that I don’t want to. It’s just that I haven’t done this in a while and it’s much different from what I’m used to, you know? “ Spot says whilst shuffling around on the covers.

You did know.

The color of the strap was a stark contrast to the color of his skin, the size wasn’t something he was used to having and on top of that he was guaranteed not to feel a thing.

You nod your head in understanding and smile up at him. “How about this; if you really want to do this we’ll give it a go and if it turns out that it’s not your thing we forget about it. You and me can order pizza watch some movie and cuddle on the couch instead yeah?”

Spot takes a moment to consider it before he nods in agreement and you see the tension leaving his body as he relaxes on the bed.

Although his body can no longer feel the way it once did, he appreciates the way you trail kisses down his chest, the way your hands gently rub circles into his thighs and the way your eyes stay glued to his face, making sure he’s alright with everything that you’re doing.

The sheer attentiveness of it all has him lolling hishead back, chest heaving as his big hand gently drags along the expanse of your back.

“Still alright?” you ask as you pause your ministrations, voice careful and gaze gauging his every reaction.

Spot nods in response ”It’s really nice “ he says, voice shaky and breaths labored as his limbs twitch from your touch “keep going please”

As you kiss and caress him, you stumble upon one of the many spots decorating his body.

“Has anyone tried touching them?” you ask, eyeing what seemed to be a bottomless pit with curiosity.

It takes him a moment to respond, brain still affected by your touch “Only by accident “ he says, voice slightly cracking as he turns to the spot that you’re eyeing.

“May I?”

“You want to touch it?” He says, voice full of wonder as he adjusts himself on top of the covers.

You nod in response, still eyeing the spot.

“Alright, go ahead “

Spot doesn’t have to tell you twice as your hands sprawl over the expanse of his thighs, curios fingers skating over spotted skin as your eyes eaglery drink in the sight of the many dots on his body.

Some are big, some are small, some edges are very frail and some are very sharp. You trace each and every one of them with your finger as you gauge his reaction. “How does that feel?”

“Ticklish” he chuckles and you can’t help but smile at his reaction.

“What if I did this?” You ask as you slowly inch your hand closer to his inner thigh, fingers experimentally tracing around the edge of a spot before sliding two fingers inside.

“Oh-oh- woah” Spot gasps in surprise and falls back onto the bed “sorry sorry so sorry”

“That's alright, maybe it’s better if you’re laying down instead” you say with a chuckle, never once stopping your caresses “does this feel okay?”

He tries to form words, tongue stumbling over syllables as he squirms.“feels - feels good uh yeah good fuck -how are you doing that” he squeaks out as he gently ruts his hips against your hand.

It’s unlike anything you’ve experienced before. You can hear the whirling sounds coming from the portal, and you can feel the way the cold air caresses your bare skin but you can’t see a single thing. So you do your best to navigate your fingers in what seemed to be an endless pit, gently moving them in a back and forth motion as you keep your eyes trained on him.

“This?” You ask as you curl your fingers experimentally.

“Fuck” he cries out before he bites down on his arm, thigh twitching under you touch.

“Still alright?” You say with a smile on your face.

“Yeah, yeah still good” he pants, nodding his head, limb still twitching under your hand.

You give a few more experimental thrusts to his hole, watching the way he gets worked up only to suddenly pull away from the spot.

Spot whimpers at the loss of contact but you’re quick to console him with a squeeze to his thigh.

“I’d like to try something. Tell me if you want me to stop” you say to him as you inch closer to the strap hanging between his legs. “And keep your eyes on me okay?”

“Yeah alright -“

You wrap your lips around the strap as you sink down on it before you plunge your fingers back inside the hole on his inner thigh, doing your best to match the pace of your mouth with the movements of your fingers.

Spot gasps in surprise at the sight, back arching off the bed and heels digging into the bedroom floor for support. “Fuck oh- fuck” he cries out, voice full of wonder as he rocks his hips against your face “it’s like- it’s like you’re actually doing it”he whines out again , hands fumbling to grasp onto something and settling for clawing at the mattress.

You continue your movements, and you even tease him by pulling out your fingers only to trace the edge of the hole before plunging them back inside of the portal.

“Oh god- “ he sobs as you continue your ministrations.

“You sound so pretty you know? Love to see what more sounds you can make while I fuck your holes” you say as you pull away from the plastic, fingers still thrusting inside his hole.

“Don’t- don’t say stuff like that” Spot whines as he buries his face in his hands but still keeping a watchful eye as you drag your tongue over the plastic.

“Why? You don’t like it?” you ask with a smile on your face, already knowing the answer to your question. “Jonathan answer me “ you say in warning as you crook your fingers.

He sobs at that, fingers digging into the hole on his face as he furiously bucks his hips against your hand.

“I do” he wails, as he continues to rock his hips . “Feels so good feels so good feels as if - as if “ he pants, unable to finish his sentence as he starts clawing at the mattress again, slowly losing control of his senses

You sink down on the plastic again as you continues crook your fingers inside the hole on his body.

His head shifts from side to side so fast he looks like a moving blur, too far gone in pleasure to be able to look at you anymore as he rocks his hips against your face, the movement so sudden it causes you to gag around the plastic.

You pull away from him with a cough and blink back in surprise as you wipe your mouth.

Spot springs up so fast he almost tumbles over in the process. “Oh god- god, I’m so sorry. Are you alright?”

“Yeah don’t worry about that, just a bit surprised “ you say with a soft smile on your face, swallowing down the discomfort that was making itself known at the back of your throat.

“So- sorry” Spot says again. “Here let me-“

You just shake your head before you gently push him back down on the bed and sink down on him again. Your fingers return to the spot on his body, making sure the pace of your fingers matches with the pace of your mouth to keep the illusion going.

