#i also have this one crackfic idea

[noco7]

any thoughts on cody and beth’s relationship? they did have the moment before cody’s elimination in island which ive always thought was interesting

I have soooo many thoughts about Cody & Beth, you have NO idea bestie.

So the incident you're talking about is how after Cody was wheeled to the dock of shame after being mauled by a bear, Beth kissed him on the cheek, right?

[Sidenote: Cody has been kissed by three people in canon, and none of them have been consensual. Poor guy.]

But back to Cody&Beth. She kissed him on the cheek, which usually indicates romantic interest. Yet they never interact again. Ever. Cody's not there for Action, and Beth isn't in WT. So this interaction goes nowhere.

And that's confusing to me, because it feels like such a Total-Drama ass ship. "Guy who liked the popular hot girl realizes that the homely girl next to him was the right fit." But if you're not convinced yet, allow me to walk you through it:

.Imagine, Cody's in Action. He can't go for Gwen because she's dating Trent, and despite what he said he's kinda glum about it. It's one thing to get them together, it's another to have to see them constantly.

Imagine Beth, who likes Cody, deciding this could be her chance.

And it works, because Cody is so-so-easy, and one girlfriend is better than no girlfriend. And this idea really appeals to me, because Cody's never had a chance to have a real relationship. He's idealized having a GF for years I bet, but how would he adjust to the reality? Especially when it's not the conventionally attractive girl he most likely dreamed of?

It probably isn't as cool. He and Beth get along fine, probably. They probably brag about each other. Not in a “yay I’m dating X,” but “Wow, I have a boyfriend, now!” and "I HAVE A GIRLFRIEND!!" It’s more about the status change than anything else. Cody probably opens every single door for her, and acts like he did smth. Beth is thrilled.

But maybe they start annoying each other. Cody can only keep up the gentlemanly person for so long, and Beth is not the most tactful person either. They don't hate each other, but it's clear the honeymoon period is over.

And Gwent is going on in the background, getting rockier and rockier, and Cody's probably like "if Gwen goes single, might have to make a few decisions." Because Gwen's still his dream girl, remember? I doubt he magically got over her.

And Beth overhears this or smth, and like a lot of young girls, she thinks it's because she's "not pretty enough." Cue angst, cue "glow up." It's a movie season, so why not parody the nerd girl makeover trope. And so Beth is dazzlingly beautiful, and Cody, inconsiderate Cody, probably asks why she can't look like this every day.

This can lead to two routes: Beth dumps him, and Cody has to learn from his mistakes. Which would be super cool.

Or Beth could get her makeover ruined via whatever challenge they're doing, break down, and say she's worried Cody won't like her anymore. And Cody's like "..." Pretty ashamed. And then Beth reveals that the makeover took hours or smth, and Cody's like "shit? i didn't know that? damn." and so he realizes how much effort she puts in, and that he's in the Wrong. That she's trying so hard to compensate for his own shallowness, and he needs to be a better person. Because it's his fault this happened. Very angsty, but leads to good moments with them both, where Beth gets to communicate and Cody gets to reflect. Maybe he even admits that he's not the hottest guy either, and he's insecure about that. Could be interesting. I really like hurt/comfort moments that challenge the "Comfort-er" to change their own perspective. And Cody has a lot of perspectives that need to be changed, imo.

But after that, uhhh…. I have no idea?  Maybe they start geeking out together, and hopefully, just start getting more comfortable together as people. That'd be nice. But I don't particularly care either way.

When it comes to ships that aren't noco, I'm the writer who has like, "one good scene," and then the rest is hazy, lol. 

Anywayyyy, I think Beth/Cody could have had a decent arc, and really portray the "teen romances aren't that cool," element perfectly. It would also make Beth a more sympathetic character because Cody is so ugh that he'd make any girl look better by his side.

I don't know why TD didn't go with it, tbh. Maybe Beth's kiss was just a joke to further illustrate her "Boney-Island-Curse" she ends up accidentally pushing Cody off the dock. Maybe they just didn't think Cody in a relationship would be interesting, which is fair. Maybe they had more important things to tackle. Maybe it was pretty privilege - I've tracked TD canon couples, and every girl on there is conventionally attractive, whether their man is or not. You could counter Harold/Leshawna, but that ship didn't really go anywhere. And even if it counts, it's still kinda SUS. But it also could be because there are very few TD girls that *aren't* conventionally attractive. So maybe that's why. Or maybe it's every reason all at once, or maybe it's something I haven't thought of. Maybe they didn't think of it at all. And that's fair. I don't think the writers can or should account for every errant relationship idea. So tl;dr: Beth/Cody could have been a really awkward teen relationship that people found relatable. It didn't happen, and that's okay. But it's still interesting.

