#full view and it should be easier to read

[thepastdied]

Amped Up (p.2)

perv!virgin!eddie munson × virgin!fem!reader

MDNI 18+ ONLY.

Word Count: ~8k

<- previous part

The stickiness in Eddie's boxers began to irritate him.

He'd been sitting there for an hour, watching as you picked at random strings on his guitar. A piece of hair hung loosely as you kept your head bowed down, your eyes flicking back and forth between both of your hands.

"I'm gonna change into some comfy clothes." He broke you out of your hyperfocus. You looked at him and muttered a 'uh huh' before bowing your head again.

He quickly stood up and pulled his shirt down, walking backward toward the dresser on the other side of the room to avoid showing his front to you.

Eddie grabbed a pair of loose dnd pajama pants before he scurried into the bathroom, shutting the door a little too hard behind him.

"Fucking IDIOT." He slapped himself in the face and stared at himself in the mirror, both arms straining as he braced himself on either side of the sink.

He wants to ask you to stay the night. Figured you'd shower here, your naked body getting all wet and soapy in his tub. He'd fucking lick the soap off your tits if you let him. He'd beg on his knees to let him clean you with his tongue. He'd be a sneaky fuck and take your underwear while you're in the shower and cum on it. You wouldn't even notice, only thinking that you had a little too much discharge that day.

Maybe you would wear his boxers instead, and he wouldn't wash them afterward. He'd hold them to his face while he jerked off to your yearbook photo. Maybe he should cum in his body wash bottle. God… you'd be rubbing his cum all over your body. But then again, he lives with his uncle and wouldn't be able to buy new soap before he got home from work in the morning. There's that extra toothbrush.. he could-. Eddie, stop. He is sick and fucking twisted.

His dick was hard again. It throbbed and it hurt.

Eddie turned the shower on and stripped himself, deciding that he'd rather not clean his dick and whole groin area in the sink. His cum was everywhere, including his inner thighs.

He quickly rubbed soap all over his body and ran his fingers through his hair, lathering it up with shampoo before rinsing.

Eddie stepped out and shook his head, water sputtering everywhere, as he wrapped a towel around his waist.

"Eddie? You okay in there?" You tapped on the door a few times.

He walked over to the other side of the door, mustering up the courage to pop the question. He took a deep breath.

"Just got my shower done, hun. By the way, did you uh... wanna stay? I mean it's late and you could just continue your reading here." His voice was low, shaking anxiously.

You were quiet just for a moment, trying to decide if the 30-minute drive to the other side of town was worth it at this hour. He would have to also drive back home. You felt kind of bad making him have to take that roundtrip. Meanwhile, Eddie was biting the shit out of his thumb and tapping his foot impatiently.

"Hmm... why not, sure. Would be easier on you, right?" You shrugged and excitedly smiled before turning to go back into his room.

"-and..and! You should shower. Like, right now. The water is hot." He shoved his face in the crack of the door as he spoke, trying to catch you before you retreated back to his room.

"Erm.. okay." You tilted your head quizzically and lightly laughed.

Eddie sighed, fist bumping the air before shaking the nerves out of his hands. He quickly dressed himself and rubbed the towel through his hair.

Your head snapped over to the door as he stepped out wearing his pj shorts and a very loose plain tank top, his guitar pick necklace in full view and most of his chest tattoo standing out against his pale skin. You dropped your gaze to his pants as he reached to the top shelf of the closet right next to his bedroom door to grab you a towel. Air got caught in your throat when you realized he wasn't wearing underwear.

Eddie looked over at you, eyes widening just a bit when he realized where you were looking. He notices your thighs clench, and it makes his dick twitch. His face burned as he quickly grabbed the towel from the shelf and tossed it over to you.

"Whenever you're ready, sweetheart."

You fiddled with the threads of the towel before nodding and brushing passed him to go into the bathroom.

Eddie pursed his lips and turned to go into his room, abruptly stopping as he realized he left his clothes on the floor and not in the laundry basket. His blood ran cold and his heart hammered in his chest. With an ear pressed against the door, he listened for the shower to turn on. You didn't lock the door.

He paced back and forth right outside the bathroom door, fanning his face to try to cool off. You were staying the night. You were naked in his bathroom. He fucking came in his pants while looking at you, and those pants are on the floor in plain view for you to see. He had to get them.

But he couldn't stop thinking of all the things he could do while you slept. Could smell your hair or touch it, take pictures, jerk off to you. God, he could even cum on you if he was that sick. Maybe he was.

Eddie sat at the edge of his bed with his chin in his palm, leg bobbing up and down. He had to give you something to wear, but all his bottoms would be baggy on you. He wanted something tight, that could press right against your cunt and get stained with your juices while you watched the hot movie he had planned for tonight. He wanted to make you ache like he does.

He sighed, falling back onto the bed with his arms sprawled out and eyes closed as he willed his boner to go down. There were too many things going on in his brain right now. Fuck adhd. His eyes snapped open before he bolted to the bathroom door as he suddenly got an idea.

"Hey- y/n? I forgot my uh.. aftershave?" He cringed at himself. He didn't even shave today. Idiot. "Could I grab it real quick?" He pressed his ear to the door and held his breath.

"Sure! Doors unlocked!" You called out.

Eddie grabbed the doorknob with a shaky hand, pushing the door open and breathing in the steam that swirled in the air.

His bottoms were on the floor, right next to yours, and he thanked the gods that you couldn't see his cum stains. He lifted them up and felt the wet spot, looking down at your shorts. He licked his lips and picked them up, rubbing his cum on the inside of the crotch area of your shorts, before tossing his clothes in the laundry bin and grabbing his aftershave.

Eddie wheezed when he exited the bathroom, the adrenaline coursing through his whole body as he grinned. His dick was so hard that he swears he could feel the precum dripping down his shaft.

He rubbed a hand over his face before looking down at his hand and gasping loudly.

Eddie was holding your fucking underwear.

What the fuck was he thinking!? He began to panic, debating whether he should toss them back into the bathroom or-

No way in hell.

He looked at them, feeling the lace between his fingers and running his thumb over the wet patch on the soft crotch of your underwear. It was from when you were watching him just moments earlier, though he didn't know that.

"God fucking damn.." He licked his lips as his mouth watered, pupils blown wide as he stared at your wetness. Without a second thought, he brought them to his mouth, licking your juices. His breath shuttered at the taste, his whole body going hot and his dick throbbing. He bit down onto your panties, holding them in his mouth as his chest pounded. He clumsily pulled his dick out, rubbing his swollen head with the palm of his hand and then taking the panties from his mouth to place his cock on the wet cloth. Eddie pumped himself a few times, mixing your juices with his precum together.

"Bet you'd love to wear these panties.. all soaked with my cum. Fuck.." He hissed and leaned his head back against the wall, his hips bucking forward as he swallowed moans.

He jumped, his legs almost giving out underneath him as you turned the shower off. The sound of the curtain being pushed back causing him to literally run into his bedroom. Eddie fisted your underwear tightly before frantically looking around his room, deciding to shove them into the pockets of his pants instead.

"Uh.. Eddie? Could you grab me a shirt?" You said, voice muffled by the bathroom door.

He nodded to himself before rummaging through his dresser, pulling out a homemade Corroded Coffin shirt that was black and red tie-dye.

You were definitely going to wonder where your panties were, and he racked his brain to find a way to get them in there. He held his forehead, fidgeting nervously with the curls of his bangs before snapping his fingers and smirking.

"Here you go, sweetheart. Special shirt for the special lady." He tapped the door and stretched his arm inside as you giggled. The bundled up shirt was in his fist, while your underwear was just hanging underneath it by his pinky. He leaned his head as far as he could against the door, peeking to see you in the mirror.

Eddie almost groaned when he saw the towel tightly wrapped around you. Your tits were basically popping out, your nipples just barely covered. He let the underwear fall by unhooking his pinky just as you grabbed the shirt, not noticing it falling to the floor.

"Did you need some boxers too?"

"Uh.. no thanks, just gonna use mine." You replied.

"Well, alright." He nonchalantly said, but his jaw fucking dropped. God is on his side tonight.

He crouched down to the floor after you shut the door, taking deep breaths. He just risked your entire friendship, pulling sick shit like that. But he loved the thrill of it, and he planned to continue despite him almost dying of relief in the hallway that he didn't get caught.

Meanwhile, you were looking at your underwear with your eyebrows scrunched together. You didn't realize you got that wet while staring at the outline of Eddie's dick. You shrugged before putting your panties and shorts on.

You exited the bathroom while you dried your hair, peaking into Eddie's room to see him sitting on the floor with his box of vinyls, his fingers slowly flipping through them. He didn't acknowledge you as you sat on the edge of his his bed, legs almost touching his shoulder. He wasn't even looking for anything in particular, really, but didn't want to just be sitting on his bed daydreaming about you when you came in.

"Did you need any laundry washed?" He asked, eyes still focused on the vinyls.

"No, I just changed the shirt." You kicked your dangling feet back and forth.

You saw Eddie tense up, his hand that was thumbing through the vinyls pausing for a moment as he cleared his throat before continuing. You couldn't see, but he had looked up at the ceiling and mouthed a 'thank you' to whatever God was giving him the best night of his life.

His precum and spit was rubbing into your pussy right now. His entire face flushed at the acknowledgment, suddenly feeling his body begin to sweat.

" 'kay. So, you wanna watch a movie?" He twisted his body toward you and raised and eyebrow.

You noticed the tint of pink on his cheeks and squinted, leaning forward.

"Sure.. but, are you okay?" You placed the back of your hand on his forehead and then cheek. He was warm.

Eddie's eyes widened before he slapped your hand away and stood up.

"Psh, what're you talking about? It's hot in here." He turned away from you and huffed out a laugh.

You stared at his back and watched his shoulder muscles move as he rummaged through the many vhs tapes he owned, hands blindly moving through all the random movies.

You bit your lip as your eyes ran down the length of his body, his tank top bunched around his waist. A hot feeling spread between your thighs and you rubbed them together, swallowing down a moan as you continued to stare at him. His hair was mostly dry, the back of his shirt still wet. You could see some of his torso from how large the armholes of his tank top were, and his pj pants were tight enough to see the general shape of his ass and thighs.

"It's hot?" You asked, trying to continue your previous conversation.

Eddie shut his eyes and breathed out his nose, willing you to just drop it.

"Yeah. It is." He said flatly.

"Then take your shirt off." You immediately replied.

Eddie looked at you through the mirror that was partially in front of him where his guitar would usually be.

You weren't looking at him, instead looking at your toes as you ran them across his carpet.

"Take.. take my shirt off?"

You finally looked over at him and shook your head as you squinted your eyes.

"Yeah? You said you're hot and you're burning up. Was just a suggestion." You rolled your eyes and crawled up to the top of the bed to get comfy for the movie.

"It's alright.." He mumbled before picking out a random tape. He was supposed to play a dirty movie but chickened out. If he became putty from you looking at his dick, the movie would certainly backfire on him.

Eddie looked over at you. You'd picked up one of your books while you waited for him, knees pulled up so you can rest your book on them.

He gulped as he looked in between your thighs.

You were wearing those panties.

"y/n." He blurted, causing your eyes to meet.

"Can you help me plug in the tv?" He pointed to the area under his desk, even though he was standing way closer than you.

You, oblivious, didn't think twice before hopping of the bed and crouching down to your hands and knees, your ass in the air.

"I dont see the cord."

Eddie didn't hear you, too busy checking out your ass and the way your little shorts wedged in your pussy lips.

"Eddie? I don't see the cord." You turned to look at him.

"Oh, its there hun. Keep looking." He nudged his chin up for you to continue.

You huffed as you leaned further down.

He reached a hand into his pants and grabbed his dick. It was only half hard as he felt it grow in his hand. He licked his top lip as he moved to stand directly behind you.

"Mhm... maybe it's one of those cords to the right.'

You spread your legs a little further to support your body as you leaned to one side.

He sighed and smiled. Fuck, he'd love to rail you just like that.

Eddie pumped his dick fast, trying to get some precum onto his hand. He has been just torturing himself all night, hasn't he?

"Gonna get us some water, you just keep looking."

You waved him off as he walked into his kitchen.

Eddie pulled down his pants so his dick was out, jerking himself fast and clenching his jaw as he suppressed moans. Precum finally began to leak from his tip and he grabbed a cup, filling it with water before collecting it onto his finger and smearing it around the rim.

"God, I'm sick." He smiled mischievously.

He fisted his cock harder as he set the cup down, one hand holding his hair back as he looked down at himself.

"Bet you'd wanna drink my cum, wouldn't you baby."

"You'd lick it right up, just like a good girl. Cause that's what you are." He jaw went slack as he nodded.

"A good-" he pumped himself hard, thrusting his hips into his hand "-fucking" another thrust "girl" his knuckles were white with the grip he had on his hair.

He quickly pulled his hand away, taking a few deep breaths to calm down. He felt like a feral animal, pupils blown wide and eyes wild.

The precum dripped down his shaft and he took his whole dick this time, rubbing it on the rim of your cup.

"Eddie!" You shouted.

He fumbled with his pants as he tucked himself into the waistband before returning to his room. You stood there angrily with one hand on your hip, the other pointing to the cord which was connected to the TV.

"Dude! It wasn't even close to where you said."

He scratched the back of his neck as he looked to where you pointed.

"Sorry bout that.. Here, you haven't drank water today." He shoved the cup in front of you.

You rolled your eyes and took the cup from him before setting it down on his desk.

He eyed it, flicking his eyes between you and the cup.

You groaned as you layed back onto the bed, the wetness in your underwear making you remember how horny he made you.

You looked at him and down to his dick.

You could clearly see the outline of his hardened length, his dick tucked into his waistband.

You breathed out a hot breath, his eyes ripping from the cup and landing on yours as you kept staring.

He froze. Shit.

"Eddie, c'mon." You patted the bed beside you and bit your lip.

He shook his head from side to side dumbly.

"Why not..?" You innocently said.

"Cause I forgot my water." He mumbled, turning to exit his room.

You perked up from the bed and reached for his arm.

"Just have mine." You offered.

He shook his head again and you grumbled.

"What, you think it's poisoned or something?" You stood from the bed and grabbed the cup, drinking from the cup and pausing for a moment.

He closely watched you, his mouth slightly agape.

"What?" You licked your lips.

Eddie was frozen. He didn't move a muscle, besides his dick involuntarily. Your eyes instantly snapped down to it just as it twitched. His face got hot and you waved your hand dismissively.

"Whatever. Let's watch the movie, c'mon.. I got it ready." You slowly crawled onto the bed, your ass facing him as you arched your back, smirking as you heard him curse.

You were soaking and were positive it was seeping through your panties and shorts.

And it was. Because Eddie could confirm it.

You sat back against the pillows and motioned him over.

"I dont want to watch a movie yet" He said after a moment, noticing your hooded eyes roam his body.

"Why not?" You tilted your head.

" 'cause I want to show you somethin' on my guitar." He turned from you to grab it from his chair before climbing on the bed, sitting it on your lap.

"Again..?" You looked up at him, his face inches from yours as he leaned over to put the strap over your shoulders.

"Mhm." He replied quickly.

You gasped as he lifted it up and placed one of the sides directly between your legs.

"You okay?"

"Y- yeah.."

He moved the guitar again, eyes glued to your face as he rubbed it against your pussy.

Eddie saw the way your cheeks began to flush and how you swallowed.

"Gotta just get it in the right position.." He leaned over you again, his hair brushing against your cheek as he moved it to the side one more time.

You accidentally hummed and covered it with a cough.

"Can I have my water?" You squeaked.

He rolled his tongue in his mouth and had a smug smirk plastered on his face, nodding as he leaned over to grab it, and giving you a knowing look.

Your pussy ached for more friction and you could tell Eddie was watching as you squirmed uncomfortably.

"You sure you're okay sweetheart?" He leaned forward and brushed a small piece of hair from your face.

"Well, alriiiiiight. I wanna watch the movie now. Forgot what I wanted to show you." He dramatically shrugged and pressed play on the movie when you only gave him a confused nod. You sat there blankly for a moment.

"Fuck, it is really hot in here." He fanned his face, looking right at you. "-or maybe it's just you?" Now a cheeky smile.

You giggled and rolled your eyes at him, slapping his shoulder.

Eddie's smile dropped as he quickly licked his lips and swiftly pulled his tank top off, his tongue in his cheek as he squinted at you.

"You should be watching the movie, not me, hun."

He expected you to be flustered, but you weren't at all.

His breath caught in his throat when you shamelessly looked down at his dick and back to his eyes, laying your back against his pillows as you slowly shifted your hips up into his guitar that was still on your lap.

"Wh-wha.." His eyes studied you closely, watching as your clothed pussy rubbed into his guitar, the neck being squished between your tits.

You hummed again and didn't try to hide it this time. Eddie sat up onto his heels, his hard-on very obvious now as he watched you grind up into his guitar.