His hand goes back to your head, gently cradling it this time as he lightly rocks his hips against your face. “This is - this is so nice - thank you so much for doing this”

It’s clear that he’s trying to restrain himself, body shaking from restraint as he shoves fingers into the hole on his face to muffle the whines and whimpers escaping him.

As much as you appreciate the gesture you don’t want him to hold back and you make it known with a tap to his thigh.

His fingers fall from his face, body going completely still as he turns to look at you instead. He must’ve thought you wanted to stop because he goes to pull away but you’re quick to put a hand on hip, halting his movements completely.

You relax your mouth around the strap, body going slack as you guide his hips against your face.

Spot gasps at your movements, lanky fingers clumsily grabbing onto your hair as he guides your head all the way down to the base. “Fuck oh fuck please -“

What started off as a controlled pace quickly turns into a feverish mess and he wails, blunt nails dragging along your neck as he slowly loses control of his senses.

As you continue to sink down on the plastic and fingering the portal on his body , you notice the holes expanding in size, and even moving around

You’re amazed, eyes wide and mouth halting its moments as your fingers trace the many shapes of the holes of his body.

All of a sudden he stops responding, body going completely still and you turn your gaze towards him.

“Jonathan? Is everything alright?” You say, worry dripping from your voice as you pull away from the strap.

He’s got his fingers shoved back into the hole on his face, an attempt at silencing the whines and whimpers escaping him that only seem to grow louder as the spots morphe and move around on his body.

“Nonono don’t stop don’t stop please please“ he urges, hand clumsily grabbing onto your hair as he shoves you back between his legs.

Oh

Now that's a reaction you’re familiar with and you quickly wrap your lips around the plastic dick as you sink down on it, fingers plunging back into his hole and continuously curling inside of it.

You see the way the spots on his body continue to shift and change, and you feel the way his fingers yank onto your hair as he frantically rocks his hips against your face.

“I think I’m-I think I’m —“ Spot mutters into the palm of his hand before he comes with a cry, back arching off the bed as the spots on his body finally stop moving.

It’s unlike anything you’ve seen before, an orgasm accommodated to his newest form and you can’t help but want to see more.

Spot flops back down onto the bed, hand thrown over his eyes as he exhales heavily

“That was- that was woah”

“Should we do that again?” You ask with a smile on your face.

[matrixsss]

The Art of Matchmaking  

Lucien Vanserra x Reader

A/N; Hello Hello, so this is my first fic for acotar. I haven't written in a while so this is very nervewrecking. First I gotta thank some peeps who have helped and gave me encouraging words; @pixelcookiez for encouraging me, reading this through and helping me out! @chunkypossum for your kind words and offering to help me out, you gave me the push I needed to write so thank you. @mathiwrites for telling me I got this when I felt I didn't got this lol.

Hope you all enjoy this little thing and let me know what you think!

Read on AO3 or below.

Summary; Helion tries to hook you up with his son Lucien.

Act 1: Knowledge 

Helion looked at you with a deep knowledge in his eyes, you could sense the amusement that rolled from him. All of it directed at your expense. You knew his unspoken provocation is a trap, a game if you will, you knew, yet that did not stop you from walking towards your High Lord. As you neared his side, you could see a person standing next to him that made you stop in your tracks.  

His brows lifted as he anticipated what you will do, and you realised that he knew. He knew of your centuries old crush on the only heir of Day. How does he know? You hadn’t spoken a word of your feelings for the red-haired fox, hell you hadn’t even written about it anywhere. A lazy smirk appeared on the current high lord, expecting, waiting. Ah, you quickly realised how fucked you were. But you convinced yourself that he did not know of anything, he couldn’t. There was absolutely no way that he knew, you hadn’t peeped a word of your crush to anyone, certainly not him.  

A small comfort in the presence of his knowing look, that instantaneously disappeared when you reached the two males.  

“Ah, I half expected you to ignore the invitation.” Helion Paused “Glad to be proven wrong.”  

His words were an invitation to play this little mind game he had in place, the growing smile on his face proving your thoughts right.  

You directed a tight, uncomfortable smile at your high lord, completely ignoring the fox standing beside you. He looked just as handsome as he did every day, clad in day court garments, his chest out decorated by golden chains that went across his shoulders. You lightly bowed your head at Lucien who did the same. 

“Do you not recall the wording on my personal invitation? I felt like I had to come.” Your voice was even as you accepted his invitation to both this overbearing ball and the game he has started playing. You however did not know, Helion always won these types of games.  

“Did he threaten you to come?” Lucien said playfully “And here I thought you had come to keep me company.” A faux pout appeared on his face. Helion laughed at his sons words.  

“You truly are your fathers son.” You jabbed Lucien on the shoulder. 

“You wound me.” 

Act 2: Denial   

The door to Helion's office opened, you expected to see Helion himself however the male that had opened the door was none other than Lucien himself. An easy, inviting smile directed at you as he stepped aside to allow you entrance. This was one of the many reasons that had made you fall for him. The kindness he showed and the easy air of gentleness around him. You had seen him angry and vicious before, but that was not him, not entirely at least. He was that when the situation called for it. You couldn’t help but curse him in your head, for making you fall for him in the first place and for always managing to make you love him more each interaction you had.  

You simply nodded your head in gratitude as you stepped inside the spacious office. Helion sat as his desk, his hands propped up on the table holding his head in place as he stared right at you or rather right through you. Yes, the game is on, and he was excited, his grin showing as much.  