[gmanweatherreport]

Finally i present to you a lot of random shit from brain

[just-some-random-blogger]

Accidental Targ

Scene III: i told you to hold my hand! | Masterlist

Daemon Targaryen x Modern!Reader

Summary: After coming to terms with the fact you were in King's Landing some two thousand years before your birth, you get reunited with your friend and try to manifest your way back to the present. For the meantime, Harwin Strong is your bodyguard.

Word Count: 4k+

Warnings: fem!reader, time travel au, descriptions of reader's hair, incestuous gremlin!daemon, very sus and innappropriate boss-employee dynamics, low key sugar daddy!otto hightower vibes, crackfic, typos, etc.

A/N: GUYS I DID IT. I FINISHED IT 😫 Also, its come to my attention that perhaps the way i planned out everything geographically is ??? bad but no its not just roll with it AND!! remember yall voted for him ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ i have a feeling you didnt read the prompt fully but whatever HAHAHAA i honestly have no idea where i meant to take this fic, so ???? enjoy?? HAHHAAH

Shoot me if I ever say it again, but for now: gods bless capitalism, specifically for it desecrating a national landmark.

Where once I was one of the people who protested against the building of the High Garden Centre, girl, was I thankful that the old ruins of the fucking Red Keep laid there as a little ol' artsy featurette.

"What's that sound?" Daemon asks as we stand from our spot.

I turn to my side, never before so relieved to hear and see, no more than two blocks away, a rave spilling out of a club, the very one Libby and I were at before we got into this shit show. "That, my prince, is called EDM."

I hurriedly run to Libby's side to pick her up, but Daemon does that himself. He get down and pulls the blue haired woman on his back, and I help him. At the same time, I feel a buzz from my satchel.

My phone!

Daemon watches me as I frantically claw for my device. The amount of texts and call notifications that pop up on my screen is overwhelming. I decide to just let it go off and grab Daemon's arm, "come on."

We walk down from the ruins, shifting through the shrubs and foliage around it. I catch the sight a mall cop and feel agitated when he looks over. He couldn't care less though, the site was open to the public after all, and with a literal club being right there, we were the least of his worries.

We pass the rusty chain fence surrounding it, and draw near Harrenhal (the club). Once we're there, a bunch of men hoot and holler at me. I ignore them as they say something about my 'Targaryen' hair and it dawns on me they were probably calling me princess and lady because I was still in a fucking Targaryen era dress.

Still, I ignore the stupid fucks as they ask to see my pretty skirt, opting to walk faster instead. I was horrified by how loud and violent Daemon's scream was.

He shouted so gutturally that I couldn't understand a lick of The High Valyrian flaming out of his mouth. The vein on his neck popped out and I literally had to hold him back from charging and dropping Libby.

"Daemon, please!" I whimper, heart racing, "Libby's still on you-"

"Grab her and I'll fucking ram steel down- COME OVER HERE AND SAY THAT AGAIN. SAY THAT-"

Steel? I look to his belt. Fucking seven hells, he brought Dark Sister?

I look back at him with wide eyes, feeling nauseous now that I've caught how maddened he looked.

In a panic, I gently pat his face while pulling his arm back, "Daemon, please."

He doesn't look at me.

My voice gets softer and my eyes water, "Daemon, I beg you."

He huffs and clenches his jaw, still not sparing me a glance.

"We don't have time for them," I whisper and keep my hand on his cheek, "I'm just going to connect to the club's wifi from here, then I'll can call us an Ubor."

Daemon does not tear his gaze from the men, who eventually waddle away to whatever sewer they came from, still hollering bullshit as they did.

"Kesan daor nārhēdegon naejot nyetodha aōha irosh," Daemon mutters. I will not forget to slit your throats.

The relief that washed over me was unparalleled when I booked an Ubor set to arrive in 3 minutes. I whimper and rub my eyes, "okay, not long now."

Daemon finally looks at me, still visibly pissed, and adjusts Libby on his back.

I wipe my face, "we're just going to get in the c-" Fuck... I should probably prepare him for the car.

"Okay," I raise my hands, "we're going to get in a metal..." I motion to the space, "... there's going to be a- a- carriage? But with no horse... but and when I get in, you just get in with me, okay?"

Daemon's expression is now one of confusion.