"It.. feels good." You whispered.

"Yeah, I bet it does." He replied just as quietly.

He grabbed the edge of the guitar that he came on and placed it over your pussy, lightly pushing it down. You moaned quietly and closed your eyes.

"Oh my god, sweetheart." He puffed out a breath.

"Mmm.." You continued to roll your hips as you watched him marvel at you with half hooded eyes.

"You know.." He started.

You stopped your movements and waited for him to continue.

"No, no.. keep going. Yeah, just like that.. good girl." Eddie pushed it down against you again and gave you a seductive smile as you opened your legs more.

"You know.." He said again. "I came on this guitar, right over there-" He motioned his head toward the empty seat. "- while I watched you read a couple hours ago. You're so pretty, the prettiest girl I've seen." Your body shivered at his confession, your hips moving a little faster.

"Shh, shh.. slow down. Look, baby." Eddie moved the guitar so you could see where he came and your mouth watered.

"O-oh my god.." You ran your fingers across the now rough surface where is cum stain was.

"I've done other things too." He scooted a little closer to you, legs touching and one of his hands still holding the neck of the guitar.

"w-what did you do.." Your eyes were glassy as you panted and waited for his answer. Your juices were soaking your folds.

"You really wanna know?" His voice was low and you nodded while watching his lips.

"I licked and sucked on your panties. The ones you're wearing right now." His eyes looked down as he spoke.

You gasped in shock and moved your hand toward your waistband. His jaw was set hard as he watched your fingers slide into your shorts and over your panties, chest moving up and down with each of his deep breaths. You skimmed your fingers over your clothes pussy and mewled.

"And.." He put his face closer to yours.

"I rubbed my precum all over them. Right where your soaking pussy is." Eddie looked deeply into your eyes, pupils so large his eyes looked black.

You opened your mouth to speak but nothing came out, instead grabbing his hand and moving it to your core. He tossed his guitar to the other side of the bed, his fingers lightly grazing over your puffy clit, the wetness coating his fingers even through the fabric. You moved your hips up and he pressed his hand down harder, thumb rubbing circles into your sensitive bud.

"Oh, you want me to rub my precum into you?" He taunted, his body almost pressed into you now.

"u-uh.. uh huh. I do." You stammered.

Eddie lifted a hand to your face.

"I used this hand to jerk off and rub in the precum." He wiggled his fingers.

You licked your lips and eyed his long fingers.

"Can I.." You started.

He cut you off my sticking his fingers in your mouth, groaning when your tongue swirled around and your lips sucked them in.

"Fuck.. such a good girl... One more thing sweetheart."

You removed his fingers from your mouth and eyed him.

"I also put some on your cup." He carefully said, hoping it wasn't out of line.

"Oh. my. God." You gawked at him in disbelief for a few moments. He was disgusting, and it made you unbelievably feral. You wanted to jump his fucking bones.

So you did.

You roughly pushed Eddie onto his back and climbed onto him, a cheeky smile never leaving his face as you straddled him and ground down into his dick. His hands gripped onto your ass hard and making a loud slap. His moans echoed throughout his room as you rolled your hips over his dick. If he listened close enough, he could hear your pussy squelch.

"Mmmm.." You placed your hands onto his chest and arched your back, your head rolling back as you slowed down your movements.

Eddie's breathing was hard, his thighs clenching under you as he watched you moan and use him. Sweat began to collect on his face, his curls sticking to his face and a few on his lips. He never thought in a million years that the girl of his dreams would be getting off on humping his dick.

And here you are.

"E-eddie.. gonna cum.." You mewled as you picked up the pace.

He abruptly stilled your hips and you groaned in frustration.

"Not yet... want you to.. want you to cum in my mouth." He was flushed from his chest to his face as he shyly looked up at you.

His entire body was buzzing and, honestly, he mainly stopped you because he didn't want to cum. You huffed out a laugh and bit your lip, nodding your head that you understand.

"Yeah.." He nodded back, sniffling before he breathed out of his mouth in a sigh.

"If I cum in your mouth.. will you cum in mine?" You gave him a sultry look.

Eddie mumbled a few curses before scrambling to sit up and grabbing you by the back of your neck, roughly smashing his lips against yours as he used his other hand to push you harder into his cock.

You moaned into eachothers mouths, your fingers moving into his hair as he bit at your bottom lip and ran his tongue along it.

"Want you first, sweetheart." He mumbled into your mouth, your mouth muffling most of it.

"Mhm.." You nodded into the kiss as he rolled you onto your back.

Eddie's tongue explored every area of your mouth that he could, raking one of his hands up your body and smoothing over your chest. Your fingers were woven into his hair, clinging to the nape of his neck as you pulled him into you. He ripped his lips from yours to attack your neck with bites. You inhaled sharply and rolled your hips up as he continued to nip and lick as your soft skin, his groans vibrating against your throat.

“Been wanting this for so long..” He breathed into your neck, nuzzling into your damp skin that was covered in a sheen of sweat and his spit.

“Just wanna…” He huffed and mouthed at your collarbone before licking a stripe from one side to the other, his hand pulling down the neck of the shirt so he could sink his teeth into the swell of your breast.

Your breath hitched in your throat when he began to knead the pillowy flesh and buck his hips up into you. Eddie groaned against your neck and you hummed in pleasure while you held his face against your chest by his hair.

“Just wanna fucking… fill you up with my cum. Make you go a whole day with it leaking down your thighs.” He roughly rutted against you. “Wanna cover you in it..”

He began to slide down your body, placing sloppy wet kisses down your stomach and over your shorts.

Eddie kissed your clothed cunt, a needy open mouthed one, and moaned loud enough to make you jolt at the feeling of it against you. He snickered, opening his mouth to stick his tongue out, moving it over the wet patch on your shorts. The material was so thin that his spit was already seeping through and onto your folds. You whined and moved your hips up to meet his mouth, but he pulled back and roughly pushed you down with one hand. Eddie wrapped his arms around your thighs and continued his assault on your pussy with his mouth.

“Please.. take them off.” You begged, placing your hands on his forearms that were wrapped around your thighs.

“Mhm.. just cause you asked nicely.” He mumbled against you and nodded, smirking when you shivered.

Eddie hooked his fingers onto the waistband of your shorts and pulled them off, leaving your panties.

“W-wait-“

“y/n.” He gave you a stern look. You shut your mouth and pursed your lips as you frowned.

“Good girl.. fuck. You are just so good, you know that?” He huffed and shook his head with a grin, rubbing his hand over the soaking panties.

You wiggled around as he teased you, biting your tongue to not make so much noise.

“You made a mess in your panties, baby. Our juices are all mixed up in here.” He lightly slapped your pussy and looked at you through his bangs, eyes dark and brooding.

His tantalizing made you ache even more, your walls clenching around nothing. You yelped when he nibbled at your clit through your panties. His breath felt much hotter without the fabric of your shorts. He flicked his tongue over the soft thin cloth, kissed, licked more, and sucked. Your head was already spinning. Your thighs shook and you whined before he pulled away from you, lips glistening.

“Oh, were you about to cum?” He tilted his head at you. Your hands balled into fists and your teeth clenched.

“You.. you fuc-“

Eddie ripped your pretty lace panties to the side and licked a wide tongued stripe through your folds, your juices making a squelching sound against his mouth.

“O-oh mY GOD.” Your moans were pornographic, fingers fisting roughly into his hair.

He moaned against you and huffed out a laugh before swirling his tongue around. Your breathing became faster and faster.

“Baby.. please. Need to drink you up..” He breathed into you, your legs going slack in his arms and feeling numb.

Eddie’s fingers dug harshly into the meat of your thighs, his hips grinding into the mattress as you rolled your own up into his mouth. He whimpered when you said you were close, his own adrenaline kicking in even more as he was nearing the moment he could swallow your cum.

“Please.. please.. please..” He repeatedly mumbled and whined against your pussy, begging for you to give it to him.

He stuck his tongue out as far into your hole as he could and moved his pillowy lips over your clit. You lurched forward as he tongue fucked you, babbling curses as your legs shook uncontrollably, his tongue continuing to explore your insides. You swear you saw white and lost your hearing for a good moment as you cried out, climax hitting you like a freight train.

You lightly shoved his head away, heaving as you let your arms give out and flipped back onto the bed. Your body twitched from the overstimulation. His shirt you wore was clung to your body due to the thick layer of sweat on your skin, your hair all disheveled and wet. You were numb and in a daze as you stared at the ceiling and tried to catch your breath. You didn’t even feel the bed sink as Eddie moved up to you, his head leaning over yours and long curls ticking your face.

“You okay, sweet puss?” He smiled, his lips crooked and swollen, his hair a lot messier than yours.

You opened your mouth in disgust and furrowed your eyebrows, swatting his hair away from your face.

“Sweet pus-“ You sputtered.

“Yeah, cause your..” He motioned to your pussy.

“Okay- okay… I get it. Anyway, we are not done.” You waved your hands and slowly sat up, giving yourself a minute to fully collect yourself before looking him over. So. Fucking. Hot.

You moved onto your knees, his Corroded Coffin shirt draping down to your thighs and making you feel not so bare. You leaned forward and rubbed your hands on his knees, slowly working up to his pelvis. Eddie hissed when you dragged your nails across the skin of his torso to his collarbone. You placed your finger there, pushing him back lightly so he could sit up against his pillows. You caressed his chest, shoulders, and neck, feeling goosebumps spread across his skin. You kept one hand on the nape of his neck while you let the other wander down to his pants, groping his sick over the cloth of his pjs. His breath staggered hot against your ear, quiet hums coming from his throat.

Eddie turned his head to kiss you and you leaned away, shaking your head and smiling. It was your turn to torture him and he knew it, suddenly regretting his previous actions. He gulped anxiously, eyes glassy with lust.

He whimpered when you latched your lips onto his neck and sucked hungrily, the hand that was on his cock beginning to palm him harder. You messily kiss up to his jawline and across to the other side, the stubble a clear indicator that he lied about needing the aftershave. You smirked as you pulled back, looking at his hazy puppy dog eyes.

“Aftershave, huh?”

Eddie chewed on the inside of his lip and shrugged, looking away from you. “Can I.. uh” His eyes roamed his room. “Can I get a kiss?”

He looked up at you when you didn’t respond, his lips turning into a frown.

“Oh my god.. why do you have to look.. fuck.” You huffed before pressing your lips onto his, his arms leaving your sides almost immediately and holding you close.

You pulled away from him to kiss down his neck and chest, pushing your ass up as you licked down his body, resting your cheek against his clothed cock and looking up at him with doe eyes.

Eddie’s nostrils flared as he sharply inhaled, his chest rising when you nuzzled into his swollen head and kissed it.

“Awe.. got some precum already.” You licked at the cloth and gripped his shaft as you mouthed at his tip, salty fluid seeping onto your lips.

“H-holy.. fucking shit-“ He crossed his arms behind his head and leaned it back, his upper body going slack while his legs tensed underneath you. He looked at you through half hooded eyes, his pupils blown wide as you sloppily mouthed at his cock, and panted out praises.

You sat back on your heels and moved beside him. Eddie looked at you quizzically.

You pulled his guitar across the bed and placed it between your legs, quiet moans coming out as you rubbed your hips up into it.

Eddie palmed himself and groaned, licking his lips while he looked at where your pussy was meeting the edge of his guitar. He could see your slick smearing against the surface.

“Lick it.” He said, nodding his chin down toward the guitar. “Where my cum is, lick it.”

You nodded and wrapped your hand around its neck, moving your hand up and down slowly in a jerking off motion before laying it flat on the bed and licking where your hands just were- just like you did on his cock.

Eddie’s legs squirmed, spreading wider as he shoved his hands past his waistband and lightly pumped himself, thumb smearing his precum around his tip.

“Gonna jerk off while I watch you, hun.. keep going.” He sighed and bit down on his lip as his eyes stayed trained on your body. Your back was arched and ass in the air, shirt barely covering your skin.

He groaned with his jaw clenched when you licked down the neck and to his cum stain, licking around in circles. His breath was erratic as he stroked faster, eyes trailing over to your half empty glass of water.

He grabbed it with a shaky hand and reached it out to you.

“This too..” He quietly muttered, almost embarrassingly, as he continued to jerk off.

You smirked and grabbed the glass, finishing it off with one big swig before swirling your tongue around the rum and tasting his cum, moaning.

“O-oh my.. f-fucking hell” His whole body stretched out and he slid down the pillows, only half sitting up now. He let his head slack to the side, closing his eyes as he fucked up into his fist.

“Wanna- ahhmmm” Eddie whimpered and gasped for air as he was approaching his orgasm.

“Wanna fuck your throat darlin'… please, please. Need to cum in you.” He sputtered quickly, reaching for you with one hand while he jerked off with the other, his fingers only able to graze your arm.

“Oh.. is pretty body desperate now?” You tilted your head mockingly as he pouted and nodded, scooting up to him and leaning to place your hands on his thighs. You kneaded into his flesh and slid them up to his dick.

You pulled his waistband down and bit your lip, eyes widening when his dick popped out.

“God.. Eddie.” You gasped, hungrily dipping your head down and messily kissing his tip, one of his hands suddenly flying into your hair as he stuttered.

Your lips were all wet and sticky with his precum. He looked down at you, mouth slightly agape as his breath faltered.

Eddie grabbed his dick and pushed the tip harder against your lips, smearing it around like he was putting on lipstick for you.

“I could cum in your lipgloss, huh?” He whispered loud enough for you to hear.

“Look so pretty with it on, baby. Could taste me all day while in school..” He mumbled as he swiped the tip of his cock back and forth against your bottom lip.

You hummed and nodded, sticking your tongue out to lick the fluid off your lip and moaning at the taste. He laughed in pleasure like a mad man.

“Woah-ho-ho… ahh- you're so fucking perfect. My fucking sweetheart, just look at you. Jesus H CHRIST.” He grinned as you flattened your tongue, slapping his cock against it, and lifted his lips up to push it deeper into your mouth.

You closed your lips and gently sucked, your tongue working in slow circles around his swollen leaking head. Saliva began to dribble down his shaft and onto his fingers, coating his big rings and making them shine as he jerked himself into your mouth.

You moved his hand and pushed your head down more, his cock going further into your mouth until it met the back of your throat.

He moaned, head hitting against the wall as his pelvis flexed and his fist tightened in your hair.

“Shit shit shit… you can do it, Princess. Just hold it.” He encouraged you as you gagged and garbled. He knew you were inexperienced. But so was he.

You bobbed your head a few times before pulling away and gasping for air, tears rolling down your cheeks.

Eddie smiled proudly at you, humming as he wiped the tears and pushing you roughly back down.

“Mmm.. took me so well. C’mon, do it again. Proud of you, baby.” He slowly pressed your head down once he was in your mouth again, humming as you wiggled your tongue.

You sucked and licked as deep as you could without gagging for a couple minutes before taking him deeper, craving more praises from him. You held a deep breath as you moved your head back and forth to shove his cock into your throat.

He was about to say something but stopped, only stutters and loud pants pushing past his lips.

Eddie’s fist pulled your head back just a little before pushing it down again, repeating the movements a few times before beginning to fuck your throat. His flushed face was covered in a sheen of sweat, droplets rolling down his temples and into his hair.

As much as you wanted to open your eyes, you couldn’t. You were too focused on taking him as deep as he was pushing you, and flattening your tongue against his shaft. He fucked your throat as he whimpered and breathed erratically, fist shaking in your hair as he got closer to cumming. You moaned around him and gagged.

He pulled a hand up to his face and covered his eyes, scrunching them together as he struggled to hold in his orgasm. You’d only been sucking him off for not even ten minutes and he was already going to bust. He was embarrassed, to say the least. You noticed that he was silent for a moment and pulled off of him, sputtering and gasping as you finally were able to take in air.

"Eddie.." You looked at him with lust filled eyes, wrapping your hand around his cock and stroking him, fingers tightly gripping.

"Where do you wanna cum?" You asked, pushing your face closer to his.

"Here?-" You pointed to your mouth, sticking your tongue out. "- or here?" Then to your pussy.

Eddie looked like he was drunk, his eyes half closed and mouth lazily hanging open.

"I… I wanna fill you up everywhere, baby.." He softly said, sighing in pleasure as you jerked him faster.

"Ahhhh shit… fuck.. Mm, just like that-" He pulled you in for a kiss, licking into your mouth and groaning.

"Your…mouth. You're g-gonna swa- SHIT…" He mewled when you bent down and took his entire length into your mouth, sucking hard and bobbing your head, gargling saliva at the back of your throat as you drooled messily all over his dick.

"I can't.. mmmm- shit. I'm gonna cum."

"Uhhhhuh.. that's g-good. That feels a… w-wow.. amazing. Fuck.. FUCK"

His jaw dropped, eyebrows furrowing as he watched his cock disappear into your mouth, filthy slurping sounds filling his bedroom. You felt his dick harden even more, knowing he was very close. You hummed and moaned, hollowing your mouth a bit and making the lewd sounds louder.