“Lucien if you would please grant us some privacy?” His eyes slid to his son with a gentle smile. Lucien nodded to his father, his eyes sliding to you. You had to resist the urge to tighten your mouth in fear of blurting your years long attraction escaping from you. Bowing your head to the future lord of day and immediately facing Helion with grace.  

Once you were left alone, the space was silent, you could not hear a single thing, not even the singing birds outside that usually sung so loud. You were waiting for him to make the first move, first sound. And you would not fail in that, in that you were certain. As a war general, you were once a measly foot soldier and nothing more, you had learned to stand still for long hours and stay quiet. One simple rule engrained in you, speak only when spoken to. You were patient and he knew that, but he just wanted to play, make you doubt and question every move you had made that had led to this moment.  

“If I ask you a question, will you answer me truthfully?” He finally spoke, leaning back in his chair hands clasped together.  

“As truthfully as you wish.” Was your trained response to the loaded question. 

“You like him, don’t you?”  

“I am unsure of who you are talking about.”  

“My son, Lucien.”  

“Of course, he is the heir and a dear friend.” 

“That is not what I meant, and you know it.”  

Another tight smile was directed at Helion, considering what your next words should be. You always sucked at chess. Planning strategies for war was second nature, but this, this was new and quite frankly scary.  

“I am not sure what you mean high lord.” Your voice emotionless.  

Helion merely chuckled at your denial and deflection before easily moving onto more important discussions.  

The easy transition into other conversations, unnerved you. What exactly was he planning? And how will you survive the situation you found yourself in. Mother help you.   

Act 3: Avoidance  

It wasn’t unusual to see Lucien prancing around, still the amount of time you had seen him around these past few days was rather unusual. You knew his schedule, what he does, when he does it, you knew all his usual movements, this was unusual. It made avoiding bumping into him that much harder than before.  

“Ah, if it isn’t my dearest friend!” You sighed at Lucien who approached you as you were overlooking your soldiers training regime.  

“Ah, if it isn’t the prince. Come to annoy me?” Lucien grabbed his chest, right over his heart grimacing at your words. It made you laugh lightly at his usual theatrics.  

“Sunflower you really should be careful with your harsh words.”  

“Do you not have better things to do Lucien?” He only laughed, patting your shoulder before leaving you to your work.  

With a sigh you made your way to one of the soldiers who couldn’t for the life of you properly wield a sword. You had tried everything to teach the male how to hold it. 

“How many times do I have to tell you not to hold it like that?!” Your voice rose slightly as you approached him looking as stern as ever. The soldier murmured a light ‘sorry’ before trying to correct his hold. You held back another sigh at his failing corrections before interfering and showing the male how to do it again. This was your element as annoying as it sometimes got, this was what you were good at.  

What you didn’t know was that Lucien didn’t stray far from you, he was watching your every move, silently admiring you with the gentlest of smiles. He was always surprised by your utter dominance over the soldiers, and how they respected you despite your harsh words and strictness.  

Each day as you awoke, you felt tired, tired of constantly planning how you would avoid the handsome heir. He was proving to be quite the annoyance using any chance he could get to come and tease you in front of everyone. 

In the evenings as you laid in bed you couldn’t help but think back on the interactions you had with the male, cringing, over how many times he had managed to make you blush. Thinking back on it, he always was quite the charmer, flamboyant and a true social butterfly and you always stood on the sidelines hoping to avoid any kind of attention. A stark difference between you. 

A sombre thought for you, but whenever it came up inside you, you just shoved it deeper down. He had a talent of making you come out of your shell, but only around him. No one else had managed it. The stupid crush on your friend should and would go away if you avoid thinking about it, right?  

On the other hand, after all these years, centuries, the day where you woke up without having this crush on Lucien never came. You still held on to that hope that soon, some day you will wake up and not long for the male as much as you did. Every other feeling you could ignore, but the deep longing inside you ate at you. Day by day, night by night it became harder to control that longing. A truly cursed feeling.  

You desperately needed a break from work, from seeing him everywhere. As the weeks moved, his new schedule never changed, it stayed the same. He was everywhere, always bumping into you, talking to you. Sure, speaking to him was fun, but by the Mother was it exhausting to keep all your feelings to yourself. It’s as if Lucien knew or at least suspected something, breaking down the walls you had built around yourself.  

His flirtations became more and more frequent, he never did it as much as he does it now. It’s like he enjoyed seeing you so affected by his words and light touches. That is another point, he was always touchy yes but never like this, his touches became a regular thing. Whenever the two of you bumped into each other, he would either lay his hand on your head, shoulder or he would simply brush against your palm as he walked away.  

You were quite tired of his shenanigans because it was starting to mess with your head.     

Act 4: Forced Proximity 

You were made aware of the summons from your high lord, it made you wonder why so soon. It was not at all unusual to be called for often, but it was never like this time. Something important must have come up for him to request your presence this quickly. It put you on high alert, a normal response for a war general.  

However, Helion seemed a bit too relaxed for anything serious to be going on. It eased your nerves a little, but not fully as the game was still on. An unnerving reminder of the predicament you had found yourself in. You spent many days questioning on how he knew, how had he found out? Were you that obvious? The answers never came, he never gave them out.  

“I need you to escort Lucien to the human lands. He has some business with the humans.” Helion said evenly reading the paper on his desk, never once looking up at her.  

“What kind of business?” You could not help yourself asking the question. Soon realizing that move was a mistake. The grin he had given you as he finally looked up from his paper told you as much. He arched an eyebrow, urging you to continue.  

“I need to be prepared.” Was the explanation that you gave your high lord.  

“As it is, I don’t actually know what kind of business he has. So, you will have to ask him that yourself.” He stood up from his chair, head tilted to the right with an easy charming smile. You could not resist gritting your teeth.  