I sigh and place a hand on his shoulder, "it's going to be okay."

His lips curl, "... OK."

I screw my eyes shut and shake my head rapidly, "I mean alright. Alright! ALRIGHT!"

Daemon takes in my visible frustration and nods slowly, "OK."

To be honest, Daemon was a pretty good Ubor passenger, save for the fact his sword nearly cut me, Libby, him and the fucking car seats when he tried to sit without removing his scabbard first. We were lucky the driver seemed to be used to... ren fair people.

He also seemed to be used to driving people to the ER. I was too relieved to think realize how fucked up that kinda is in the moment. Needless to say, I gave him 5 stars and an extra tip.

With Dark Sister in my grip and Libby in Daemon's arms, we finally made it to Lannister Medical Center.

The moment we get there, I run inside the ER and break down at the first nurse I see. I infodump everything, how Libby got attacked, how Harwin lost her, how some maesters tried to help us, how she lost a lot of blood, how I'm afraid she's going to die, how Daemon ended up carrying her, and I just keep going up until I saw Libby's blue hair scattered on a stretcher and the nurse told me to sit down.

I didn't have much fight in me left to argue, so I sit myself down on the bench. But then I see the nurse speaking to Daemon, who, seemed to be explaining what had happened, and I panic all over again.

Before I could stand though, another nurse was there to accommodate me. He did a checkup on me, asked me how I was feeling, and asked if I needed anything to calm down.

I told him I was fine and proceeded to answer his other questions. Daemon eventually came to my side and eyed him.

The nurse gives me a nod and offers a smile, "you seem to be physically well. Just let yourself relax. The doctors have your friend; they'll do their best to help her."

"Thank you."

The nurse nods again. He gives me and Daemon one last look before walking off.

I grab Daemon's hand once it's just the two of us. I look up and shudder, "we did it."

He looks down at me, violet eyes solemn. He brings a hand to my cheek and swipes at my cheek, "ȳdra daor limagon."

"I don't know what that means," I mumble.

"I said don't cry, pretty girl," he kneels in front of me, "worrying will not save your friend."

I stare at him, feeling my heart race and belly roll because of the look he had. He brushes my silver hair back behind my shoulders, only intensifying the flurry in my stomach. Just as I opened my mouth to speak, suddenly, my stomach growls. Oh.

Daemon turns his eyes to my belly as I clutch it.

"You want something to eat... prince?"

Daemon reaches a hand out, "lead the way."

I take his hand, grab Dark Sister, and hand it to him. He fastens his scabbard as we exit the ER and I go through my satchel, fishing for my wallet. Just before I get it, I remember that I blew most of my money on the Ubor.

"Fuck," I curse and turn to Daemon, "I don't have enough money."

Daemon rests his hand on his sword and simply stairs.

"I don't have coin," I clarify. I look around the road and figure our chances of riding a bus at this hour was nonexistent. I give him a look, "do you mind walking home with me?"

Daemon raises a brow, "as opposed to swimming home with you?"

I raise my brows and sigh, "Daemon-"

"Lead the way," he nods and points, "I am not one to tire easily."

I nod and slice through air to drive a point, "okay. No matter what happens," I reach out to him, "you have to hold my hand, okay?"

He looks at my hand then my face, his violet eyes sparkle with amusement. He chuckles but he links his fingers between mine (overkill if you ask me). I'm glad goosebumps don't form.

Daemon smiles softly, "you take me for a child, riña?"

"This child knows how to cross the street," I squeeze his hand harder than necessary and begin to walk off, "I'm not sure you do, kekepa." Grandfather.

Daemon laughs, full-on throwing his head back, "how hard is it to cross? You jus-"

His words go dry when an empty school bus passes us. He was so stunned by the yellow contraption, I had to tug his arm to continue walking.

Just then, a Megatron looking-ass truck drives down the street. I hiss and curse the 14 wheeler for emitting such horrible smoke, eyeing it as it drives away.

Meanwhile, I catch the prince's stunned reaction and almost feel bad for finding it funny. Almost.

We arrive at my apartment about 20 minutes later.

I press the elevator button and turn to Daemon, "don't put your arm between the door, okay?"

Daemon gives me a look.

The elevator opens and we step inside. Daemon gives me a look, "we have lifts you know."

I pull my head back, "you do?"

"At the wall," Daemon retorts as the elevator door closes.

"The wall?" I think for a moment, "ahh. You're right."

A beat.

I knit my brows, "wait, you've been to the wall?"

"Of course I've been to the wall."