"You're s-so beautiful, so good..taking me so good.. gonna fill you-..mmmm "

"g-gonna feed you my c..-cuhhm- oh shit oh shit Jesus fucking-" A guttural moan bubbled in his throat before it filled the room, incoherent babbling spilling from his lips as he road out his high. His hot cum spilled over your tongue and you immediately swallowed it as it continued to flow into your mouth. His window was open, and you suddenly heard the dog across the way starting to bark.

You sat up and coughed, not used to blow jobs at all, and swallowed a few times to clear your cum filled throat. It was a lot.

Eddie stared at you, his tired dark brown eyes glossed over and unmoving. You looked back and felt a blush creep onto your cheeks. The high had faded, and you were suddenly all too aware that you just had a very intense session of foreplay with your best friend. You were both inexperienced, so this whole thing was kind of intimate to you. You couldn't speak for him, though, and it made your stomach twist with anxiety.

You looked down to his softening cock, pulling his waistband up to cover it. He hissed at the contact, still sensitive from the intense orgasm.

"S-sorry.." You pulled your hands back to your lap.

"No, sweetheart, c'mere.." He held a limp arm out, motioning for you to lay with him.

Eddie's lips pulled into a grin that widened the closer you got to him. He rubbed your arm soothingly when you laid your body against his, propping yourself up on one arm and playing with his hair with the other.

"Pretty girl.." He muttered, lifting a hand and holding your cheek, rubbing his thumb on your cheekbone.

You scrunched your nose and looked away. His gaze was so heavy.

"That was craaazy." He chuckled, rubbing a hand over his face and sighing as he turned his head to look at the ceiling.

You hummed and nodded in agreement, still feeling self conscious. Eddie's eyes flicked over to you when you didn't say anything after a while, eyebrows pinching in concern.

"Hey.. what's up?" He pulled you in with both of his arms so that your chest was pressed into his, your head laying against his tattoo.

"Don't want anything to be weird for us… you know." You mumbled, finger poking at the random freckles on his chest.

He huffed at a laugh and looked at you like you were stupid, pushing hair from your face and pressing into your forehead with his finger.

"Wow. You're dumb. Like, more than me." He blew a raspberry and shook his head, a wide smile returning to his face as he looked at you lovingly.

You smiled and hid your face. It's Eddie.. of course he wouldn't let this ruin your friendship. You couldn't let your nerves take over. You felt dumb, as he said, for even allowing yourself to think so.

Eddie took a deep breath and sat up with you in his arms. He cradled you and bowed his head down, hair curtaining around both of your faces as he rubbed his nose against yours, pecking your lips a couple times before pulling away. You moved off of him before he rolled off the bed. He stretched and groaned, twisting his body around and rolling his shoulders before squinting at the clock on his dresser. His eyes widened.

"Shit! It's 1am!" He put a hand to his head and looked at you in shock. "We were at it for almost 2 fucking hours!?"

You giggled and shrugged, holding a pillow tight to your chest.

"We have to sleep.. got school in the morning and still need to swing by your place in the morning for clothes.." He walked to the edge of his bed to fix the pillows, head still shaking in disbelief at the time.

Eddie gave you a glass of water and a clean towel so you could clean yourself off, slapping your ass before you slid into the bathroom. He prepared his stuff for the following morning and shut off the TV.

Once you were both tucked into his bed he set his morning alarm and stole a few glances at you. You were in deep thought as you looked at the posters on his walls, head resting against his pillows. He wanted to wrap his arms around you and nuzzle his face into your neck. Instead, he turned off the light and silently laid beside you.

"Sweetheart…" He whispered, toes wiggling against your foot.

"Hm?"

He was silent for a moment.

". . . I'm hungry."

"Eddie. Go to sleep." You groaned and laughed into the pillow.

He dramatically whined and kicked his feet before turning on his side. It was silent for about twenty minutes and you were sure he was asleep, until he silently scooted himself backwards so you were pressed into his back. You smiled to yourself, warmth spreading inside your chest. You leaned your head into his shoulder blade and fell asleep shortly after.

🖤

Taglist:

@brainwashedkitten

[andmineisyellow]

I'll be honest, my biggest takeaway from the sneak peek wasn't, "Yes Pen, read him for filth!" It was, "Oh Pen is totally shame spiralling out of control." Because yes, Penelope has every right to be upset with Colin and tell him why she is upset, but most of the emphasis in this scene is on just how much Penelope hates herself. She doesn't believe Colin when he compliments her dress (a direct parallel to scenes Pen has had with Marina and Edwina in the past), she calls herself a spinster even though she's only 19 (I'm willing to bet Portia refers to Penelope as a spinster at some point before this scene), she assumes Colin sees her as an embarrassment, and again she points out that even though she managed to change her wardrobe, she is still a laughingstock.

This whole scene does way more to demonstrate Penelope's insecurities than it does to paint Colin as someone who needs to grovel for forgiveness. If anything, Colin is handling the situation maturely. He openly communicates his feelings, he doesn't deny what he said, and it's clear he wants to work through the issue.

Penelope is so unhappy with herself that she's taking it out on him more than she should. It's easier to blame him for the one thing he said rather than force herself to look inward. But I think once Colin comes to her again with his plan to help her find a husband, this is going to shift. Penelope will be put in a position where she will have to reflect on those insecurities and Colin will be the one with her on that journey.

Which brings us back to Nicola talking about Penelope putting Colin on a pedestal. He might be off of that pedestal after what he said last season, but she still doesn't view him as a fully flawed human being yet. Once Penelope forgives Colin at the end of 3x01, it's going to open up her eyes and allow her to see Colin as a full human being and as her equal (not as her idol). This is how we get "You're my mess," and "You're the imperfect man of my heart."

[the-delta-quadrant]

here are some things that would help me as a blind person regarding online accessibility (mobile for me):

- all apps should display all text sizes (iphone goes up to 310%)

- all apps should display bold text if it's turned on in the system settings

- there should be a standard for text size; if my text size is 100% across all apps, then an instagram post, a toot, a text message etc. should all be the same size, no more "instagram and tumblr are always slightly smaller for some reason" bs

- an app's formatting (such as buttons, alerts etc) needs to be compatible with large text! large text doesn't help me if all the buttons are suddenly overlapping or i can't get out of an alert window because they forgot to program the ability to scroll. no more overlapping shit, no more missing shit, no more "i can't get out of this window without closing the app and changing my text size"

- usernames, channel names, all word and sentences should be fully visible even with large text! i don't know what channel "# ge..." is on discord. find a way to make it visible, either make it multiple lines, give me the ability to side scroll or make it move like a spotify song title

- make sure things that shouldn't be affected by large text aren't! if i need to scan a barcode and my large text settings make it unrecognisable to the machine, that's unhelpful

- all apps should have a light mode and a dark mode! certain conditions make it easier to see light mode, others make it easier to see light mode

- dark mode should be as high-contrast as light mode, i.e. white on black, not white on dark grey

- probably have other options beyond regular dark and light mode

- on apps that let you customise your profile a lot visually, give the option to view it in your phones' settings, i.e. if someone's got a dark red on black serif-font tumblr, i wanna be able to make it into a white on black plain font tumblr

- alt text should be accessible without a screenreader

- there should probably be a dedicated field for video descriptions too

- apps that give hashtags a different colour than the rest of the text should let you choose the colour

- all apps should let you view someone's profile picture in full size

- this one is specific to instagram: let us fucking zoom in normally! why do i have to do finger gymnastics just to stay zoomed in and read text on a picture? the zoom should work the same way it does in my photo library and literally everywhere else

most of these shouldn't be that hard and they would make my life a hell of a lot easier. i'm tired of running into issues because i'm too blind to read regular size text.

i WISH it was as simple as "describe your images" and "no fancy fonts", which is something people can easily choose to do to make things a little more accessible, and if they don't, i can unfollow and surround myself with people who post accessible stuff.

but all of the things i listed are things done my developers and not regular users, it's stuff i can't just ignore by surrounding myself with people who care about blind accessibility if the people who create the spaces don't care about blind accessibility.

[ghostlyferrettarot]

Hello guys! I'm Kat. I am tarot and astrology reader. I use my psychic abilities and knowledge in tarot and astrology to help you discover and get to know yourself. I am opening my paid services to help myself pay my university expenses as well as my studies supplies.

✨️Your reading will be sent in about 1-3 days and this will be either through email or Tumblr dm, you choose (in exception to the full natal chart reading that will be send through email or other way of your choice due to be a pdf file). All readings are in depth.To book a reading please send me a tumblr dm.✨️

🌟All payments are made through paypal, although im open to use other method if it's easier for you and im able to use it🌟

✨️If you are from Argentina the payments can be made through mercado pago✨️

🧡✨️You can see some of my clients feedback in here✨️🧡

💐Thank you in advance💐

🔮Tarot readings:

If you want a personalized reading with topics and questions of your choice, you can DM me.

♣︎General tarot reading: $12 or $5500 Arg pesos.

-Your current energy.

-How can you improve right now.

-Advice and guidance from your guides about a situation of your choice.

♣︎Channeled Messages from your person. $15 or $6500 Arg pesos.

-What they want to tell you?

-What is their perception of you?

-How they feel about the situation.

-Advice from your guides about the situation.

♣︎Your next 6 months: $15 or $6500 Arg pesos.

-What's coming your way?

- What you should focus on in the next months?

-How can you improve in the nexts months?

-Advice and guidance from your guides for the next months.

♣︎What's coming in your career/studies?: $15 or $7500 Arg. Pesos.

-How is your career/studies energy right now?

-What changes are coming your way?

-How can you emprove and embody this energy?

-Advice from your guides about the situation.

♣︎What is my calling/career?: $15 or $7500 Arg. Pesos.

-What abilities do i have?

-How can i express them and put them to work?

-What careers are more suitable for me?

-Advice from your guides about this.

♣︎Your Spirit Guide: $15 or $7500 Arg pesos.

-Who is/are the guide/s trying to communicate with you? How is their energy towards you?

-Ways they communicate with you.

-What are their messages for you?

-Advice from them for you.

♣︎Your Divine Family/Tribe: $15 or $7500 Arg pesos.

-Who are they? Have you already met some of them?

-Is this your first lifetime together? When are you gonna reunite/meet with them?

-Characteristics of your connection with them.

-Advice from your guides about your situation.

♣︎How is this specific situation evolving?: $18 or 8000$ Arg pesos.

-How is the energy of the situation?

-Where is it leading?

-Is worthy to continue this situation?

- 2 question of your choice about this situation.

-Advice and guidance from your guides.

♣︎Your life as a celebrity: $18 or $9000 Arg pesos.

-What you would be famous for?

-How your day would look like?

-How your fans/admirors would be?

-How will the media view you? Would you have any scandals?

-How to step into this energy?

♣︎ You and Your Celebrity Crush Relationship: $18 or $9000 Arg Pesos.

-What would they think of you?

-How it will be a relationship with them?

-Will the connection be long-lasting?

-What the media and fans will think of the relationship?

-What will their close circle think about the relationship?

♣︎What's next in love?: $18 or $9000 Arg pesos.

-Who is this person?

-What are their intentions towards you and the connection?

-Their first impresion of you.

-Personal characteristics and hobbies of this person.

-Advice from your guides.

♣︎Your Divine Femenine energy: $18 or $9000 Arg Pesos.

-Which is your divine feminine energy?

-When do you connect with this energy?

-How can you step into this energy?

-How is this energy improving?

-Advice from your guides about your feminine energy.

♣︎Your soulmate: $25 or $9000 Arg pesos.

-How your connection will be.

-How they see you.

-Their intentions towards you.

-Physical characteristics and hobbies.

-Their overall energy.

-Their love language.

-First impression their close ones will have of you.

-Advice from your guides.

♣︎Your Past Life: $25 or 9000$ Arg pesos.

-Who were you in this past life? How others view you back then?

-How was your life back then?

-What past life skills/talents can you develop in this one?

-Who from your past life has a message for you?

-What lessons you need to learn from this past life?

-Advice from your guides and higher self.

🌌Natal Chart readings:

★Personal placements (Sun, moon, mercury, Venus, Mars and rising): $15 or $7500 arg pesos.

-Personal planets as well as the houses they are in.

★Synastry/Compatibility Chart: $25 or $9000 Arg pesos.

-In depth analysis of the synastry aspects in yours and your persons chart and how this affects your connection. (It will be an in depth pdf, 20-30 pages, file with the analysis that you will be able to read whenever you like).

★Solar Return chart: $25 or $12000 Arg pesos.

-All planets aswell as the houses they are in.

-Houses and signs they are in.

-Rising and Midheaven.

-Aspects of the chart.

(It will be an in depth pdf file with the analysis, 20-30 pages, that you will be able to read whenever you like).

★Full natal chart reading: $35 or $14000 Arg pesos.

-All planets as well as the houses they are in.

-Houses and the signs they are in.

-Rising sign, Midheaven, Lilith, Chiron and Fortune.

-Asteroids: Fama, Sirene, Juno, Pallas, Ceres and Vesta. (If you would like another specific asteroid, you can let me know and we can add it).

-Aspects of your natal chart.

(This will be an in depth pdf document, 31-40 pages, that you will be able to read when you want; i would also include pictures and advice that can help you understand your chart better, for example pictures of how to dress according to your venus when we get into the venus part, ideal jobs for your midheaven, etc.)

💐Thanks for taking your time reading and i hope we can work together! Have a nice day💐

[fluentmoviequoter]

Creepy, But Special

Requested Here!

Pairing: Tim Bradford x goth!fem!ME!reader

Summary: Tim sees a woman in a cemetery after dark and can't stop thinking about you. When he calls for the M.E. and you arrive, he gets a chance to find out more about you.

Warnings: spoilers for 5x22, r is an ME and performs an autopsy, mentions of past judgement and insults, fluff, Tim gets kinda flirty even while there's a dead body between them?

Word Count: 2.5k+ words

A/N: The request said shy reader, but she's pretty open with Tim so I didn't include it in the pairing dynamic. R is very professional with the other characters, though, so that could be considered shy, I think. And, as always, ignore the Chenford gif🤭

Masterlist | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info/Fandom List

“Kojo, c’mon,” Tim urges as Kojo tugs the leash away from Tim.

Kojo has been taking his time on this walk, more of a stroll to sniff everything than a walk, but Tim is ready to get home. When Kojo returns to Tim’s side and begins trotting again, Tim rewards him with a whispered compliment: “There’s the best boy.”

As they near a cemetery, however, a cat meows inside the open gate, causing Kojo to stop again. Tim shakes his head but watches Kojo as his ears perk, and he looks into the narrow gate opening.

“No, Bazinga,” someone says from inside the fence. The cat meows again, and this time the voice - pretty voice, Tim’s mind corrects – laughs. “How are you going to do a séance if you can’t talk, Bazinga?”

Tim and Kojo step to the inside edge of the sidewalk for a better view. Tim should know better than to let his guard down here, but when he realized that the creepy cemetery cat had supervision, he needed to know more. Standing at the fence, he can see a gray blanket spread across a small clearing. You’re sitting on the blanket with a large book open across your lap. A black cat, Bazinga, presumably, roams around you before jumping onto your shoulder.

Tim can’t help but be intrigued by you. He can tell you're young in the dim light of a nearby streetlight. While he’s simultaneously drawn to you and put off by your odd choice about where you relax, Tim lets his logic win and snaps for Kojo to heel beside him. With one final glance at you, Tim leaves you in the dark but remembers your voice long after you ask your cat, “What do you think about the black cat stereotype and how well you fit into it?”

When Tim wakes the following morning, his first thought is you. Part of him wonders if he imagined you, a young woman dressed in black reading in a cemetery in the middle of the night, yet he can’t get you off his mind even as he rises and gets ready for work. Now that overtime has been approved, he has to focus on catching the masked individuals who attacked Aaron and Celina just hours after he saw you.

Once he hears Aaron and Celina’s statuses, it’s easier to forget you and your cat. When they find Roy Gracco and prepare to enter his house, Tim doesn’t even remember his previous cemetery-side walk.

Tim leads the alpha team into Gracco’s home, prepared for anything, but is surprised to find the house clear and cold.

“Drop the gun! Drop it!” he demands as he rounds a corner.

“I think he’s dead,” Nolan calls.

Tim approaches him slowly and confirms that Gracco is dead, 10-5-5.

“It’s a trap,” Nolan realizes aloud.

“Abort! Abort! Abort!” Tim yells. As he exits Gracco’s house, he radios, “Control, I need the bomb squad to the target house for a full sweep. Send the M.E. and TID out here, standing by for a priority search once the house is clear.”

“Yep, got it,” you reply to the police dispatcher.