“When?”  

“Tomorrow morning you shall depart from Day. All I know is that he plans to stop in Spring first before continuing to the human lands.”  

You simply nodded your head once.  

“Keep him safe, will you?” 

“I will.”  

You had everything ready for the travel to the human lands with Lucien. Nervous was the only thing that you felt as you awoke. Not because of the locations you will be going to, rather because you’d be travelling with him. The man that had made you fall for him so seamlessly, you wondered if you would be able to keep it professional. You really had no other choice than to keep it that way.  

“Good morning.” You bowed your head as you reached Lucien. He was dressed in his travelling attire that he owned from his time in Night court. His red hair was cleanly braided behind him. Just as handsome as ever, if not more.  

“Morning.” He smiled gently at you.  

“So, what is this important business of yours?” 

“That is for me to know and you to find out.” You resisted the twitch in your eye at his teasing words.  

“Can you be serious for a moment?” He didn’t offer a response but rather his hand for you to take, so he could winnow you two to Spring.  

You took his hand, trying your hardest to not clasp it together like you wished to do. Lucien gently held your hand, like it was made of glass. The hands that killed others without remorse or mercy, being held so gently made you want to grimace and let go. But you pushed the need to pull your hand away.  

“Hmm, I don’t particularly feel like being serious right now.” Lucien answered your earlier question, winking at you before winnowing to Spring.  

You quickly dropped his hand when you had arrived in Spring. Luckily, Lucien just started walking towards Tamlins’ mansion. You quickly followed him, hoping everything would pass by quickly and without a hitch. Tamlin was already awaiting your arrival at the entrance with a wide smile directed at his best friend.  

The following morning, Tamlin borrowed two of his horses, bidding you safe travels to the human lands. Daylight was soon disappearing as you travelled, urging the two of you to find shelter and a place to rest for the night. Lucien had tried to start conversations with you during your travel, you however gave short answers. Not because you did not want to talk, but because you were quite annoyed by his excessive teasing. 

Somehow it was becoming harder and harder to be around him without the urge to tell him the truth. Truth about how much you cared for him, how you long for him and how you wish he too would see you in the same light that you see him in. How you wished he would stop with the teasing and be serious for once. But the utter fear of rejection kept you from talking, because why would he ever see you that way? You were so different from each other. You were nothing like all the other females that surrounded him.  

You could not go through that, not yet at least.  

The two of you found a secluded place by a creek to rest for the night and wash up. You went to wash your hands and face whilst Lucien set the fire for a bit of warmth in the now chilly weather. Finding food was not necessary as Tamlin had given you enough food to last for the travel to the human lands.  

“Can I ask you something?” Lucien broke the silence once he finished lighting the fire.  

“Sure.” 

“Have I done something to upset you?” His question surprised you so much that you tensed up and stopped moving.  

“No, what makes you think that?” After a few moments to gather yourself, you answered.  

“I don’t know, you seem quieter.”  

“I just have a lot in my mind.” 

“Do you want to talk about it?” Lucien hummed; his question genuine.  

“No, no it’s alright.” The irony of it all was that it was him that has been on your mind so much.  

“Is my father overworking you?” His tone was playful, you knew he was probably smirking.  

“When is he not?” You looked at him over your shoulder, a small smile playing across your face. That had made him smile wider, chuckling lightly.   

Shaking the water off your hands you slowly stood up, walking towards the warmth of the campfire that Lucien had lighted. You sat by it, opposite of Lucien as you grabbed your pack to pull out two neatly wrapped sandwiches. Thank the mother for Tamlin graciously offering the both of you some food for your travels. Handing one to Lucien across the fire, you unwrapped yours taking a hearty bite out of it.  

After travelling for another day, you had finally made it to the human lands and to the manor where Jurian awaited you. Lucien told you would stay with them for only a day before returning home. His words made you realise that this was not ‘important business’ as Helion had alluded to. The trip was simply to greet his friends and spend some time with them. You had been played by both Helion and Lucien. The two of them will pay for this one day.  

Pricks.  

Act 5: Confessions 

When you finally arrived back home, you reported to Helion with Lucien that you were back before going straight home to have a nice long relaxing shower. The trip in itself was fun, a welcome reprieve from your repetitive tasks. However, the male you were travelling with had somehow managed to make you fall for him even more.  

You sighed as you let the warm water cascade over your body, rubbing your face. As soon as you were done with your shower you dressed in some comfortable breaches and shirt, letting your hair airdry as you plucked a random book from your shelf, plopping down on your armchair. Luciens birthday was soon approaching and Helion has already begun preparing a party for his only son. As much as you hated social gatherings you decided to still attend the festivities if only to hand him a gift and a happy birthday wish. You weren’t sure if you could handle seeing him being fawned over by pretty ladies, ladies that were not you.  

A groan escaped you as you could not focus on your book at all. Your thoughts were hyper fixated on the handsome male. How you wished everything would be less complicated or maybe you were the only one complicating everything around you. You realised that you would have to decide soon, to save your sanity. Confess to him or forever hold your peace?  

The day of Luciens birthday party came and you were a nervous wreck to say the least, your thoughts flickering between confessing or not. Maybe today was not a good day to do so, could you even handle the possible rejection. To make matters worse Helion has instructed you to dress formally for once and not be in your usual attire which consisted of brown breaches and a simple white shirt. Although you did not have to buy a dress for the occasion as Helion so kindly bought one for you.  

It was a stunning dress, revealing a lot of skin. Your skin that is marred by different scars. It just showcased you were not really a lady, but a warrior. The doubts came back tenfold as you stood in front of your mirror all dressed for the party. The golden cuffs around your biceps shone brightly, not bright enough to shoo the doubts away.  