The moment we get to my place, relief washes over me. I take my shoes off and scoop my hair in front, "fucking rip this dress off me."

Without a single thought between his brows, Daemon's reaches out to undo the ties at the back of my dress.

Just before he does this, I hear him walk in with his boots and nearly have a heart attack when he passes my threshold.

"OH, ABSOLUTELY NOT!" I turn and shove him back, "take your crusty boots off now!"

Daemon looks at me in bewilderment but walks back and doesn't protest as he removes his shoes. He places his shoes on the rack along with mine.

Not wasting time, he catches my arm and yanks me towards him. He spins me around and immediately undoes the back of my dress. I hastily begin to tug my dress down once I can.

He chuckles, "eager girl."

I rather literally jump out of my dress when I can. Pent-up rage overcomes me. I turn around and start kicking the dress away, releasing all my frustration and anger out on the thing. I curse 8th century Westeros and the Red Keep in particular and assault the object until I'm out of breath.

I proceed to jump onto my sofa and allow exhaustion to finally take over my being.

A second later, I catch Daemon's expression and realize, he probably thought he was going to get lucky when I asked him to basically strip me naked.

"Ahh," I get back on my feet, "sorry about," I point to the dress, "that."

Daemon says nothing as he steps closer. He reaches out for my hip and I swat his hand away. I shake my head, "this is my house."

He chuckles as I evade him on my way to the kitchen, which was not nearly as far as it should have been. The prince eyes the space, "yes. An impressive little room you've got." He follows after me, "I'd love to see the rest of it."

I look at him as I reach my fridge and open the door.

Daemon squints at the light that radiates on me. I cuss at the fact I only had cereal (no milk) and some vegetables that have gone bad. I grab the paper box and hand it to him. He blankly stares at it as I discard the vegetables.

Daemon's brows contort at he box, "it's cold."

I wash my hands, "yeah, refrigerators do that."

"Gra'-nola," he reads.

"Granola," I correct as I dry my hands on my shift.

I'm suddenly struck with the realization his grubby has have never seen antibacterial soap. I snatch the box from him and motion to the sink, "wash your hands."

Daemon turns to the sink and purses his lips.

For a second, I debate if he'd melt if he uses something antiseptic, but then figure I should still take my chances.

I prop the cereal on the counter and exemplify him how to wash his hands. Daemon, with slight reluctance, pumps some hand wash on his palm, opens the sink, and rinses.

I excitedly applaud him once he was done.

"A hand towel," he raises his dripping hands.

I look around even though I didn't have a hand towel. I shrug, "I usually just use my pants."

Daemon shakes his hands by the sink, "your pants?"

"Yeah. They're like clothes that you put on your-"

He grabs my shift and pulls me closer. He wipes his hands on it, "I know what pants are, princess."

I push him off and smirks as he dodges. I make a face, "well, I do so beg your pardon, your majesty."

The prince lets out a low laugh, "don't get too brazen, or I'll have you begging till you weep."

I quickly change the subject, "get that damned sword off your hip." I shoo him and rummage through my kitchen cabinets.

Daemon watches this and chuckles again. He tilts his head as he eyes my legs. He undoes his scabbard, sets it on my dining table, and pulls out a chair. He sits down just as I find a can of Sbam. Huzzah!

I grab a chopping board and open the can. A small smile spreads on the prince's lips as stares. But then, his expression drops when I shake, or try to shake, the processed meat out of the can.

I huff once I've succeeded, and I begin to cut the Sbam chunk, "you know this was in created during the war," I slice a piece, "it saved a lot of people from starvation."

"Which war?"

I freeze when he says this. I open my mouth then close it, unsure if recounting the details of world wars to him was a good idea, "you know what, never mind that."

Once I was done with the Sbam, I got a pan and heat it up. I get a plate and a loaf of bread, then place it on the table.

I click my tongue at the sight of his sword, "off the table!"

Daemon watches as I take Dark Sister and replace it with the plate and bread. I place the sword by the shoes and he takes the plastic wrapped bread. He feels the material and opens it, "what is this?"

"Bread," I retort, going back to my pan.

"No, I know that, but what's it wrapped with?"

I give him a quick look, "oh, plastic," I begin to cook the Sbam, "it's made of carbon... I think- I dunno- don't quote me on that."

Daemon opens the bag and takes a slice of bread. He pulls his had back, "it's sliced."

I beam and jump excitedly, "it is! It's sliced bread! Betty White is older than sliced bread! And so are you!"