Your work phone buzzes with a message containing the address where you’re needed. The van is prepped and ready to go, so you only grab your phone, keys, and seal-wrapped black coveralls. When you arrive at the house, dozens of police officers, crime scene investigators, and city officials are waiting.

“Sergeant Grey?” you ask as you approach him. “Has the house been cleared?”

“Almost. Bomb squad’s doing a final walk-through,” he answers. “The officers who found the body are inside and ready to assist you.”

“Dispatch said the air had been cranked down to delay decomp. Do you know if anyone touched the thermostat?”

“No. Sergeant Bradford made sure the house stayed in the same condition as how they found it.”

“Perfect.”

“All clear,” one of the bomb squad members calls as he exits. “Your people are free to enter.”

“Hold up,” Grey calls to TID. “Let the M.E. get what she needs first.”

“Thank you,” you call over your shoulder as you approach the front door.

“Hi, I’m Officer Chen,” an officer greets you as you enter. “Bradford, M.E.’s here.”

“Sergeant Bradford, I hear you preserved the scene and the body. Thanks,” you tell him as you set your bag down.

Tim doesn’t reply, too intrigued that you, a woman who hangs out in cemeteries with her black cat, is the M.E. That and your age, to be more precise.

“What’s the temperature in here?” you ask, looking up at him.

“Fifty-eight,” he answers quickly, shaking himself out of his thoughts and reminding himself not to stare.

“Fifty-eight,” you murmur as you scribble something on your paper. “Then I’m putting time of death between 1 and 2 a.m.”

“Before Aaron and Celina were ambushed,” Lucy says.

“How can you limit it to an hour?” Tim asks. Not because he’s overly interested in your method but because everything you say and do interests him. He wants to hear you talk again. To him, preferably.

“The air temperature and confinement slowed decomp but also affected the blood coagulation. Because of that, and knowing the average maintained temperature since death, I can calculate it with a bit more accuracy,” you explain.

Tim nods and looks at Lucy, who seems to know why he took a sudden interest in forensic science. He has a dozen more questions he’d like to ask you, very few of which are about the case, but you frighten Tim Bradford just enough that he falls silent to let you work.

“You’re not supposed to be here,” you say suddenly.

“Is everything okay?” Tim asks.

“Yeah, just this little guy.” You straighten and extend your hand to show Tim a moderately large spider. “There’s a web in that windowsill, he must have been confused by the temperature drop.”

You cup your hand as you walk toward the window and gently place the spider back on its web. Tim watches every little move you make, trying not to be convinced that you were in a cemetery and are still dressed in black merely because you’re creepy.

“So, based on positioning, lividity, and blood coagulation around the wound in his hand, I’m confident that my estimate of 1 to 2 a.m. today is accurate. More, I’d say that he was unconscious when both the bullets and the knife entered his body. There’s no sign of jerking or resisting, and the stiffness in his spine suggests that he’s been positioned like this for closer to a day.”

“A day?” Tim repeats. “How could he be in one position for nearly ten hours before being shot and stabbed?”

“Was he alive when he was stabbed?” Lucy inquires.

“Yes,” you answer her. “He didn’t react in any way to that pain and the lack of naturally dried blood around the wound, so he was likely already in a state of statis. His heart rate was likely low, the temperature was impeding the healing process, and, as I’m sure you know, bullet wounds don’t close on their own.”

“Then why lead us here?” Tim wonders.

“This is related to the cops that were attacked this morning?” you ask. “I heard about the riddle.”

“Is there anything else you can tell us?” Tim asks.

“I don’t think you’ll find much in this house other than him.”

“I agree.”

“If Gracco is a patsy,” Lucy interjects, “then we should be asking why him?”

“He’s a felon with a history at Mid-Wilshire,” Grey answers as he walks in.

“Sure, but there are hundreds of guys like that. So, why Gracco? Did they pull his name out of a database or is there some kind of connection?”

“You think it’s personal?” Tim asks.

“Look, if I was gonna go to the extreme of targeting police officers, why not take out some of my enemies along the way?”

“That’s gotta count as a goth point,” you murmur.

“Costs us nothing to run with that,” Grey points out. “Get back to the station, check Gracco’s known associates, family, coworkers, anyone he did time with that might hold a grudge. Run them against people that we arrested. And say a prayer while you’re at it.”

“Actually, Grey, can I escort the M.E.?” Tim asks.

You look up from your spot on the floor, and Tim looks away quickly because he suddenly thinks that in that position, you look like a cat.

“Do that,” Grey agrees. “We don’t know what we’re dealing with. Chen, Nolan and Harper are at the station and ready to assist you.”

“Yes, sir,” Lucy replies as she exits.

“Why do I need an escort?” you ask once you’re alone with Tim.

“Because we don’t know what we’re up against and I don’t want to find out the hard way that we’re closer than we think,” he answers.

You nod as you stand, then remind Tim that you have to prepare the body to take back to the morgue. He nods and steps aside, hands clasped, happy to watch you.

“Got it,” Tim says into his phone. “Pine’s got Metro mobilized; do you need me to come back?”

You pull your gloves on as Tim ends his call. He steps toward you and says, “I’m clear to stay with you.”

“Why?” you ask.

“All of our bases are covered. So, if you find something, we need to know.”

You shrug as you concede. It’s not that you don’t want Tim with you; you are confused about why a decorated Metro Sergeant would want to keep you company while you perform an autopsy.

“If you want a mask or anything, they’re in the black case behind you,” you tell him.

“Of course it’s black,” Tim muses.

“Meaning?” you inquire as you mark your incision points.

When you look toward him, Tim gestures to your outfit. You certainly don’t dress like other medical examiners. Or act like them, for that matter.

“What do you have against black?” you tease. “Or are you just jealous of the Converse?”

Tim smiles as he tips his head and replies, “I would rock some studded black Converse, right?”

“Totally. I’ll hook you up with my shoe guy. He might want to see you in the heeled version first, though.”

“So, why’d you become a medical examiner?” Tim asks as you begin the first cut in Gracco’s chest.

“What do you think?”

“Love for science?” Tim guesses.

You lift the scalpel and narrow your eyes at Tim. “Most people just assume I’d like to dig around in dead people.”

“Why? Because you wear black and pick up spiders?”

“Amongst other things.”

“What other things?”

You shake your head and argue, “You have to tell me something about you first.”

“I like the Dodgers.”

“Wow,” you drawl. “Mark me as shocked and surprised.”

“I’m a cop, there isn’t much time to do things worth telling.”

“Fine, I’ll go first but you better have something when I’m done.”

“Yeah, of course. Just, one more thing. How old are you?”

“Twenty-seven. Don’t you dare say oh, you look older, or wow, you must be smart, I really can’t take hearing that again.”

“I didn’t think you must be smart. You clearly are,” Tim replies.

“Good answer. You still want to know about me?”

Tim nods, and you tip your chin down to continue the autopsy as you speak.

“So, you can tell that I like black and spiders… I feel most alive in the fall, Halloween is my favorite day of the year. And cats! They’re much better than spiders because you can watch horror movies and Beetlejuice with them, and birds bring out their violent sides. But cats will also read witch books with you and listen to music, hang out in cemeteries. All the stuff that gets you labeled a ‘creepy weirdo’ is more fun with a cat.”

“Has someone called you a creepy weirdo?” Tim questions.

“More times than I can count. But I have another list that’s longer.”

“A list of what?”

“The coolest tattoos I’ve ever seen.”

Tim hesitates before he asks, “On dead people?”

“Some,” you admit honestly. “Most of them are on live people, though. They’re not as cool when the skin underneath isn’t moving or filled with blood.”

“Interesting.”

“Is this where you call me a creepy weirdo?” Tim shakes his head, and you add, “I guess I’ve just always felt drawn to stuff like that, and it makes me happy, so why should I care what people say about that?”

Tim leans against a table across the morgue from you as you continue to work. He asks a few questions as you work, but the autopsy is as simple as expected. Gracco was killed. There’s no additional evidence about who killed him or why, and his body is relatively clean and well-preserved.

“Sorry I couldn’t be more help,” you tell Tim as you discard your gloves. “If it was a full moon I may have been more help.”

“Because you like full moons, I assume.”

“It was actually a weak werewolf joke, but yes, I do.”

“Does Bazinga?”

You freeze beside Tim before you look up at him to ask, “How do you know my cat’s name?”

“You said it,” Tim answers.

“No, I didn’t.”

“Not today, uh… I saw you in a cemetery a few nights ago.”

“I knew there was someone out there! Bazinga thought it was a ghost.”

Tim nods, unsure of how to keep the conversation going. You both want to keep talking, but there’s something Tim can’t ask, and you aren’t sure you can answer. So, you trace the shape of a crescent moon on your wrist to encourage yourself.

“Will you go out with me?” you ask quickly.

Tim opens his mouth to answer, but you add, “You don’t have to! If I’m misreading this or you’re just being nice and really do think I’m crazy, I understand.”

“I’d love to,” Tim answers when you fall quiet. “Maybe Kojo and I could join your next cemetery picnic.”

“You don’t think that’s creepy?”

“Really creepy,” Tim answers dramatically. “But you like it, so I’d like to see why.”

“What’s your shoe size? I’ll bring you some black Converse.”

“With studs?”

“Wouldn’t you be the stud?”

Tim laughs as he follows you into your office, but his phone rings with an update from Sergeant Grey and he quickly exchanges numbers with you before he leaves. Later, you remember that you never asked who Kojo was, and the picture Tim texts in return to your question makes you smile in your lonely office.

“How nervous are you?” you ask as Tim and Kojo meet you outside the cemetery.

“Probably not as much as I should be,” Tim answers with a smile. “Just don’t tell me we’re eating with someone, uh, someone in there.”

“No, of course not.” You open the gate and joke, “We’ll ease into that.”

“Where’s Bazinga?”

“Bazinga is a cat. In the picnic basket.”

You help Tim spread your favorite blanket on the grass and join him and Kojo as you set the food out. Tim watches you and realizes you’ve never been creepy, scary, or a weirdo. You’re special and if this spot beside you has been left open for him by people underestimating or judging you, he’ll make sure you know how special you are.

[fifarts]

“it’s nice to know you work alone” 🪐⚡️

(click for better quality, more info and alt text below cut)

another jupeter piece and some recommended songs from my jupeter playlist!

I have synesthesia which means my brain associates certain audio and music with different colors and shapes, so I worked a lot with the colors on this piece and especially the background to kind of translate some of the visualizations I get when I listen to these songs together! If you read the lyrics of both you’ll see why I heavily associate them with juno and peter!

I have another piece that I’ll hopefully post circa S3 that goes along with There’s No Secrets This Year (the most jupeter song ever) and a comic for Waltz in E-Major, Op. 15 “Moon Waltz” by Cojum Dip that I really want to work on soon! My playlist is still a work in progress and I’m currently in the process of moving my spotify accounts around but as of right now the full playlist link is here: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/6SP3sUjzSTBCPhouCe4xXY?si=277Hd2pqTGmRzPLcSx6dvQ

I organized it partially by season so hopefully it’s easier to understand the character connections of the songs. (The first song of the playlist is an instrumental guitar piece that my dad’s guitarist is doing as a side project which is super cool and you should definitely check out his stuff (and also please send some streams his way) If you love vocal-like sexy guitar riffs and weird time signatures and video game-esque music, Vision Swords is for you lol)

Alt Text:

A lineless digital art painting of Juno Steel and Peter Nureyev from the Penumbra Podcast. Juno's face is visible in a profile view as he holds his blaster in his outstretched hand. Juno is a short Black and South Asian person with dark brown skin, a scar across his nose bridge, and black hair that is lit with purple lighting. Juno has short locs and a high undercut with a star design shaved in. He is wearing a tan trenchcoat, a white button up, and black tie. He is also wearing a cochlear implant, hot pink star earrings, and hot pink acrylic nails. Peter stands behind him with his face partially obscured. He is a tall South Asian man with medium brown skin and dark shoulder length brown hair. He is pointing his blaster and wearing a black suit jacket with gold details. The background of the painting is hot pink, neon purple, and bright blue. The background colors mix in with one another in a perspective blur from the center of the painting. [end alt text]

Thank you so much for the support while I’ve been on hiatus! I’m going to college this fall for Robotics Engineering and I’ve been dealing with some pretty big health problems as well (I literally just got out of surgery today lol) which has left little time for art (fanart or otherwise) 😅 Love ya!

[fourmoony]

fizz pop lolly - James Potter x Fem!Reader

smut, barely any plot. p in v. unprotected sex. language. james is a bit of a perv.

18+ work, minors DNI.

not proof read. 2k words.

...

It’s pervy.

James knows it’s pervy, but he can’t stop himself. You’re not even aware he’s ogling you, gone in your own world that he imagines has fairies, rainbows and butterflies floating around in that pretty little head of yours. He’s sure if anyone caught sight of him staring, they’d catch on immediately, know just how sick and twisted his mind really is because his eyes are dead set on the hemline of your skirt, his mouth open awaiting flies. You’re resting your hands on the table on the far side of the library, supposedly reading a textbook for a source you need for your essay on Care of Magical Creatures, and the way you’re bent over ever so slightly has your skirt rising from its already high placement.

It's sick. It’s downright fucking twisted. You’re so sweet, so innocent, such a pretty soul – for fucks sakes you run study groups and tutor first years in your rare free time – and all James can think about is how he wants to walk up behind you, put his hand between your shoulder blades and push until you’re flat against the table, flat against his dick.

But.

But it would be criminal not to look, right? Not to enjoy the way you pop your hip to the left when your legs obviously get tired of having stood up for so long. He swears he can make out the bottom of your arse cheek and he about chokes on his own bloody saliva. Your legs look so smooth, like he could run his hands up and down them, listen to the quickening of your breath and feel nothing but silk. God, he’s deranged. Guilt swirls in his stomach with lust, a never-ending battle that he shouldn’t be staring – actually, he should probably go over and tell you he’s likely not the only one looking, for your own sake – but that he physically cannot bring himself to stop.

He can’t stop thinking about you, about how you’d feel wrapped around him, soft and pliant under him, the sounds you’d make. He’s hard as a rock, blood rushing from his head to his dick and he finds it’s getting easier and easier to keep looking, guilt free, with the lack of blood up there.

He’s both grateful and ready to raise hell when Sirius appears behind you, returning from his hunt for a book he’d needed for a prank, and blocks you from James’ view. Sirius takes a seat across from James and he groans inwardly. Sirius’ stupid head is blocking your perfect arse from James’ view and that won’t do.  

“How can I see the book if you’re sitting over there?” James tries.

Sirius looks up, brows furrowed, “Uhm, you don’t need to? I’ll just tell you once I find the spell.”

“Yeah, but- Like, I need to- wouldn’t it be better if I checked it? Made sure it was the right spell?” James stutters like an absolute fool, and he wants to bang his fucking head into the desk.

Sirius catches on immediately. James wants to die as his best friend looks around, spotting you behind him. His head whips around at breakneck speed, his eyes wide with mischief. James jumps into action, trying to cover Sirius’ mouth before he makes an announcement that James Potter is a massive fucking pervert in front of the entirety of the Hogwarts Library. Sirius dodges, laughing maniacally, breathless and sputtering and James just panics and shoves the table as hard as he can into Sirius’ stomach and ribs.

He heaves a breath of air, winded, eyes wide and accusatory. Problem solved, James thinks, whilst Sirius is doubled over, head no longer blocking his view. Until he looks up, eyes searching, and finds you sauntering over, brows furrowed. Shit, he thinks, shit, shit, fucking shit.

“What are you two up to, now?” You ask, brow raised and a hint of a smile on your lips.

And oh god, your lips. So full, so soft, so pretty. James feels like he’s the one who’s had a table slammed into his ribs. Sirius still has his head on the desk, groaning and gasping for air. James couldn’t give two shits when you take the seat next to his, give him your full attention, cross one of your legs over the other and sit oh so bloody pretty. Godric, James would like to ruin you.

“Oh, nothing. Just studying.” James tries his best at casual.

You look at the table in front of you with amusement. There’s no study material. Just empty sweetie wrappers, a couple marbles and the one book Sirius needed for a prank. James flushes red. Fuck.

“Hm. Clearly.” You say, eyes twinkling.

You’re so beautiful, James thinks. So fucking pretty.

“Well,” You chirp when James literally can’t think of anything to say, “Next time Sirius is about to out you for staring at my arse, I’d go for a silencing charm over bodily harm.”

With that, you stand and turn, and James is pretty much face to face with said arse. You bend a little, pretending to fix your socks and James thinks he’s going to die. Literally. Die. Like, on the spot. You’re so sweet, so innocent – or so he thought. He’s in over his head. Truly. His brain simply short circuits. You leave, walking away, swinging your hips as you go and James is up and out of his seat, hot on your heels. You feel him at your back, smile to yourself. Sirius holds a finger up to James as he leaves, only to be thwarted on the back of the head by Madam Pince as she passes.