The ballroom was full of people as you stepped inside, your eyes however quickly found Lucien. As you predicted he was surrounded by many ladies. One of them seemed particularly touchy, feeling up his arm. It awoke an ugly feeling inside you, you wanted to break her arm, maybe even rip it off her torso. This was a mistake.  

“Careful, you might burn the place down with the way you are glaring.” a bored voice that belonged to none other than Eris Vanserra, high lord of Autumn and the brother of Lucien. A cocky fae if you have ever met one. Your eyes met his, you soon noticed he was smirking at you.  

“I am not glaring.” your response only made him chuckle as he leaned in closer to whisper in your ear.  

“You are making your feelings obvious. Even a fool would realise it.” He moved away from your frozen body before lifting his glass and walking away.  

You could not resist clicking your tongue in annoyance. Eris had a talent at getting under peoples skins, a true fox. Even if you urged yourself to not fall for his words you began questioning yourself. Were you really being that obvious?  

As you looked up at Lucien, you found he was already looking at you a playful smirk on his handsome face. You started approaching him and he too politely bid his goodbyes with the ladies surrounding him.

“Happy birthday prince.” You handed him the gift you had prepared for him. It was not much, just a simple book about pegasuses. He had once expressed interest in learning more about the Day creatures. You had read this book before you gifted it to him, so you could leave simple notes inside and silly drawings in hopes of making him laugh while he read it.  

“Why thank you dear.” Lucien took the gift with a wide smile, tucking it under his arm.  

“Not even going to open your gift?” You tilted your head to the right, teasing him as he had already opened all the other gifts. 

“Would you like me to open it?” Lucien couldn’t help himself to tease you once again. You only rolled your eyes at him, crossing your arms across your chest  

“I’m getting a drink.” You turned, walking towards the makeshift bar with a sigh. Maybe a drink will help take the edge off and help you survive this night without utterly embarrassing yourself in front of everyone here.  

Lucien had followed you to the bar a bit perplexed by your sudden coldness towards him. Sure, you rolled your eyes at him plenty of times, but it was all in good fun. He could see that this time around it was different. You were growing tired of keeping this secret crush on your friend and his teasing did nothing to help you keep it. Once you got your drink you turned to Lucien looking him in the eyes.  

“We need to talk.” Was all you said before walking towards the secluded balcony that overlooks the garden behind the palace. You knew he followed you as you felt his body heat on your back. Lucien gently laid a hand on your upper back, stepping to the side.  “Everything okay?” For once his voice was devoid of his usual playfulness. He was utterly serious.   “I think...” You paused taking a deep breath before you continued. “I think I love you.”  

Luciens hand that was once on your upper back feel besides him in shock, you could feel his eyes staring at you as he stayed quiet. That was all the answer you needed; you scoffed humourlessly downing your drink.  

You wanted to walk away from him and as you made a move to turn around and leave, he took a hold of you, pulling you into his chest. One hand was across your back while the other find its place on your head, cradling it close to his heart. You could hear his heart beating just as frantically as yours was.  

“And here I was thinking I annoyed you too much to be around me.” He finally spoke, the playful tone back. You nearly groaned but held back as he pulled away slightly, the hand that was on your head was now under your chin urging you to look up into his eyes. “I think I love you too.” He smiled brightly at you.  

Hidden act: Sixth sense 

“How’d you know?” Eris questions Helion as they look over the ballroom to the balcony to see the two finally share a kiss.  “Oh, I didn’t know for sure, just had a slight hunch.”  “She’s not going to like that once she finds out.”  “Well then it’s best if she never does, isn’t it?” Helion said quietly a victorious smile on his handsome face.  

All dividers by @tsunami-of-tears

[buckymorelikefuckme]

so while sitting at the golf range, i saw a man walk by with his dog—a dilf type of man—and it got me thinking…

ari levinson x fem reader

idk the word count bc i wrote it on here but it’s not too long, i promise! **18+ ONLY** for implied size kink and mentions of praise kink and illusions to filthy thoughts ok thank ♡

you huff and stomp your foot after swinging and missing the ball, yet again. why is golf so hard? and why is the ball so tiny? it hardly seems fair to have a club that long and such a small target to hit.

you try to focus and remember what little you learned before coming to the range, but it’s sweltering out and you’re frustrated, so all you want to do is throw your club as far as possible. at least then you’d get something on the green.

someone clears their throat from behind you.

“what?” you snap as you spin on your heel, the glare you had ready to aim at the person smoothing out quickly once you see them.

it’s a man, tall and broad and tanned and very shirtless, torso glistening with sweat amidst the hair on his chest. his shaggy hair is tied back messily and his cheeks are ruddy beneath his beard from the heat.

“hi,” the man greets with a grin that has your tummy fluttering. “i was walking by,” he continues, waving at the sidewalk several yards away (which is another thing—what’s with golf courses being in the middle of neighborhoods?!) and you feel slight shame at having been caught throwing a fit. “saw you were having some trouble and thought maybe i could offer my help.”

you bite your lip. “that’s kind of embarrassing,” you mumble.

he shrugs. “everyone has to start somewhere.”

and that’s… actually very true and also terribly kind of him to say, so you agree to let him give you some pointers. he tries by just telling you how to fix your stance and your grip, all from a respectable distance, even going as far as showing you by mimicking it and how to follow through on your swings. but after you still keep missing the ball entirely or only hitting it a few feet and veering sharply to the right, he clicks his tongue, pursing his lips in thought.