Daemon ignores this as he sniffs the piece in his hand. He takes a bite then and makes a face, "why does it taste like that?"

"Like what?"

His brows knit and his eyes narrow, "like a pretender."

I burst into a laugh. I flip over the Sbam with a spatula, "imitation bread?"

"It wants so earnest to be bread," he pushes the loaf away and shakes his head, "but it clearly isn't."

I laugh even harder.

He snorts at my reaction. He smiles as leans back on his chair. A few moments later, he grows serious, "you ought to dismiss your royal baker."

Oh. My lips twitch and I chuckle under my breath, "ah, yes. My royal baker. Yes, I will dismiss my royal baker for making horrible sliced bread. Yes."

The Sbam was now cooked. I present it to him on a plate, "bon app-- ... I hope you like it."

Daemon leans forward to scrutinize the dish.

I press my lips into a line as I sit down next to him. I take a slice of imitation bread and fold in a slice of Sbam. I realize just how hungry I was after taking a bite. Through half-full mouth, I mutter, "it's good."

Daemon watches me and follows suit. He takes some bread and Sbam, then chomps.

I stop chewing. Wait, what if he gets an instant heart attack because his living fossil-self can't handle processed food?

He licks his lips and chews. I begin to grow more agitated as he makes a face.

"It's delicious," Daemon says, going in for another bite.

My agitation turns into shock, "really?!"

"Well, it's no roasted pork, but it'll suffice," he mutter between chews.

I let out a soft laugh and nod, "I'm glad it's enough for the prince."

"I'm honored the princess herself made it for me."

Aw, fuck. Who's gonna tell him?

There is a knock on my door. At the same time, my phone rings.

Daemon is alerted by the sound and I dash away to finally answer my phone.

"What is that?" the prince asks.

"It's my phone. Remember? You can call people with it."

Daemon narrows his eyes as I rummage my bag for my device. The knocking on the door gets louder.

I turn to the door, "just a minute."

I find my phone and feel my stomach drop at the caller ID. The banging on the door persists.

I answer the phone and head for the door, "hello?"

"Fucking hells!" the voice is worn and apparently worried, "where the fuck have you bee-"

"It's not you outside, is it?" I cut him off as I head for the door.

"What?! No! I'm in the fucking North, dammit! Your friends have been calling me nonstop, since fucking Sunday! -"

I open the door and my face falls. Standing before me is a man in a dark teal suit; his tie was loose, his stubble was thick, and he held what looked like a dozen bags in his hands.

"- You and Libby have been fucking missing for days! Where-"

"Mr. Hightower," I lower my phone as the man on the other end continues to chastise me.

Otto Hightower looks me up and down, then sighs, "out of the way."

Without another thought, I step back to let him in. He expertly slips out of his leather shoes then heads towards my sofa. He places all the bags on the coffee table. I follow after him.

I hear my name being shouted from my phone. I close the door and follow after Otto.

I listen in on the call again and I hiss when the voice pierces my ear drum, "Jon, calm down."

"CALM DOWN!? HOW CAN I BE CALM WHEN YOU WON'T TELL ME ANYTHING!?"

I begin to panic when Daemon walks over.

"Who is that?" Otto asks me. He notices Daemon, then makes a face, "who are you?"

I look at Otto, then Daemon, and dash over to the prince, grabbing his hand. I watch in real time the recognition and disbelief that floods the Targaryen's features as he watches the other slowly remove his tie.

"Libby and I got stuck in the ren-fair!" I reply to my phone.

"WHY DIDN'T YOU FUCKING CALL?!"

"MY PHONE DIED, JON!" I shout back a lie.

Otto's brow raises. He looks at me and mouths, "Jon?"

I ignore that and groan "LOOK! I'm fine! Libby's-- ... Libby's," I whisper softly, "in the ER-"

"THE ER-"

"I'M TAKING CARE OF HER!"

"WHY THE FUCK IS SHE IN THE ER?!"

"Libby's in the ER?" Otto mutters.

I raise a finger to answer my phone, "Jon, please. I'll explain everything tomorrow."

He screams my name and I have to rip my phone away from my ear again. I vaguely hear him rant about how I should explain why his sister is in the fucking ER.

"Jon, Jon, I love you but I have to go," I quip and immediately end the call. I turn on airplane mode and throw my phone on to the couch.

I release a breath and find myself pulling a smile as the man in the suit eyes me. He's about to speak, but Daemon beats him to it.

"What was that?" the prince asks, pulling me by the arm to face him.