James follows you through the hallways, up staircases, until he realises, you’re headed for the seventh-floor corridor. It’s dark and abandoned and a well-known area for hooking up. His heart rate accelerates. If he’d have known you’d catch him staring and bring him here? He’d have felt less guilty about it and done it way more often.

You stop and turn to face him at the end of the corridor, swallowed by shadows but he can still see the bright shine to your eyes, the wideness of your smile. You’re waiting, playing games and James always wins.

“You were showing off on purpose?” He asks, crowding you against the wall.

You look up, bite your lip and fuck James is pretty much gone already. Your head tilts, hair sprawling over your shoulder, picture of innocence. James knows now that it’s a farse. And he’s determined to break the act, have you begging, pleading, destroyed for and by him. Your hands, dainty and a little cold, reach out for his forearms, pulling him slightly towards you. He smiles, a hint of knowing in his eyes that has your knees buckling.

“Don’t know what you’re talking about, Jamie.”

James tuts, towering over you. He presses his lips to the side of your neck, inhales your perfume and fuck he’s hard all over again, “You know fine well what you were doing to me.”

You hum, hands running up his arms to rest on his shoulders, sliding around to the nape of his neck and grabbing a fist of his hair. “Maybe.”

James smiles, nips the skin at the nape of your neck. He pushes his weight against you, you sigh in delight. His hands are everywhere, along your waist, the tops of your thighs, your tits. It’s not until he slides his hands up your skirt, desperate to feel the flesh of your arse that he realises you’re not wearing any underwear and he almost comes on sight. His breath is shuddering, mouth pressed against the skin of your neck and dear Godric, he thinks, how could he have ever assumed you were anything other than a dirty, filthy slut?

“I really wanted to take my time,” He huffs, pulling back until he’s centimetres from your lips, “But right now the only thing I can think about is ruining you.”

You nod, a huff of breath like it’s been punched out of your lungs at his words, “Please.”

With that, James kisses you. Hot and heavy and dirty and fuck he’s never been so glad to have been perving on you. You moan when he lifts you up, hands firm on the backs of your thighs, like you weigh nothing and keeps you propped up with his hips against the wall. It’s all consuming, having him everywhere, all around you. His smell, his sound, his tongue searching your mouth, his lips, his teeth, his hands, his dick, pressed so nice against your bare cunt.

He shifts, you squeal, head hitting against the brick wall.

His fingers trace you, teasing, only for a second, before he’s knuckle deep and you’re keening, bucking against him, fingers digging crescent moons into his shoulders. James swears he’s in heaven, the way he has you – desperate and soaking fucking wet. All because of him.

“James,” You moan, one hand cupping his neck and cheek, your hooded eyes are looking into his, “Need more. Need you. Please.”

James isn’t going to make you ask twice. Maybe when he has more time. Next time he’s going to take his time. Next time he’s going to be patient, watch you fall apart, make you beg. At least, he hopes there’ll be a next time. He thinks he might die if he never gets to see you like this again. Your head is thrown back, neck exposed, breaths coming in pants as he whips himself out of his trousers. He lines himself up, you keen, and he takes a deep breath before he slams up into you.

You practically scream, clenching around him, legs tightening around his waist. James swears he sees stars. You’re so warm, so tight, and you’re whimpering and bucking against him. He feels hot and heavy and he’s hitting spots you never imagined. The breath punches from your lungs when he sets a fast and hard pace, hands gripping at any skin he can find. He’s moaning into your skin, grunts and profanities and you’re sure that anyone who comes within a mile of the seventh-floor corridor will hear the sinful noises coming from the pair of you.

It’s hot and dizzying and your skin feels like it’s on fire with every thrust that he bullies into you.

“Fuck, you’re so hot, so tight…” James is aware he’s just speaking his mind, unfiltered and uncaring. He has no shame, not when he’s slamming into you like it’s his sole purpose on this earth. Maybe it is, he thinks.

You groan, clenching around him, “Jamie, I’m so close.”

“I know, I know, let go, pretty girl.” He coos, reaching between you to rub at the swollen bundle of nerves that’s been crying out for attention.

You spasm, coming on the spot at the stimulation and his words. He’s two seconds behind you, an embarrassingly loud moan escaping him, but he can’t find it in him to care when you’re still whining and bucking against him. You’re both seeing stars, pressed together, still fully clothed, breathless, and floating down.

Realisation sets in, the silence of the corridor is deafening.

Until you laugh.

You giggle maniacally like he’s said the funniest thing in the world and James frowns in confusion. He lets you down, tucks himself back into his pants all whilst you’re still giggling. It’s not until you stop, breathless, and reach up to press a kiss to his lips that he smiles dumbly.

“Took you long enough, Potter.”

James’ head spins. You’re there, standing in front of him, two seconds after being completely ruined, whining, and bucking on him, innocent act completely gone. He’s so dopily happy at the way you’re smiling up at him.

“How long-“

“The time you were staring at me eating a fizz pop lolly.” You answer for him.

This time, James laughs. Six months. You’ve known for six months that he’s been innately obsessed with you.

“Fucks sakes.”

You giggle again and fall into his arms, he pulls you backwards, pliant in his arms as you laugh and stumble all the way along the hallway.

[sailorrhansol]

Storm Breaker | Teaser (l.jh)

❀ Pairing: Lee Jihoon x reader  

❀ Summary: It’s a known fact Lee Jihoon is one of the best pilots the Jaeger Program has. The only problem? He can’t keep a co-pilot to save his life. He thinks you’ll just be another Ranger in the rotation, but you are an unpleasant surprise. 

❀ Word Count: ~23k

❀ Genre: SciFi, Rivals to Lovers  

❀ Type: Pacific Rim AU, Smut, Angst

❀ Rating: 18+ Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging in and reading this content. It contains explicit content and any minors discovered reading or engaging with this work will be blocked immediately.

❀ Warnings: TBD

❀ A/N: A fun little project me and @daechwitatamic decided to collab on :) coming to a Shatterdome near you soon. Also - this is set in the Pacific Rim Universe but I'm writing it in a way that you will not need to have seen the movie to understand.

❀ Also in this Universe: Cherry Bomb by @daechwitatamic

❀ Disclaimer: Disclaimer: All members of Seventeen are faces and name claims for stories. Any scenarios or representations of the people and places mentioned in works are not representative of real-life scenarios. Moreover, none of my works accurately reflect, represent or take a stance on the nuances of Korean culture, cities, people etc. Seventeen members are not Seventeen culturally, intellectually, physically, or representationally in my stories, and should be considered name and face stand-ins for made up characters.

Main Masterlist ❀ Tag List Request Form ❀ Ask ❀

Read Full Fic Now

“You can and you will. Your drift compatibility is 98% and you have similar fighting style and come from similar machines. You’ll start Conn-pod training tomorrow.”

“Don’t make me partner with her. I don’t like her.”

The Marshall stands. “One day you might learn that if you give people a chance, you’d like what you find.” 

“Marshall-” 

“That’s all, Ranger.” 

The air feels heavy as Jihoon leaves the Marshall’s office. He stops on the command deck, his eyes flickering over to the windows. The glass is floor to ceiling all the way around, giving the tower a 360-degree view of the pacific ocean. Blue stretches out as far as the eye can see, backdropped by the shining silver of the city. 

Boats bob on the water, shifting back and forth on the dark surface. Air teams go back and forth, working in the aftermath of Chan and Wylie’s successful kaiju destruction. Jihoon can see the toxicity on the surface of the water, an oil slick that he knows the exact pungent smell of. 

Trailing to an observation window, he stares with unseeing eyes. How many times had he stood up here and provided commentary to his friends during a fight? He didn’t frequent the command deck, but sometimes it gave him perspective. Or he was a little worried about his friends, especially when they were taking on higher category kaiju. 

Jihoon chews on the side of his lip. He’s talked Wylie and Chan through plenty of bouts before. He remembers sharply the terror of the fight that had changed all of their lives over a year ago, watching as the hull of Fang Striker was breached, the screams of terror as Wylie took a talon to the stomach, nearly killing her. The aftermath of Chan’s grief.

A chill breaks out over his arms. Jihoon knows he isn’t cut out to sit through something like that again, to try and get a panicking pilot to focus and get to safety. He’s not made for an advisory role. Not built to watch pilots come and go, completely operating out of his control. 

Death is easier to process in the heat of battle. It gives him an excuse to be distracted, to hide from the immediate pain of losing a pilot during a fight because he’s too busy protecting himself, protecting the city. He’s not made to watch it from afar and take the full weight of it.

Turning away from the window, Jihoon descends back down to the ground floor. 

Probation period. Three months of having to stomach you or he’s out. Flexing his fingers, he heads to his room, needing the silence. If Jihoon is going to do this, he knows he needs to keep himself in line. Can’t push you away like he has the others. 

And he hates you for it.

-

Also in this Universe: Cherry Bomb by @daechwitatamic

[tobifuyu]

Snowflakes In My Stomach When We’re Kissin’

RAN HAITANI x f!reader

cw: nsfw, mdni, smut, fwb to lovers, oral (male reciving), tiny bit of angsty themes with happy ending, sappy fic, ran being a simp as always to feed my “he’s a self-centered bitch until he finds the one” agenda.

wc: 3.2k

a/n: surprise… i’m back with a christmas present! this is the first fic in a three pieces installment, which can all be read as standalone but come from the same universe and evolve in the span of three different christmases. in case you didn’t know, in japan christmas is a holiday in which people spend time with their partners because they reserve new year’s for family (not only i’ve seen it in a whole lot of shoujo anime but i’ve asked my japanese coworkers to confirm eheh). it’s also customary to eat cake! ;)

“Though you said you just wanted to get a coffee.”

The only thing peeking from the red scarf is the tip of his nose, flushed with the same color of the fabric that’s wrapped around his neck. You imagine his lips curved in a smirk under it.

When he came to pick you up earlier this morning, you thought he made a bold choice pairing the red garment with the unusual color of his hair. Up until then, you always believed red and purple would clash.

But Ran made it work, somehow. Like most things in his life, he did it with a confidence that made you question your world and how you view it even if for just a second.

“Well, that we did,” He shakes his hand, his long fingers easily supporting the weight of the full cup. You can see the steam rise from it and wonder if he’s not drinking it because he’s scared to burn his tongue or because he’s not ready to go home yet.

The two of you are currently walking around Shiba Park, not too far from Roppongi Hills. The peak of Tokyo Tower is hidden in plain sight behind the trees, stripped naked by the season, and adorned by strings of fairy lights.

In daylight they look clear, void of color, and empty, they come alive at night. Just like we both do, thinks Ran.

Ran does like winter. He believes winter poses more opportunities to forgo going out and staying in bed. He loves to gaze out of his apartment’s window and spot rain pit patting against the glass, watching the water droplets leave streaks behind as he lets himself get lulled back to sleep.

He also likes that he can layer more clothes, the more the merrier, he says, it’s easier to style it. You would agree, because he looks particularly elegant with his long black coat, left unbuttoned to glimpse at the nice sweater under it. The sight of his tightly clad body alone ignites a fire inside of you, one that is meek but insistent, and will soon start to burn you inside out.

What Ran doesn’t like it’s the cold. The wind is not fair against his pale skin, it leaves it red and stinging, much like his heart when he wakes up after a night together and doesn’t find you there. He does not like the cold, the cold of the sheets around him when you’ve left hours before.

He would like to pretend he’s clueless as to why, the same way you’re staring at him now, but he knows the reason behind it.

“Are you gonna tell me why we’re wandering around without a destination in freezing weather?

“Can’t you just live a little?”

You scoff at his words, taking another sip out of your hot chocolate to bite back an insult. He’s already testing your patience, and you have very little of it left today of all days.

“We should go eat some cake, I’d love an excuse to grab a Mont Blanc for later at that bakery by your apartment. Y’know I like it there.”

Cake. You don’t like cake, and you don’t like what eating cake with him would mean today of all days.

“Why do you have to make everything so complicated, Ran?” You sigh, head shaking in disappointment.

When you decided to start this with Ran, it was because you believed the man to be on the same wavelength as you. Ran had seemed like someone who knew what he wanted, and you had been sure that was not you.

He had promised that would stay the case. Your heart could not afford to be cared for by somebody.

When you look at him this time, you don’t notice how the wind is whipping the skin of his high cheeks red because his scarf is now covering everything but the lidded eyes staring at you.

At this rate Ran might end up hating winter: you seem to get colder with the season. He doesn’t think he would pick sleeping in over you, so if he could, he would like for summer to last all year long.

He’d like for you to cling to him even when the temperature is so high you can barely breathe in your cramped room, sweat sticking to both your skin and his, like your very first night together.

Because where the holidays bring glee to most, to you they’re a reminder of times that are long gone. A childhood spent decorating the tree and wishing for the perfect Christmas gift, now turned into a life of solitude. Your fast-paced job and lonely apartment away from home don’t leave space for the frivolity of Christmas.

“Didn’t wanna leave you alone,” he speaks so clearly of his intentions you almost feel shame, “Did ya think I would’ve left you bask in your gloominess, today? ‘M not that bad of an ass.”

You don’t think Ran owns you anything. He shouldn’t be picking up the pieces of you that other people left scattered and putting them back together as if it were a kids’ puzzle.

Ran knows you don’t really have anyone, he thinks he’s much like you, and would be just as bitter if he didn’t have his brother.

“You left Rin by himself?”

You hear his muffled laughter, “‘course not. Haruchiyo’s there. Y’know how they are.”

Yes. In love, you suppose. And you wonder if Ran thinks that is what it is. And what is it between you two?

You can feel his body warmth as he gravitates closer to you, “‘M cold,” is his excuse when his now ungloved hand catches yours. He intertwines your fingers, brushing the back of your hand with his thumb, before hiding them away in his coat pocket.

Gotta warm your cold heart up, he thinks.

“Saving you from this freezing weather,” is what he says out loud.

But you know it’s because the movement brings you closer, he pulls you so you’re now shoulder to shoulder, and you’re not strong enough to keep your head from falling on his. As if you were fresh snow in the sun, you melt in his presence.

“Let’s go get cake,” your voice is but a soft whisper, running past him like the breeze through the dying leaves, the wind finally settling down.

And that’s how he ends up in your apartment. Sounds of wet skin slapping against one another fill the void as he buries himself deep inside of you.

The sweet pastries Ran bought long forgotten over your kitchen counter, as he’d much rather taste the honeyed nectar spilling from between your thighs.

He’s grabbing at them now, the hold on your flesh sure to leave marks behind as he folds your legs so that he can loop his arms under your knees, keeping you spread open for him.

Big body caging you under his warmth with his forehead pressed against yours, and open mouths a breath away from the other, sharing sounds of pleasure without ever meeting in the middle.

It had been a tantalizing dance when you first started sleeping together. Like most people in your situation, you had both concluded that it would be best if you refrained from kissing. Deeming it too intimate.

Ran had caved after the third time you ended up in his bed, lips too needy to be kept from yours. He had let out a soft plead before you met him in the middle.

From then on you made it your mission to never kiss him outside of your bedroom activities, too scared of the power his kisses held over you. He and his annoying self had taken it as a challenge, always on the edge of his seat waiting to see who’d kiss the other first.

“Oh fuck this,” Ran groans before giving in.

You catch sight of his eyelids fluttering shut, hiding that violet color that you love so much, and your lips lock in a kiss that takes your breath as much as the hips still snapping against yours.

The coarse patch of hair on his navel repeatedly brushes against your puffed-up clit, making your hips jump up to chase the friction. The man is shamelessly shallowing your moans and caressing your tongue with his, teeth closing around your bottom lip when you go to pull away.

“Ngh, you taste like cake.”

Ran had snuck a bite of one of the pieces the moment he stepped out of the bakery, and the sweet taste on his tongue was, in your opinion, way better than the real deal.

His hand grasps your chin with firmness, the tips of his fingers squeezing your cheeks and making your blushed lips pucker up.

“So you do like cake, mh?”

“No, I don-“ Ran squeezes harder, and your mouth parts. A glob of spit falls on your tongue, one that you shallow under his scrutinizing gaze.

The moan that he lets out at that reverberates through your chest as he bends so close your bodies are now completely pressed against one another, sharing body heat.

This is what sex with Ran is, a concoction of rough touches and fucking that turn soft and slow when you least expect it. He likes to tease and surprise you, stealing the prettiest sounds from your lips and making them his. Making you his.

“Y’don’t like cake, s’okay. I know you like me,” one of his hands teasingly pinches your right nipple, respective eye closing in a wink.

You like that he makes sex fun, cracking jokes as if his cock weren’t pumping inside of you. You like it, you like him, but you can’t have him know that.

“That’s not-“ he interrupts you once again, this time with the snapping of his hips. He starts fucking you like he means it. Calculated thrusts hitting against the sweet spot only he knows how to find.

Ran is on his knees now, hands firmly planted on your raised hips, guiding you back and forth over his length.