“would you be okay if i show you in a more, uh, hands on way?” he asks.

you simply shake your head in response, because if you opened your mouth right now you’d probably start begging, and not just for golfing tips.

he approaches calmly, stepping up behind you. his body heat in proximity to yours doesn’t help with the summer sun beating down on both of you, but you can’t find it in you to really complain, especially as you hear him take a breath before he finally wraps his toned arms around you.

“left hand here,” he instructs, voice low in your ear, “right hand below it, yes, there you go. keep this arm straight, okay? like this.”

he does a few fake swings with you, his hands wrapped around yours. it’s damn near impossible to pay attention, but you’re really trying your best. mostly.

“okay, now, keep your eyes on the ball when you swing. don’t look out to where you want it go, just keep looking down at the ball. alright?”

you turn your head, looking up and meeting his eyes and your breath hitches when you exhale. he’s so big, easily dwarfing you with how close he is to you, the smell of his sweat hitting your nose and, instead of finding it gross, you find that it has you wanting to clench your thighs together.

“eyes on the ball,” he repeats, sounding a lot more gruff than before. it’s hard, but you tear your gaze away and do as he says. “good. feet shoulder width apart. that’s perfect.”

you fight a shiver and bite your lip again. this is not the time or place for your praise kink to kick in.

“i’m gonna let go and step back, then you can swing. okay?”

you nod, holding your stance and waiting for the all-clear, and when you get it you take a deep breath and slowly let it out, following what he’s told you and swinging… and you hit it straight down the green! it doesn’t go too far, but it’s the furthest you’ve hit a ball yet, and you let out a shocked, happy laugh.

“oh my god, i did it!” you giggle, bouncing on your toes and spinning to face him, catching his stare snapping up from your ass to your face. you’re suddenly extremely happy you chose some of your tightest athletic shorts.

“that was great,” he praises with a smile.

you let out another giggle, this one a bit higher in pitch from your nerves. “thanks for your help. i really appreciate it.”

“it’s no problem at all, i’m happy it paid off.”

“is there any way i could repay you?” you blurt, not wanting to miss the chance at extending your time with him, also not wanting to come across as too eager and missing by a mile.

he hums teasingly, pretending to think about it, then smirks. “how about we start with lunch?” he suggests, eyes roving down your body and back up. “and then i can give you another tip.”

he winks and you burst into even more giggles at the terrible joke, but you can’t even be mad about it. he looks quite pleased with himself at the sound of your laughter.

(and then, later, he looks smug as fuck at the sounds of your absolute ruin by him.)

…OKAY BYE😬😇😅😂♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️

[bubblergoespop]

audio rp is cringe yeah yeah blah blah all that stuff

the main reason it’s perceived as cringe is not only because of the poor quality of a lot of them, but also because no one is willing to take them seriously.

literally every piece of fictional, entertainment media created is just people pretending. the magic happens by convincing the audience that what’s happening in a film or a book is real. or (a better way of wording it would be) by evoking strong emotions, so that even though the media is fake, those emotions are real. and they compel the audience to immerse themselves further in this fake universe. if the audience allows it, that is.

if you were to watch a film and completely disregard the intent behind all of the scripting, acting etc and just view it as people playing pretend, then it’s very easy to see it as cringe. that’s why so many people say they couldn’t be an actor. by taking media seriously, it heightens the immersion and overall experience. with poor quality literature and films, it’s very hard to take them seriously, even if the concept is great. i think that can be applied to audio role plays.

if people would genuinely sit back and immerse themselves in the universes that these creators make, i think they’d find them really enjoyable and these audios wouldn’t be looked down upon as much as they currently are. sure, its hard to look past the poor quality of some of them, but this is such a niche branch of media with so little general acceptance, i think it’s fair to allow people’s audios to not have the same level of quality as media created by megalithic corporations. but no, they’re made fun of to the point where people create reaction videos to them, laughing at every word and refusing to accept that this is just another way of expressing a story (a more immersive way than others if you ask me).

also, some audio role plays are just cringe. that’s not gonna change. i can’t stand 90% of them bc the voice acting is so bad and unserious, and they’re practically just fan service for horny, lonely people 😭 this whole ramble is mostly about those few gems that are the channels ive managed to find amongst all the neko yandere mommy daddy mafia boss deep voice shit. there’s bad films and books out there that are cringey and fan-servicey, but one bad version of one of those doesn’t impact the public’s view of the rest. why does it only apply to this medium?

[svnnnne]

☀️

[actual-changeling]

"Joel?"

Ellie shifts slightly so she can look up at him, cheek squished against his biceps. The movie is long over, but the best part of the night is dozing off pressed against Joel while he reads or whittles away at something. Sometimes he even reads out-loud, voice rhythmic and soft, lulling her to sleep. He glances down at her and lowers his book, arm coming up to wrap around her.

"Yeah, baby?"

She chews on her lip, trying to find the words in her tired mind, and Joel's thumb gently rubbing her shoulder is the opposite of helpful, her eyelids fluttering shut.

"What's Tommy, like, to me? He's your brother but I don't. I don't know where I fit."

Joel stays silent for a litlte bit, seemingly properly thinking about her question, and she curls up tighter against his chest, pressing her face into his shirt somewhere below his neck. She's tired enough to fall asleep like this even with the lights on, and she chose this moment exactly because of that, knowing that the fatigue will prevent her from freaking out too much; so far, it's doing its job.

"Tommy is whatever you want him to be, babygirl, there's no pressure."

"I know", she sighs, answer kind in his typical Joel-fashion, but useless.

"I just don't know what to call him, to other people, I mean."