“Fuck! Ran, fuck that feels good- so good-“

Slurred words leave your panting mouth as your hands hold onto the pillow behind your head for dear life, back arched and chest exposed to the greedy eyes that are raking over your body. From your perked-up nipples, begging to be played with, to the way your cunt is stretching around his cock.

“Don’t have enough hands for the things I wanna do to you,” Nonetheless, he repositions his right one so that it’s splayed over your navel, thumb reaching down to rub tight circles on your slicked clit.

“Fuckin’ cunt squeezing me so good,” moans spill from your mouth at his words, his voice is strained but maintains that hint of icy superiority and poise that is characteristic of Ran.

The way your hole flutters around him is maddening, Ran can feel your walls clenching against his length so perfectly. He can feel everything.

As a matter of fact, so do you. No matter how dumb he fucks you, you can’t ever miss out on the sweet feeling of his bare skin caressing your wet cunt. The squelching sounds are filling the air around you, making your cheeks heat up and your head lull to the side, trying to avoid his eyes in shame.

Half face buried in the pillow, you beg for him, “Ran, please, please. I need to cum so bad.”

His thrusts slow down, thumb stilling over your clit, and you hear him hum, pensive.

“Maybe if you looked at me, pretty, I might think about letting you.”

Gathering your remaining strength, you open your eyes to the sight of his glorious body above yours.

The wetness of his skin shines under the light of the outside street lamp, peeking in from the window, full body tattoo so enchanting, you watch it move and bend over his rising chest.

With violet eyes fixed on yours, he stands tall, unreachable.

The purple strands that fall from his gelled-back hairstyle are the only giveaway that he’s not so perfect and pristine after all, but he still looks like a god in your devoted eyes.

“Ran,” you call his name so softly he tumbles from the skies right to you.

His body bends to lay over yours, weight supported by his arms at your sides. With a snap of his hips, he breaks the longing stare you’re both sharing, mushroom tip hitting the spot that makes your eyes roll to the back of your head.

“Oh my god, that feels so-“ “I know, baby, s’okay.” One of his hands caresses over your head, before stopping at your neck and closing around your windpipe. The pressure of his touch against your feverish skin is delicious.

Your nails are now creating indents in the flesh of his arms. You want more, you need him to break you.

Ran can’t stop thrusting, pounding, burying himself inside of you to the hilt. He’s never wanted to be this close to someone before, never needed their warmth as he does yours.

He stops you before you can reach your clit with your fingers and, wanting to be the one to take you over the edge, he uses his free hand to rub over it vehemently.

“Coming, I’m coming,” are the rushed words that fall from your lips before you hit your peak. Wanton moans are gracing Ran’s ears, making his balls strain from holding back, but he wants you to bask in the glow of your orgasm before he reaches his.

“Doin’ so well fo’ me, look at this pretty pussy. Gushing all over my cock.” He looks down as he says this, watching how good he’s splitting you open, his cock coming out of you covered with the white sheen of your arousal, then plunging back in.

Your spent body is overstimulated, twitching in his hold as if trying to run away from the pleasure.

“You’re the only one, baby.” Ran lets slip, the sight of you in your most vulnerable state makes him just as weak, “S’all yours, so take it.” And he means it, you’re the only one.

Before you, life used to be in black and white. Ran had tried everything to paint it some other color, from violence to sex, but nothing ever came close to holding you in his arms.

Color is always all around him, but Ran’s devoid of it until you touch him.

You pull him down to you at the confession, arms wrapped around his neck, chests pressed against one another, hard nipples tickling the soft skin.

The pace suddenly turns slow, and you wonder if Ran does not care about coming anymore. His focus is on you, and you’re staring back at him with just as much affection.

“Let me take care of you,” it’s what you suggest once you’ve come down from your high, fingers pressing against his shoulders to have him lay back in the sheets. Short hair sprawled over the white pillow like a halo behind his troubled head.

Both of your thighs are circling his hips, too scared to have Ran pull out, and be prevailed by that sense of emptiness and cold that comes from being away from him.

Fighting a whirlpool of emotions, you feel the need to silence your mind with his lips on yours. The clashing of your noses does nothing to stop you from kissing each other passionately.

The blame should be on Ran for making you fall for him and gifting you a brand new reason to celebrate Christmas, but you should’ve known better when he walked into your life with that snarky smirk that makes you sigh just thinking about it. You bite his lip in retaliation.

The feeling of Ran’s hands traveling over your skin and sinking with his strong grip on the flesh of your hips is what makes you separate your two halves, pussy clenching around the length that has been filling you up so perfectly. The need to make him feel just as good swells up on the inside.

“Fuck, please,” A choked whisper, falling from the pearlescent of his lips, wet with your love, blood pouring out of the bitten skin.

Purple and red do look good together, you think.

Your hands are warm, trailing up his stomach like the ink on his skin. He feels as if you’re moving too fast, scared he might blink and lose the moment, and at the same time too slow for his liking. He’s begging and he doesn’t know what he’s begging for. But you do.

Ran’s hands tighten around the bedsheets. He wants to touch everywhere you’ve been, wants to get stained in you. Like fresh paint that sticks on skin, he’s now colored in your shades.

Wet kisses are being left on the top of his shaft. Ran’s right hand finds your hair, waving his fingers between the loose strands to uncover the sight of your pretty face.

Lidded eyes are watching you glide your tongue down his hardness, caressing the bluish veins running across its sides, tasting yourself on it.

When your lips wrap around his sensitive tip you have to hold down his hips with both hands.

The peace you set is slow, taking him in your mouth inch by inch. His girth stretches your lips and he thumbs the lower one as you look up at him with tears forming at your lashline.

“Mouth feels like fucking heaven, angel.”

Ran can barely contain himself, dangling from the edge, his balls heavy with his release.

When your nose is buried in the hair at the base of his cock, you know you’ve successfully taken him whole. A huge accomplishment on your part, considering how blessed he is.

With your throat clenching around him, it doesn’t take long to feel him twitch in your mouth.

“Yeah, pretty girl, just like that. Make me cum, fuck!”

Bobbing your head at his request, you’re hasty in sucking your checks around his length, letting him come on the back of your tongue with languid moans that contain your name.

No need for him to ask, you’re one step ahead by swallowing his semen, making a show of it before leaving a wet kiss on his tip, to collect the white drop that was spilling over.

“Better than any cake.”

Booming laughter fills the space around you as you scoot closer to his tired body, laying on his naked frame and stealing all his warmth.

“I do like you.”

“I know,” Ran looks down at you, left check cutely smushed against his pecs, “Let’s spend New Year’s together.”

The faint movement of your hair brushing his skin tells him you’re agreeing, “And what about… next year?”

“Let’s spend them all together.”

You’re warm in his hold, and he figures the fairy lights might’ve come on in the park.

Ran thinks back to the rest of the untouched cake on your kitchen counter and is happy enough that the two of you have exchanged Christmas gifts in your own special way.

After all, he took away the cold, and you’ve brightened up his life.

That’s more of what you could’ve wished for.

[rosieofcorona]

In the Blue Morning

Sharing this gentle little fic here again since the Solavellan girlies (genderless) are so back!!! In my mind I am sliding this across the table to you all. Also on Ao3, if you prefer. As always, thank you for reading! 💕

She cajoles him, some mornings, away from his office, from his maps and his books and his paintings and out among the newly-planted gardens, all their tight, unfurling blooms. 

It’s always empty at this hour, when most of Skyhold is still asleep, save for the guards in their high towers, the recruits in the practice yard. The only sound is the clang of their swords through the mist like distant bells, the only light the pink and gold of the nascent sun.

They have been careful, desperately careful not to draw undue attention, not to generate rumors that could harm the Inquisition in the future. It is easier on the road to find a quiet moment alone– to steal a kiss or hold a hand or put words to their love– but the castle, however safe, is full of eyes, forever watching.

It is only in the narrow, muted hours before dawn that Solas weaves his fingers with hers as they orbit the courtyard, side by side.

He names the blossoms as they pass, first in the trade tongue and then in Elvish, the softened syllables like music on his tongue. She repeats them half as gracefully, but he smiles at every attempt, correcting her gently now and again, praising her efforts.

“Gail’lealis,” he says, pointing out an elegant bellflower, its blue-white petals bundled tightly in green sepals.

It sounds off, even to her ear, when she says, “ Ga’lealis,” back.

They pause for a moment, and Solas turns and bends and plucks an early bloom from the same plant, rotating it slowly between his fingers, holding it up for examination. 

“Ga-il,” he repeats softly, separating the sounds. “Meaning ‘bell,’ in the common parlance.” 

“Ga-il,” she says again, correctly this time. 

“Followed by lealis , meaning ‘glass.’”

“Gail’lealis.”

“Beautiful,” he murmurs, tucking the flower behind her ear, the meaning vague yet all-encompassing. It is all beautiful– the morning, the garden, how she catches the light, his ancient language in her mouth, her mouth– 

Solas kisses her in the empty courtyard, parts her lips with a linguist’s tongue, and she kisses him back again and again as if each time might be the last. He wants to stay like this forever, wants the sun to forget to rise, wants the castle to sleep and sleep in an endless dream.

But the light keeps coming, every moment. The castle will wake, and they will see. 

And this will cost them, in the end. 

She is pink as the sky when they finally come apart, and continue their long walk around. 

“I hear you were out here yesterday,” she says, breaking the silence as they turn a corner. “Cullen says you beat him soundly at chess.” 

“It was a closer game than he thinks,” Solas says, but she has learned when he’s just being modest.

“Must not have been that close, because Bull says the same. As do Blackwall, and Varric, and Dorian, though he swears that you cheated.”  “I did no such thing!” 

When they turn again, the chessboard in question comes into full view, set and waiting on its table beneath an awning. 

“He seemed very certain,” she shrugs. “Though I suppose I could find out for myself.”

They stop again before the table, and Solas looks at her intently.  “Is that a challenge, dear Inquisitor?”

“That depends on your level of skill.”

She’s teasing him now, enticing him, a dynamic he’s come to enjoy. There are so few who impress him with thoughtfulness, who make him work at being clever.

“Very well, but you should know that I am merciless,” he warns, a contradiction to the chivalry of pulling out her chair. “Even to one I love.”

He takes the seat opposite her, the board and the pieces adorned in glittering dew. 

“I believe the Lady Inquisitor moves first.”

He sets a dozen little traps for her, a dozen clever gambits, and she evades them every time, to his astonishment. Where he moves to attack, she counters; where he baits her, she defends or retreats. By the end, with the sun fully risen overhead, they reach a deadlock, both depleted, neither victorious.

“Again?” She asks cheerfully, when they’ve finished. Already she is freeing her captives from his end of the table. “Don’t look so stunned, my love. Unless you’re trying to offend me.”

“Forgive me, vhenan,” he says, shaking his head. “You surprise me as always. It is rare to find an opponent so…discerning.” 

His beloved laughs with the morning breeze, a sound like air that surrounds and envelops him. 

“Rare to find one you can’t beat, you mean.” 

She’s right, of course– it is rare that he loses, even rarer that he plays against someone so evenly matched. He still can’t quite puzzle through it, where he went wrong, where she figured him out. 

He had gotten a lead on her early on, or so he thought– he had taken a tower, a mage, and two pawns– and left his queen open for the taking, which she had entirely ignored. She caught onto him quickly, though too late to win, and when she realized she couldn’t beat him, she had blocked him instead. 

Solas leans thoughtfully back in his chair, replaying their game in his mind. No matter how he tries to beat her, he finds no way through. She sees his scheming, sees him coming, cuts him off. 

“Why did you not take my queen, given the chance?”

“Because you gave me the chance,” she reasons. “You wouldn’t do that except to win.” 

“It could have been a tactical error.”  “It wasn’t,” she says assuredly, resetting the pieces along their battle lines. “If I had taken her, it would have left my king undefended from your mages.”  “You could have moved him.”  “For a turn or two. Then your knight would have circled back. Isn’t that right?” She looks up at Solas, her eyes smiling and sharp, affirmed in her answer already. “Or shall we call that a ‘tactical error?’”

“Mm,” Solas nods his approval. “You’ve become quite the strategist. Have you been spending time with our Commander?”

“I’ve been spending time with you,” she counters. “Learning all your little tricks.”

Not all, it occurs to him, but Solas smothers the thought with a laugh. “It seems to me you have a few of your own.” 

“Our Keeper used to call me harellan,” she tells him. “Trickster. Though I needn’t explain that to you.”

He fights to keep the easy expression on his face, feeling suddenly caught in the snare of her gaze, as if she sees directly through him, sees him fully, all he is.

Harellan, his mind echoes. How could she know?

The wait for her judgment feels infinite, inevitable– but it does not come, and does not come, and does not come. She only moves a white pawn toward the board’s center, the leaves rustling softly around them. 

No, he decides. She does not know. She only means he knows the word. 

Solas mirrors her opening move, their pawns face to face on the battlefield. “And still, your Keeper named you her First.” 

“I was more troublesome as a child,” she says, with a grin that implies that the mischief has never left her. “I’ve settled down a great deal since. Can’t you tell?”

This time, when Solas laughs, there is nothing else hiding beneath it. No uneasy feeling, no great fear that she will discover him, cast him out. There is only happiness for a moment, the war reduced to a board between them, as if sorrow and death are nowhere, and the end of the world is far away.

[coffeegnomee]

Bacon saying "yes. [I watched] the entire thing" about having seen Kab's new video "I watched it for entertainment purposes, but I also think I took some things from it as well"

KAB: "fair enough, I put things in there knowing people would watch it and take things from it"

she brings up how Clown never offered her a team, and that she is close to getting his full trust. Which I think is a lie rooted in the truth that she was so "my son could never hurt a fly he's just misunderstood" in the video to get Clown to trust her more irl/in lifesteal. Like how he trusts Branzy and Ferre.

(even though it is SO WEIRD for her to have been like that about Clown in the video. Like it was an exposé about how right the Mice were to be cautious about her affiliation and assume she was telling him things. She was. Maybe not base coords, but she just leaked that she absolutely told him things about them and that she was not for the team at all. And she left that all in. why? WHY Kab? I can only assume it was to endear her to Clown more? That's the only thing that makes sense? Unless she did it to "prove" to the Mice that they were wrong to assume she was teamed with Clown, "see I was just telling him to be careful and you guys were making him into a villain" or smth. I genuinely don't know. I don't understand her at all.)

But she's bringing it up to Bacon and downplaying it so that he thinks she isn't as close to Clown as she is. She's trying to manipulate him here I think.

then Bacon brings up the google doc of Mapicc's personality, which apparently Mapicc dmed her about (which is hilarious for the record)

To which she says it wasn't real [the doc itself], she made it for the video. She only articulated Mapicc's personality and Mapicc's alone.. which obviously means it was him very much on purpose. So did she do it to stoke Mapicc's ego? Or to see what he would say about it and confirm or deny if she was right? I can so easily imagine her writing it up being like, now Mapicc will think I understand him but this is not really what I think about him and he will be easier to manipulate.

But the analysis, like I wrote about, was right for the wrong reasons, AND YET I saw how they were rooted in very plausible assumptions she would have made bc of talking to Ash.

So I struggle to see how that writeup wasn't what she genuinely thought. This whole video just feels like exactly what she genuinely thought throughout the whole first week.

And it's completely rooted in the concept that she knows what she's talking about, even though her only evidence is that she can read Clown. (the only other moment being that she was right the empire would betray them in the End. Which was the softest of softball throws. It was an allyship against the other team. Obv the beef starts up the second that is over.) Like congrats. You've known Clown for two years very closely. It would be weird if you didn't. And on THAT note,

She called Woogie a dipshit for having his own opinions about Clown based on his interactions with him for the past FIVE whole seasons. THREE YEARS.

She took his words as saying that you shouldn't trust Clown instead of what he was really trying to say, which was we as a team should not trust Clown. Kab knows Clown won't kill her but she just fails to understand that other people have their own valid experiences of the members. She's just so focused on her singular view of people and how they will interact with her that she completely misses the opportunity to learn what other people think of other people without it being an attack on her own opinion.

I know I get on here and analyze everyone to death. I know that that's how I love to watch and enjoy lifesteal. And that not everyone observes the lifestealers like bugs to be pinned down and dissected. Watching vods is a listening-only experience. I cannot talk or add to the convo, right?

But it still boggles my mind that she doesn't see the manipulative value in silently listening to every word that comes out of someone's mouth in order to learn what they think about others. And let that tell you what to think about others.

If she just listened to what people said, especially what they say about people she doesn't understand, she would learn SO much.

Like she completely called Woogie an idiot for wanting to ally with the Empire for the purpose of killing Clown Mane and Flame.

And she said it because she doesn't understand how Mapicc and Spoke think.

And because she doesn't understand them, she thinks Woogie doesn't understand them.

Like I know Woogie isn't always the most active and integrated member, and he's also an unreliable narrator and has assumptions rooted in a subjective path just like she does.

But Woogie AND Mapicc AND Spoke have all been playing on this server since Season ONE. You would think that that would be an excellent learning opportunity to ask Woogie how he views Mapicc and Spoke.

And then from there, sure! Take it with a grain of salt. Take your personal experiences with them as the most important opinion to value for your own safety (bc nobody can tell you what your gut says) but then also take their opinion and use it against them if you want to be such a great manipulator. Or at the very least catalogue their opinion away for further study at a future time.

It's just. She just has her assumptions about herself towards every member and completely and totally discounts what anyone has to say about their assumptions of themselves with other members. And she gets so damn triggered by people saying they have more experience than her, thinking it's a personal attack on her intelligence. Where that comes from I cannot know but that sounds incredibly deeply rooted.

So back to the Bacon conversation.

She said she knew people would watch it and said stuff on purpose.

And yet she completely left in the whole scene about lying to Woogie about being sorry for discounting his opinion. “Sometimes you need to be sopping wet for people to trust you chat”

Everyone on lifesteal is going to watch this video. WOOGIE might watch this video (though I have a feeling he won't tbh) and you're just leaving in that when you apologize you are never sincere about it and are 100% using that to manipulate them later.

INSANE to leave that in. You leave that in the drawing board. You keep that shit hidden. ESPECIALLY if you know your enemies will watch it. Girl was the most open book ever.

And then to end the video saying I'm a liar and manipulator bitch I know what I'm talking about. Insane. You are just BROADCASTING that you should never be trusted ever. (for the second video in a row!)

Also in a video about you desperately trying to prove that you should be trusted. It's two different kinds of trust, funny that we use the same word for both.

Trusted in that you tell the truth vs trusted that you know what you're talking about.

I am so interested to know what Bacon thought of that. What will he think if she does apologize now? He's not dumb. He saw the video.

She just thinks she's playing 4D chess. And yet 4D chess would be being silent and listening to what everyone says. Like how Spokes does. and Clown. No talking, just silently listening in vc's and coming to conclusions about the members.

And Bacon too. He's been asking people so many questions about what they're doing and why and then just listening to what they have to say, and then forming his own conclusion about it and going off to try something. He's becoming great at listening and thinking and this whole little arc was founded on using that information to do something interesting on the server.

Though I suppose he wasn't always that good at it. And therefore the final conclusion you can take is the same every time: Kab needs experience in order to gain experience. And it will be a long and painful process.

[the-virgoperspective]

Part 2

Mercury is the planet of communication and of the mind; it is one of the most important planets in a composite chart. The placement of Mercury in the composite chart can indicate how effectively and in what manner you and another person communicates as one. A harmonious aspect and house placement for Mercury in the composite chart can be very beneficial to any bond. It’s important to check both the house placement and the aspects to this planet to see how communication manifests within any bond you may be looking at.

I will be using the writings of Robert Hand from his novel “Planets in Composite: Analyzing Human Relations” to describe the meaning and significance of the Moon in each composite house. Please always keep in mind that this is only one vital step to reading an entire composite chart and should not be seriously considered without viewing everything as a whole. This is just one piece. Enjoy!

7H Composite Mercury

Mercury in the seventh house of the composite chart indicates that your relationship will work well as a partnership in mental and intellectual concerns. For example, if you came together to write a book (which this placement of Mercury does not indicate especially), you would be able to work together as a team very well. Similarly you would work well together in any kind of business or commercial activity, particularly those involving electronics, communication, data processing, or transportation.

In a personal relationship this placement indicates the ability to think as a team and to provide a united front, at least intellectually, to the rest of the world. The two of you are generally able to share your ideas and opinions about everything.

Because the seventh is an angular house, the planet that occupies it is more important than it would be otherwise. When Mercury is strengthened, as it is in the seventh house, communication between you is easier and is a more prominent part of the relationship.

8H Composite Mercury

The position of Mercury in the eighth house of the composite chart will enable you to examine in depth the psychological forces that are at work in your relationship. These forces will be brought out and examined in the full light of consciousness. For this reason, the two of you should be more capable than most people at working out problems that may arise between you. Just be sure that you keep some sense of perspective about the whole process and do not allow yourselves to get carried away by it.

This placement of Mercury also means that the relationship will probably have an important effect upon the intellectual development of both of you. Your way of thinking about the world will be changed, although it is not possible to tell from this placement alone whether the change will be for good or ill. In general, however, the potential for understanding yourselves and each other is very great.

9H Composite Mercury

Composite Mercury in the ninth house grants a relationship a great deal of mental aliveness and interest in all new ideas that expand your collective awareness.

Together you may be interested in travel, literature, philosophy, or religion-interests that you did not have to the same extent before you came together. You will want explore and range widely, either in the real world or in the world of the mind. At the very least you both will find that your way of looking at the world has changed because of this relationship.

Others will recognize that the two of you have the intellectual capacity to rise above the daily concerns of life that so often bog people down and overwhelm a relationship with a mass of trivia. Together you will be concerned about larger issues that affect the world in general, and you will understand how these issues affect individuals, especially yourselves. Consequently you will have unusual foresight as a couple and will seldom be trapped by unforeseen circumstances.

In general, this relationship should enable your mind to grow and expand.

10H Composite Mercury

The key idea of Mercury in the tenth house of the composite chart is consciousness of life direction or purpose. This position implies that you both have a very strong feeling of purpose within your relationship. At the very least, you will discuss and think about your aims a lot. Mercury in the tenth house does not tell a great deal about what that purpose may be, but it does indicate that the issue will be important.

If your relationship exists for a business or professional purpose, this position suggests that you will work together successfully in such fields as communications, transportation, education, or writing.

In a personal relationship, nothing so specific is implied, except that communication at all levels will be important in fulfilling the purpose for which you have come together. There will be a strong intellectual bond between you. You will enjoy sitting and talking and sharing your ideas with each other. And the more you do this, the more you will grow as a couple.

This placement signifies that through reason, logic, communication, and thought-the functions of Mercury-you will achieve your maximum growth as a couple.

11H Composite Mercury

Mercury in the eleventh house of your composite chart gives the two of you a very hopeful attitude. You like to think about the future and make plans together. This position is likely to make you optimistic about your future as a couple.

Friends will play an important role in your life together, especially friends with whom you can exchange ideas and have witty and stimulating conversations. You will like people who are intelligent and also very lively, who can constantly present you with new ideas, rather than people who seem to be stagnant or stodgy. Younger people appeal to you especially.

At the same time, Mercury in the eleventh house is a sign that the two of you have similar intellectual goals and ideals. This increases your capacity for communication because you do not have to spend a lot of time defining basic issues for each other. Because your minds are compatible, you are able to understand each other much more quickly than you would otherwise.

12H Composite Mercury

Composite Mercury in the twelfth house indicates that the two of you will do much thinking and talking about the inner psychological aspects of your relationship. There will be considerable mental probing of yourselves and each other. At the same time, you are not likely to share this process with people outside the relationship. Others may view you as rather secretive or even clandestine in the way you communicate with each other. You will try to work out whatever problems you have within the relationship without appealing to outsiders. This is a good position for psychological self-understanding within a relationship.

However, careless probing into each other’s minds can degenerate into playing games with each other’s emotions. Be careful how you use the understandings you gain. If you use them to manipulate each other, you are likely to unleash forces that can undo the relationship. In particular, you may stop communicating and start keeping everything secret from each other. This is extremely dangerous in a relationship, because with a twelfth-house Mercury it is very likely to generate suspicion.

Find part 1 here!

☿ galaxy divider by @animatedglittergraphics-n-more ☿

[roguishcat]

Honeycomb

Summary: Astarion had a brilliant, fool-proof plan. And nothing, especially not a piece of honeycomb, would get in the way.

A/N: My brain is running on almost no fuel. There probably are mistakes and misspelled words. Kindly tell me if you notice anything. ❤️I would like to make this into something longer in the future, maybe finally try my hand at writing something steamy. Would anyone be interested in reading something like that? Let me know.

Tags: sexy Halsin, annoyed Astarion, some suggestive themes.

Pairing: Astarion x female Tav

Oneshot, 1.2k words

Set in the beggining of Act II.

She was doing it again. Staring at that- that huge oaf of a druid as if he was the most fascinating thing ever.

Astarion scowled. The problem wasn’t even that she was attracted to Halsin. Because one would have to be blind or a complete liar to say that the druid was nothing to look at. What annoyed him that the druid could command all Tav’s attention after she had a taste of what Astarion had to offer. Having spent a mind-blowingly amazing night with an earth-shatteringly gorgeous vampire, Tav should not be eye-fucking others around the campsite!

And yet she was. Granted, she was not the only one who could not look away. Even Shadowheart seemed to be enjoying the show, murmuring something to Karlach which had the tiefling nodding and licking her lips.

And how did it start you may ask? Well, it started with a piece of honeycomb.

Tav, being the sweet, caring, lovable fool that she was, worried that Halsin did not feel welcome when he first joined them. They were fast approaching Shadowlands, meaning that they would soon leave behind the lush greenery of the forest in favour of the grim dangerous landscapes of the cursed lands near Moonrise. Although the thought was unsettling for everyone, Tav was worried about how a druid, whose comfort for some reason that Astarion could not possibly fathom mattered to her, would fare being stuck among all the death and destruction.

And what about Astarion, hm? Did she think about him? Oh, no! Because apparently he was not at the top of the list of her priorities. And that was… irksome. And Astarion showed that he was annoyed in the healthiest, most obvious way possible. That is, ignoring Tav and brooding. Which for some reason was not getting quite the reaction that he was hoping for.

But yes, the honeycomb. He did digress.

Tav found a large piece in the afternoon and proudly presented it to Halsin with a radiant smile, who accepted the treat with thanks, his fingers brushing Tav’s as he took it out of her hands. And therein lay the problem.

Halsin’s fingers.

Because apparently no one told him that one was not meant to eat with his hands, especially in such a scandalous way!

Halsin’s hands were sticky with honey, fingers glistening in the light of the fire as he sucked each digit clean like a man starved. Tav was transfixed, blush dusting her cheeks, spoon suspended in midair because she forgot that she was, in fact, eating in favour of the pay-per-view show that she had the front seat to.

Astarion gritted his teeth. Surely the druid could not be that oblivious? Surely he was doing this on purpose? Well, whatever his game was, Astarion could not allow this to continue. Because no matter how dishonorable his intentions for Tav were, he was definitely not done with her. And he would not be done with her at least until she and the merry band that called her leader marched into the city, slaughtered Cazador and defeated all foes that got in the way of their de-tadpoling. Then, and only then, he would think about dismissing Tav. If he so chose.

With that in mind, Astarion grabbed a bucket full of water and marched across the campsite, making his way for Halsin. It was time to put a stop to this.

“There. You might find it easier to clean up this way, hm?” he mocked, thrusting the bucket into Halsin’s hands.

“Thank you, Astarion. How thoughtful of you,” Halsin nodded, confused and not quite understanding what got the vampire so annoyed.

“Anytime,” Astarion huffed, pivoting on his heel, and making his way towards Tav, who finally noticed that the stew dripped off her spoon and onto her lap.

“Tsk, such a messy pup,” he scolded playfully, “why don’t we get you out these dirty clothes and into something more comfortable?” he leaned closer to her ear, letting his breath ghost over the shell.

His breathy invitation was quite lost on her, however, as at this moment Halsin chose to pour the water onto his head.

It was Tav’s squeak and wide eyes that made Astarion snap his head in the druid’s direction, ruby eyes narrowing as he released a growl at the sight that had Tav’s undivided attention.

Rivulets of water running down pectorals, getting caught in the grooves in the skin between the rolling muscles, and then down, down, down-

“Why does that druid never seem to have a shirt on?” Astarion hissed, finally having enough of this, and grabbing Tav’s hand to pull her away and towards his tent.

He could distinctly hear Karlach’s raucous laughter as the tiefling caught on to what got Astarion’s panties in a bunch, followed by amused sounds coming from the other companions. Astarion could not quite bring himself to care because he knew what his priorities were. And right now, it was high time to remind a certain someone what her priorities should be. Namely him and his needs.

Tav almost tripped as he shoved the flap of his tent aside, pulled her in and made sure the cloth slid back into place behind her. He, unlike certain someone, did not need an audience.

“Astarion? What happened? Is everything okay?”

Oh, that poor, oblivious, sweet idiot. If it were anyone else, he would be quite sure that she did all that on purpose, just to get a rise out of him. But not so. The look she was giving him now was genuine. All the more reason to keep this powerful, yet oblivious creature under his thumb.

“Nothing, darling, I am quite well. Just hungry, that’s all,” he purred, advancing on her step by tantalizing step, eyes locked on his prize.

“Oh! Of course! Sorry, today has been a lot, I forgot to offer,” she pulled the fabric of her collar aside to bare her beautiful neck to him, the imprints from the bite left after his previous feeding still visible.

Astarion licked his lips and pressed his mouth to her skin, delighting in the shallow gasp that she gave at the contact.

“As alluring as your neck is, my sweet,” he swept his tongue up the column of her neck and lay a tender kiss on the bitemarks, “I hope that there is more, much more on offer tonight.”

As he sank his fangs into Tav and felt her blood flow onto his tongue, Astarion soon found himself grinding against the swell of her ass, the hand that was not holding her in place sneaking to caress her breast. Which was when Astarion had to remind himself that he was doing this just to keep Tav on his side. It was simply a matter of convenience. Nothing more, nothing less. And this was certainly not something that he had to keep reminding himself of more and more as they progressed on their journey.

And yes, perhaps bedding Tav has been quite fun. She was a vision, with her cheeks flushed, lips swollen from kisses parted as she moaned his name sweetly into the night. But that was just a perk. Why shouldn’t he enjoy himself a little, given the opportunity?

Yes, his plan was flawless. Nothing could possibly go wrong.

[kamehamehamlet]

Revival Project Update: The 2024 transformation! 👀👀

Thanks again to everyone who has shown support since we announced the project less than a month ago. I'm so excited to share more details about our goals for this year! I previously mentioned that I'm working to make the script available this year, what I didn't mention is that I'm revising the script, and you will be able to experience KamehameHamlet with a special staged reading of this transformed play with the original KHH cast and director on board!

The reading will be streamed online and recorded for later viewing, and following the reading we will make the revised and original scripts available.

There is one more very meaningful and super radical detail you can see here!

Be sure you don't miss the details by signing up for email updates at KamehameHamlet.com and read on to learn more about the script and staged reading!

More about the script

Why are you rewriting the script?

I'll share another post this weekend breaking down the reasoning behind the rewrite. I'll link to that post here when it's up!

How will the scripts be published?

At the very least, both scripts will be available in digital form for anyone to read. However, I will also be looking into options for printing physical copies.

Will we be able to perform the script?

This is a goal of mine, so I'm looking into options that can support myself and Play-Dot while also making the play accessible to artists of all budgets.

Any way this new version will let me be pedantic to strangers online?

Yes! The original KamehameHamlet had the subtitle 'Good Night Saiyan Prince' the revised version uses the subtitle 'Waiting for Goku.'

More about the staged reading

What is a staged reading?

Staged readings can be pretty varied, but in general, it's a stripped-down production without costumes, lights, blocking, etc. Actors are familiar with the script and may have gone through some rehearsal, but aren't expected to memorize lines.

Why a staged reading and not a full production?

I answered this question yesterday which you can read here. In summary, a staged reading will be a much easier goal to accomplish with fewer risks involved.

What should we expect from a staged reading of KHH?

A lot of these details are still up in the air. Whether we gather the actors on zoom, or bring everyone together with a professional recording equipment, the goal is to make sure it's available for people to view online. To that end I'm looking into costs for a few different levels of quality, and following that we will look into options around funding.

I want the staged reading to be incredible, how can I support it?

Right now, the best way to support the KamehameHamlet Revival Project is to:

Sign-up for email updates: This tells me you are willing to navigate off of Tumblr by a few clicks, to support or view KHH content.

Follow this blog: This helps to make sure you don't miss updates!

Share our posts: Amokslime's original post is nearing 20,000 notes. First of all, that's insane! However, the majority of people who have seen that post still don't know we are working to bring KHH back. You can help spread the word by reblogging our updates and if you see a mutual sharing the OG post, consider reblogging with our announcement!