Explaining her relationship with Joel to the other children and teachers at school was already a task, and while the latter didn't question her answers, she's given up on trying to convince her classmates that Joel isn't her actual dad. The spark for this conversation had been an encounter with one of the newer arrivals, whom Tommy had introduced her to as 'my brother's kid', which, sure, probably the easiest way of putting it. But-

"Someone called him my uncle, and he didn't correct them. I don't know if-"

"If he's okay with everyone calling him that?"

Ellie nods, glad that he understands what she is getting at, and he holds her a little tighter as he pulls her further into his lap. Joel presses a kiss to her temple, her forehead, then her hair before settling with his chin resting on the top of her head, his hands rubbing soft circles into her back.

"You're my kid," he says plainly, "which makes you a part of his family, and since he's my brother, yeah, I guess uncle is accurate. I don't think he minds."

"You sure?"

The last thing she wants to do is upset either of them, and she and Tommy have actually been getting along quite well, bullying Joel and doing all the things he doesn't want either of them to do - in short, making him go grey twice as fast as before.

"Very sure."

(He doesn't want to tell her just yet that Tommy has been calling himself her uncle since day one, introducing Ellie as his niece in turn.)

"Alright."

Ellie wraps her arms around his waist when Joel lowers them onto the couch, safely trapped between him and the backrest, and she holds on tight even while she drifts off, sleep coming easily and gently, closing their eyes with a gentle touch. He will carry her to bed later, enjoying the opportunity to simply feel her breathing and alive against him for now.

"G'night, Joel." (Saying it doesn't sound right, but she doesn't have to, they can both sense it. Her friends calling him that no longer sounds quite as wrong.)

"Sleep tight, baby." (They all know, and Tommy is intentionally driving the point home, but he doesn't need to tell her; she knows. They both do.)

That's my niece, Ellie.

Oh, she's my brother's daughter.

Joel is her dad, idiot.

Must run in the Miller family.

Family, they all know, is way more than just shared DNA. It's the people you trust, who will keep you safe.

It's everyone you come home to at the end of a long, long day.

[and-bone-appetit]

Congrats on 100 followers @superbfirnacho 🎉🎉🎉!!! Adding the glow was fun :3

Ivy belongs to Nacho

Nightmare belongs to Jokublog

[quotidian-oblivion]

Damian, for Halloween, would dress up as either Superboy (Jon) or another one of his friends (like Colin or Maps) cuz they're underrated and he wants everyone to know that they exist and are awesome and calls people "uncultured" and "an embarrassment to the intelligent society" if they don't recognize his friends' costumes.

@sardonic-sprite

[itsjaywalkers]

offering you guys this because i have to start getting ready for work but this specific moment has been on my mind almost all morning and i don't wanna lose my mind alone

“Well, you could still be civil,” Regulus mumbles, mouth twisting. “You’re older than him, and Barty would get bored of trying to provoke you if he stopped getting a reaction out of you.”  “Why do I have to be the one to make the effort, huh?” James asks. “Why does he get to continue being a twat, while I have to—?” “Because I’m asking you to.”  James closes his mouth with a loud clack, jaw clenching a moment after and something ugly clawing at this chest. Both of them seem to be holding their breaths, and Regulus’ shoulders seem as stiff as James feels his own to be. “That’s not fair,” he murmurs in a low voice, what might be a warning lying underneath.  “I never claimed to be.” Regulus shrugs, feigning an indifference James knows isn’t there. He can’t even hold his gaze. “I’m always doing shit for you. Can’t you do this one thing for me?” “That’s not fair,” James repeats, a bit louder, a ringing in his ears.   “Jamie,” Regulus presses, softly and mouth nearly curved into a pout and James’ sight gets a bit blurry around the edges.  “Why?” he questions in a croak. “You’ve never minded that much. Or at least, not enough to do this to me. And you know the kind of stuff he says to me, the way he’s always fucking asking for it, I really don’t get why you—” “Because I don’t want my boyfriend and my best friend to constantly be at each other’s throats.”  Regulus clamps a hand over his lips as soon as he finishes the sentence, but it’s too late. It’s there, hanging between them, heavy and ugly and impossible to ignore. The ringing in James’ ears has become unbearable.  He wants to unsee it. Wants Regulus to let out a cackle, tell him it was a joke, take it back. Wants to curl into a ball on the floor, like he used to do when he got upset as a kid, and cry his eyes out. �� He wants to beg. He wants to destroy.  Boyfriend. Boyfriend.  The floor tilts under James’ feet, and he feels himself stumble. He’s not even standing. “What?”

[lonelychicago]

called my bluff ( and saw through all my tells)

buck/eddie | explicit | 2.3k words

Eddie says his name again, so… so soft and concerned and sweet falling from his lips.

Three minutes and seventeen seconds.

And Buck knows Eddie did CPR on him for at least a third of that time, if what Chimney told him after he got out of the hospital is right.

Eddie brought him back to life.

But it's only when Buck surges forward and cups Eddie's cheeks as he leans in for a kiss, that he feels he truly comes to life.

or;

eddie knows exactly how long buck was dead for and buck doesn't really know what to do with that information— so he does the logical and sensible thing and fucks the guy.

read on ao3

[rodolfoparras]

Thinking about Ghost and Soap in a polyamorous relationship (18+, MINORS DNI)

It’s to no surprise that your two boyfriends have rather contrasting personalities. One is for physical touch while the other is vehemently against it. It’s not like Ghost won’t ever hug you or hold your hand. It’s just that it can quickly become too much for him. Thats why you’ll opt for short side hugs and cling onto the cuffs of his sleeves when you want to touch him. It’s just a boundary he has and you chose to respect it.

So when it feels like everything in the world is going wrong and you need a reassuring embrace or a hand to hold, you’ll resort to the Scotsman who’ll happily ground his weight on top of yours and offer you a sturdy grip to hold onto.