[floral-force]

Saddle Tramp - Chapter 1

ONCE UPON A TIME IN THE WEST

simon "ghost" riley x f!reader - old west/cowboy/western au

summary: Anything is possible in the American West--unless your destiny is predetermined. When your fate as the heiress of a railroad magnate becomes entangled with that of a drifting bounty hunter, you ride into a world of opportunity. Despite your differences, something blooms between you and the masked man that is truly once in a lifetime. Saddle up for a journey west full of rugged terrain, kisses under the stars, smoky saloons, and finding love when you least expect it. (Loosely based on spaghetti westerns and the myth of Hades and Persephone.)

words: 2.7k+

warnings/tags/disclaimers: my work/blog is always 18+ only. I do not own any of the media I reference. alcohol and tobacco use, VERY brief and mild sexual imagery, cowboy ghost does something to me, bounty hunter/cowboy task force 141, references to westerns/media in western settings

a/n: at last...I RETURN!! and I come with the first chapter of a fic that has been bouncing around in my skull for nearly a year. I listened to saddle tramp and I finally fleshed it out. I hope y'all enjoy the ride <3 series masterlist | read on ao3 | join the tag list

The hiss of steam and excited chatter hit your ears as soon as you stepped off the train. The trip from Chicago to Denver was comfortable, but nothing beat stretching tight muscles on solid ground. You ached at the thought of sitting again soon and considered yourself lucky to have such a problem. This trip had been a long time coming, but now that you were standing in Denver and faced with its new terrain and the prospect of your fate, a pit grew in your stomach where a flower should be. The sun late-morning sky and the crisp air refreshed your eyes and lungs after nearly five days of gas lamps and poor ventilation. A luxurious trip came at a cost greater than money, you thought, wincing while rolling your shoulders.

You heard a man call your name and snapped your head to the right as he approached you with the two bulging leather bags you’d packed. You walked towards him, picking up your skirt so you could increase your pace. Despite the cool spring air, beads of sweat formed on your skin as you hurried towards the end of the train. You wiped your dewy forehead with the back of your hand and huffed, hoping nobody could discern your discomfort. You stopped at the middle of the train to meet the man carrying your bags in his crisp blue uniform. As he came into view, you recognized his short brown hair and lean frame—it was Douglas, your father’s assistant.

“Miss, you didn’t need to meet me here!” 

You politely smiled and smoothed out your skirts. “Well, here I am, sir.”

He cleared his throat and looked to his right at the bustling station. “The stage is waiting for you.”

“Here, let me take these off your hands,” you said, reaching for the luggage.

“No, miss, I couldn’t let you carry them! Your father would murder me if he found out.”

You yanked them out of his hands and met his wide green eyes. “He won’t, Mr. Douglas. Now, I’d really love to get the last leg of my trip over with. Traveling is hell for my head.”

“Right this way,” he sighed, motioning for you to follow him through the throng of people.

This wasn’t your first time in Denver, but it was a one-way trip. Your rigorous education groomed you to take over your family’s business, and your father finally decided it was time to begin the hands-on portion of your training. Responsibility made it slightly easier to pack your bags and leave the bustling city you called home, but the expectations on your shoulders weighed your feet down. The only people waiting for you in Denver were Douglas and your father, and you doubted you’d be allowed to visit your aunts and cousins in Chicago within the next six months.

At least Colorado had scenic views and the scent of opportunity. It helped distract you from the bumpy ride in the stagecoach; the first-class passenger train car spoiled you more than you realized. 

“Only a few hours before we reach town, miss.”

“I don’t know how you stand this, Douglas. This is worse for my nausea than a choppy day on the lake or at sea.”

“You’ll adjust in time.”

“I hope so,” you grumbled, “because this is unbearable.”

Finally, the stagecoach came to a stop. Douglas exited and helped you step out, then gestured to the wooden posts framing a dusty main street. 

“Welcome to Steel Run!”

You forced a smile, then grabbed your bags from the driver. Just ahead of the posts, you saw your father speaking with another man on the shaded porch of what you assumed to be the sheriff’s office. Squinting up at the awning, a large sign confirmed your guess. Douglas snatched your bags before you could protest, then urged you to follow him towards your new life.

“Mr. Clarke!”

Your father turned at Douglas’ call, then beamed when he saw you. He abandoned the conversation and walked towards you with his arms out. You fell into his hug and savored the small comfort despite the conflict in your chest. He said your name and planted a kiss on the top of your head. You looked up at him when he pulled away, hoping that your expression gave nothing away.

 “I’m so happy you made it here safely. I trust the journey here was enjoyable?”

“It was, until the ride in the stage.”

He laughed. “You’ll become accustomed to it.”

“That’s what I told her, Mr. Clarke,” Douglas chirped.

“Good man!” 

Your father’s hearty laugh echoed in your head and bounced off the buildings. You leaned to the left and looked past your father’s shoulder at the man standing awkwardly on the porch. He met your eyes, his hair cut short on his head and his clothes perfectly tailored. A badge pinned on his vest glinted when he shifted towards you. You furrowed your brow and nodded your chin at him.

“Who is he?”

“Oh, that fellow?” Your father twisted to look back, then gestured for the man to join your clump. 

When he finally reached your father’s side, he gave you a slight bow. “I’m Phillip Graves. It’s a pleasure, miss.”

You gave him a weak smile. “How do you know my father?”

“My father used some of the profits from his fur trade to fund much of your father’s railroad company. When he passed a month ago, I took over and I’ve been working closely with Mr. Clarke ever since.”

“Phillip, please call me George. We’ll be closer than business partners soon.”

Closer than business partners? What in the hell was your father implying? Your hands grew clammy.

“I’m sorry for your loss, Mr. Graves.”

“Please, call me Phillip.”

Your father clapped him on the shoulder. “Well, I’ll let you get back to your duties as deputy. I wouldn’t want you to upset Sherriff Ryan.”

“I will see you later then, George.” He gave you a nod and took your hand, kissing your knuckles. “It was a pleasure. I look forward to seeing you again.”

Phillip turned and marched into the building. Your father watched him, then snapped back to focus his wide grin on you. 

“I apologize for the short notice, but I’m hosting a welcome party for you tonight.”

“Tonight?” Your eyes widened and you groaned. “Father, you cannot be serious. I look a mess and the clothes I packed need to be ironed!”

“I went to the trouble of having the seamstress sew something together for you.”

“You didn’t have to—"

A sudden hug forced the air out of your lungs with an oof. “Consider it a welcome gift.” He pulled back and sighed. “Now, let’s head home.”

As you marched down the road towards your father’s property—no, your new home—Douglas pointed out a few notable storefronts. The seamstress on the right, the general store on the left, the saloon on the corner where a new street intersects the main road—“We named it Providence Street,” your father noted—and the doctor just across the street from it. How convenient, you mused as you passed the door. You peered down the street while you walked through the intersection. Meek dwellings peppered it, the short, small cabins housing hopeful prospectors. The buildings lining the road started to spread apart from each other, only one property claiming the very end of main street. 

Finally, your trio approached the two-story home, its slanted roof and warm brown wood suddenly imposing under high noon. You stopped to stare when your toes reached the brick path leading to a shaded porch, the awning supported by four solemn cedar posts. In the distance, mountains scarred the sky; scattered around the home were the trees you’d watched crawl higher and stretch wider throughout the years. Your eyes flitted over the rope swing you’d abandoned after adolescence as a gentle breeze swayed the wooden seat. Lush green leaves offered shade around the property and wildflowers dotted it with splotches of color—you were glad you’d convinced your father to let nature take its course.

“You’re staring as if you’ve never seen it,” your father chuckled, snapping you out of your daze.

“Just savoring the moment, Papa.”

“There will be plenty of time for that later, my dove. For now, let’s go inside—you’ve had a long journey.”

You nodded and followed him, Douglas trailing behind you. Your father opened the front door and held it open for you with a wide smile. Your knees were weak as you crossed the threshold, the sweat on your skin and soaking into your clothes suddenly overwhelming. Excusing yourself and promising your return soon, you hurried up the plain white staircase with Douglas following in your frantic footsteps.

Immediately to the right at the top of the stairs was the door to your room. You turned to Douglas and held out your hands for your bags; he obliged with a nod and rushed back downstairs.

As soon as you stepped inside your room and shut the creaky door, your bags slipped out of your hands and hit the floor with a thud. Afternoon sun flooded the room through the windows in front of you and to your right, its burning light filtered by sheer white curtains. The chestnut armoire in the middle of the wall on your left faced a matching bed with plush sheets and pillows. A sweet siren song called you over and pulled you onto the mattress, finally relieving the fatigue you’d been fighting since morning. It bounced as you flopped belly-first onto it with a groan and a curse. 

Out of the corner of your eye you noticed rich purple fabric draped across your reading chair in the corner, and something sparkled on the side table next to it. You decided to investigate later as your eyes fluttered shut, the siren of sleep pulling you into the sea of dreams.

A clang filled Simon’s ears when the bars of the town jail cell closed, the air thick under the bandana hiding half his face. Outside, there was a muffled whinny—probably Johnny’s impatient Pinto, Eejit. On his left stood Price, stroking his beard and watching the sheriff like a hawk as he counted out their reward. Johnny leaned against the doorframe with a hand in his pocket while Gaz looked over the wanted posters nailed into the back wall. The deputy stood over the sheriff’s shoulder across from Simon to observe the transaction. The bounty they’d brought in muttered in the cell, no doubt sending curses their way.

“Eight, nine, one thousand.” The sheriff slid the stack of bills across his desk. He tipped his hat. “Thank you kindly, gentlemen.”

“Happy to help,” Price said, pocketing the money.

“Bastards! My men will kill you!” The bounty yelled, knuckles white as he gripped the cell’s iron bars. The unbothered sheriff lit a cigarillo and offered one to the deputy, who turned it down.

“Not if we get to’em first, mate,” Gaz responded. Simon turned to see him rip a few posters off the wall and hand them to Johnny, his careful hands folding them one by one.

Price turned his back to the sheriff. “Let’s go, lads. Saw a pub down th’road.”

The deputy interrupted their exit with a scoff. “The saloon is at the corner across from the general store.”

Simon turned on his heel and sent a hidden scowl his way, eyebrows pressed together. The deputy withered under the searing gaze but to his credit, he barely showed it. 

“I don’ give a fuck what you Yanks call it. If it serves whiskey and I pay for it, it’s a fuckin’ pub.”

He stormed out of the sheriff’s office and joined his group outside. Gaz and Johnny smirked at him as they untied their horses’ reins from the hitching rail, but Price shook his head. He started to count the money out and met Simon’s eyes under his hat when he gave him his cut. Even though no words were said, Simon could hear the older man scolding him for mouthing off. He smirked under his face cloth; Price knew that even a smack with the butt of his pistol wouldn’t change Simon. They joined the other two at their horses, untying them and urging them up the road single file.

A short walk up the road, and they were tying their horses up and then entering the town saloon. Jaunty music paused when Price parted the swinging doors and led the other three men inside, and it resumed once they swung closed behind Simon. Johnny wasted no time sauntering up to the bar and ordering a bottle of whiskey with four glasses while the others staked their claim on a table along the wall across from it. It was livelier than Simon had expected it to be in the late afternoon; the sun could still cut through the hazy, smoky air and shine on their sins. Gaz waved off a saloon girl and settled into the chair facing the wall, making sure not to block Simon’s view of the street outside.

Johnny arrived and set the whiskey and glasses in the center of the table with a grin. “Drink up lads, firs’ one ‘s’on me.” 

Price poured the amber alcohol, and each man took a glass. He raised his in the air and said, “Cheers to a job well done.”

“May the next one be even easier,” Gaz added.

They shared a chuckle and clinked their glasses. The whiskey burnt Simon’s throat, but it was a welcome change from stale canteen water. The longer he lived in the States, the more he got used to their pathetic excuse for whiskey. Johnny refilled his glass as soon as he set it down. Simon raised his eyebrow, and the Scot only shrugged before taking a sip of his refreshed drink. He supposed this was Johnny’s way of telling him to relax—maybe tonight, he would.

But it would take more than a bottle of whiskey, that was for bloody sure.

“I’ll be right back,” Simon flashed his container of tobacco as he stood up.

Gaz looked up quizzically. “Why won’ya smoke in here, Ghost?”

Simon shook his head and pushed his chair in. “Too many people in here starin’.”

He cut off any protest before it could begin with hurried steps back outside and onto the creaky wooden porch. A deep breath of fresh air instantly calmed his nerves. He turned to the right where there was shade and leaned against a sun-bleached post in front of where their posse’s horses were tied up. After calming his flighty eyes, he tugged his face cloth down and under his chin. Finally, he placed a cigarillo he’d rolled just the night prior by the campfire light between his chapped lips and lit it with the steady hand he used to fire the pistol on his hip. The first drag was smoother than the ride into town, an unexpected treat. He was going to make this last and blame the long smoke break on the distant mountains piercing the sky.

He'd be lying if he said American scenery was blander than boiled potatoes.

Shadows grew longer as the sun descended towards the horizon, late-afternoon light trickling over the land. Another deep inhale numbed his mind, a smoky exhale danced towards the blue sky. Two men in crisp suits walked past and glanced at him, then quickly returned to their lively conversation after noticing the holsters on his hips. This town was perfect for a quick bounty and a drink, but not much more, Simon decided, flicking ash on the ground. He watched the smoke rise as the gray bits fluttered down and landed on the porch, robbed of the chance to meet freedom above, doomed to a fate they couldn’t change. He put the rolled tobacco back in his mouth and looked up. 

Then, he saw her.

She stood in front of the general store fiddling with a piece of paper. The cigarillo nearly fell out of his mouth when the clouds parted and doused her in golden rays. She held her hand over her eyes and turned to her right, briefly scanning her surroundings and stopping on him. She returned his stare and made Simon her captive. If she walked over and demanded that he get on his knees and get under her skirt, he’d happily oblige. He shook his head and got the image out of his head—it was wrong to think of a lass like that, even more so when she looked that damn angelic.

When he opened his eyes, she had vanished, and his cigarillo was burnt out. He dropped it to the ground and snuffed it with the toe of his boot until it was ashy mush. He yanked the cloth back up over his nose and pushed the saloon doors open with a bang. His posse turned where they sat, watching him march to their table. His proposition would be a tough sell, but he had money in his pocket and would waste it all on squeaky beds and shitty whiskey if it meant they’d agree to it.

“We have to stay another night, lads.”

next

taglist: @johfaam0 @johfaam @nickangel13 @oliviagreenaway @sinfulsalutations @dheet @tizylish @sofasoap

[randomyuu]

A JJK GoYuu fancomic... of a fanfic (read right to left)

You know… despite me getting into JJK fandom this year, I’ve never drawn any JJK characters. (cue me drawing 9 whole-ass comic pages-)

This wonderful fic is titled (you'll whisper, serpent tongue) what you fear you have become by @voxofthevoid​. This comic covers chapter 1 scenes.

Beware of the tags, as the fanfic is NSFW. Oh, and also, manga spoilers! Major character and arc spoilers! I’ve read until chapter 4 and no NSFW so far, but still, beware!

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/43446157/chapters/109219954

I hope you enjoy reading this comic and the fanfic if you decide to!

Update: Chapter 6 scene fanart

More of my random thoughts and an early drawing of GoYuu below:

Have I told you I’m not used to drawing manga as well? Manga panels are pain. PAIN, I tell you. I shouldn’t have done this, but I did. I did, because every time I read the synopsis of this fic I keep picturing manga-like scenes. You should blame me for reading those AllYuu doujinshis.

It was… interesting experience. I was struggling a bit with the balloon consistency, like, do I use white boxes or just italic words for thoughts? Or maybe a balloon with a cloud-like border?

And there’s GoYuu (YuuGo? Idk honestly, don’t care lol) themselves. As I said, I literally have never drawn JJK-related content before. So when I started thinking about the panelling, I realised that I don’t really know how to draw Gojo, even more a thousand-year-old Yuuji. A whole day is spent researching Gojo, Yuuji and Sukuna’s appearances lol. Sukuna’s markings are a problem since I can’t find a full view of his markings. I know I can just finally watch the anime (yes I haven’t watched the anime, only some short clips; yes I know the animation is good, and I really want to watch it but my brain doesn’t want to) or re-read the manga, but I don’t want to ∠( ᐛ 」∠)＿

After going through Google images, Twitter and Reddit, I whipped up a front drawing of GoYuu as my reference:

Gojo’s is easier because he hasn’t changed from the official (I blatantly eyeballing the character sheet I found haha), but Yuuji is different. Yuuji’s hair is longer; if I recall, there’s no exact description of his clothes. I assume he’s topless due to this description: Messy pink hair, long enough to cover the creature’s nape but not to hide the segmented dark markings running down his back, shifts in the wind.

And halfway through storyboarding, I realised that I have no experience using screen tones. Whatsoever. So off I go searching for a screentone bundle I can freely download and slowly figure my way out after fully lining the page.

And we haven’t even touched perspective, background, achromatic colouring, non-human characters—man, I really bite more than I can chew lmaooo

Ah, the things you would do to satiate that drawing mood ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ

Also, I hope I’ll have time to draw more fanarts of JJK GoYuu fanfics because they live rent-free in my brain and I need them to get out. Maybe other pairings as well? I like quite a lot of pairings that involve Yuuji. He’s precious, and I love having it shown to me over and over through fanfics.