That’s why it came as a surprise when you found out just how eager Ghost is to touch you in the bedroom, so much so he can barley contain himself.

He’s breathing heavily, hands shaking, seated in a a chair placed a bit further away from the bed that you’re laying in.

He doesn’t dare touch you though, knows his mind is too far gone to make clear headed decisions, hands far too eager to be gentle, knows his distance from the bed is the only thing keeping him from falling off the deep end.

So that’s why he assigns Soap to plant himself between your legs, watching as you roll your hips against his face, hands flying up to grab onto Soap’s hair as their names fall from your lips like prayers.

Ghost’s hand trails up the expanse of his thigh, gaze never leaving the scene in front of him as his palm lands on the spot where his cock is pressed against the fabric of his sweatpants and gently squeezes it.

His toes curl into the floor as he bucks up into his palm, a pathetic mewl escaping his lips as his dick finally gets some sort of relief after just watching you and Soap for so long. But his feather like touch quickly turns rough. His mind is too frantic to prevent eager hands from roughly stroking his dick. He’s tethering at the edge of relief before he forcefully pries his hand away from it.

His cock mourns the loss as much as he does “No, no, no, why? Why?!” He mutters to himself, chair rocking back in place as he throws his head back against the backrest.

He slumps in the chair, breath just as heavy and hands just as shaky as his gaze falls down to the spot where his palm once was.

The fabric of his sweats lay taut against his cock. It feels hard and heavy and it’s weeping continuously, leaving a dark spot on the otherwise bright fabric.

Not yet, he thinks to himself.

If he’s not able to handle his cock with care he won’t touch you yet.

[harukapologist]

rambling about Haruka

As an ND person I just hate how Haruka's character is either completely infantilized or reduced to a selfish, evil murderer, when, to me, he is so much more than that.

Especially the latter; I hate when any MILGRAM character is called evil because what's the point of MILGRAM, then? They're all morally grey! That's how they test us. But Haruka in particular because I feel like it comes from a place of ableism, intentional or not.

I'm not sure if I should put TWs, but well I talk about ableism, murder (obviously lol), childhood trauma and well... it's Haruka

Haruka's outburst in the VD and his implication of killing animals (I know it's basically canon but erm... i can explain why I think it's an implication later) (i just finished writing the post and actually i explained why at the bottom of the post but its not a full explanation so lol) are the reasons I see people calling him either evil or childlike, and while I do think that Haruka is stuck in a childlike state in some aspects, this is emotional dysregulation of an ND and/or traumatized person, to me.

The uglier sides of being ND/traumatized, the ones that get heavily stigmatized and seen as intentional or evil; I think this was a display of one of them. And I really wish to see more people focusing on Haruka's disability in the ways it can affect his communication and day-to-day life skills more than "oh, poor baby, he has a disability that makes him feel unwanted" without actually understanding the details of the disability and, well, the reason why it is a disability.

Like, the emotional dysregulation that comes with being autistic, which is my headcanon for him. The hyperempathy and literal thinking that might make him harder to communicate with, and get people frustrated with him more often.

That and being severely neglected; I think neglect is one of the lesser discussed forms of childhood trauma and the fact that Haruka was shown to be neglected as well as abuse really means a lot to me, because I think some people don't quite understand just how much neglect and isolation fucks you up.

All those factors combined are a recipe for an unstable, impulsive, clingy shell of a human, and him getting called evil for that really saddens me. It's important to remember that these MVs are extracted from the prisoners' own memories and thoughts. It comes from their perception of their surroundings, their murders, and their own selves. The manic look that Haruka has on his face for a lot of AKAA, for example. The makeshift shirt he's wearing, as if he's desperately trying to sew himself together into a normal person, the exhausted, frustrated look when he picks up the necklace, it's important to remember that this is how he sees himself. A monster who has lost control of himself. The line "I'll keep killing to be your good boy" was a shock, but the way he meekly apologized to Es at the end of his VD, I really think that shows that he feels guilty, that he wants to convince himself more than anyone that he was a good person, that he was really trying to be one despite how his unlucky life frustrated him to his breaking point.

As for his infantilization, it has already been addressed by many thoughtful members of the fandom and I'm grateful to see that, but I also want to say it myself since god knows I hate being patronized.

It feels very ableist saying he's just "someone stuck in a childlike mindset/age regressor" Yes, and how does age regression as a coping mechanism develop? Usually through prior trauma that makes you "stuck" at said age, and that can present differently. It can be longing and yearning for a simpler time, for an actual happy childhood, or having flashbacks to a traumatic event that happened at a certain age; it is not uncommon for trauma survivors to be "frozen" at the age their trauma took place.

I think both of these are the case for Haruka. Frozen at that moment, but trying to reduce himself to nothing but a little, unaware child to avoid reliving it again, relishing in the innocence and purity of his good younger times (emphasis on purity--Haruka's murder was by strangulation, yet there's a shot in AKAA where he's covered in blood. I know it's after he killed the animals, but he's in the stitched-together outfit here; I think there's more to this MV than just killing the animals. Since this outfit is... not very likely to be worn in reality, did the animal killing happen at all? Even if it did, I think this shot remains an indicator that he sees himself as impure; guilty. I have a LOT to say about the inconsistencies in Haruka's MVs, but I'll save that for later... Anyway, back on topic) It is NOT "having the mental capacity of a child, so being unable to date etc." Haruka has still lived 17 years, maybe even more, since he isn't too interested in remembering his age. How do you treat actual neurodivergent people if this is how you see him?

When I rewatch the MVs, relisten to the VDs, reread the interrogations and timelines, I see no evil, just an incredibly broken, misunderstood person.