I turn to him and make a face. It's Otto that answers for me, "her ex boyfriend."

I turn to Otto as he tilts his head and raises a brow, as if daring me to correct him.

I do, "my best friend's brother."

Daemon eyes Otto; the latter makes a face, "who used to your lover," he crosses his arms, "I'm offended you take his calls but not mine."

"And who are you?" Daemon hisses, stepping towards him.

Without missing a beat, Otto meets his gaze and scoffs, "who are you?"

Daemon's pulls his chin back and chuckles dryly. His expression screamed FUCK AROUND AND FIND OUT.

I jump in front of him, my back presses his chest. I give a nervous laugh, "Mr. High- Director- Mr. Director- sir. This is Daemon."

Otto watches as I grip Daemon's hands behind me.

"And Daemon," I barely look at him over my shoulder, "this is... my... employe-"

"Otto Hightower," he cuts me off, bringing his hand into his breast pocket, "Director and CFO of King's Landing Holdings."

I wince, fuck.

"King's Landing?!" Daemon laughs out loud.

Otto produces a business card.

"It's a company!" I turn around and wave my hands, "it's a company! An establishment!"

Daemon does not tear his eyes away from him.

"He's my employer!" I explain.

Otto offers a piece of paper between his fingers.

The prince looks at it and slightly pushes me away, "what's he doing here then?"

"That's hardly any of your business," Otto retorts, tucking his business card back into his pocket.

Daemon laughs and finally turns to me. He mutters something in High Valyrian along the lines of 'let me do something' and 'stabbing'. I frantically shake my hand and push him back.

He thankfully relents and I sit him back down on my dining table.

My relief is fleeting when I realize the only reason Daemon didn't refute was because Otto was trailing right after me. My stomach drops when I feel a hand on my back.

Otto is right behind me. He places a few of the paper bags he brought on the table. He opens them, "I bought you dinner."

I turn to him, intent to tell him he shouldn't have.

"Amongst other things," he adds.

Daemon barks, "we have dinner."

"How did you even know I was home?" I say at the same time.

Otto's eyes flick to him, to the plate of Sbam on the table. His face is blank as looks back to me. He decides to remove his coat jacket, "I suppose you'd-" eyes Daemon, "-also think a candle equal to a campfire."

"Mister Hightower," I helplessly mutter.

He hangs his jacket on the backrest. He turns to me, "and you were missing--"

My expression sours.

"-- what did you expect me to do? I obviously utilized my connections. I'm offended you'd ask me such a thing."

Daemon mutters something in High Valyrian again.

"Of course, I had come see you myself," he looks at me through his lashes as rolls up his sleeves. My eyes dart to his sleeve tattoos and arm veins. When I begin to scrutinize the hairs on his skin, I realize I've stared to long.

In a panicked frenzy, I begin to unpack one of the paper bags. He, himself, brings out a stack of food containers and places them on the table.

The smell alone makes my stomach grumble.

Otto steps away and comes back with plates and cutlery. He places one plate in front of me, and has a prolonged stare at Daemon before placing the other in front of Daemon. He says, "I would hate for prince Daemon to be reduced to eating Sbam for dinner."

My expression drops. Daemon does not move an inch.

Otto turns to me and pulls out the chair. I take a moment before sitting down, because, really, did I have any other choice?

Otto opens the containers one by one and my mouth waters as I see lobster, lamb, and lemon cakes. He serves me meat and veggies, "I would assume you're not hurt like your friend."

I watch as he places food on my plate. I gulp before responding, "I'm just... tired."

"Then, I would also assume you'll not be attending work tomorrow," he takes my hand, putting the utensils in them. He scrapes a chair to my side and sits down next to me, urging me to eat with a motion.

I look at Mr. Hightower, "oh no- I will! I will-"

"You won't," he raises a hand, "see to it you're well rested."

I turn to my plate, feeling a flurry in my stomach over his words.

"Are you not going to serve your prince?" Daemon cuts in, raising his brows.

The lamb I was about to eat drops back to my plate.

The two glare, as if willing the other to spontaneously combust.

Before anything else could happen, I stand and reach out to Daemon's plate. I squeak when both grab me by the wrist.

My throat tightens.

My heart races when Daemon stands, "release her."

Otto raises his brows and tilts his head, "sit back down."

I rip my wrists out of their grips. Thankfully, neither put up a fight.

They stare at each other for what felt like ages. My agitation rockets when I see my boss begin to fidget with his hands the way he did when he was annoyed and ready to do something drastic.

I give Daemon a panicked look and grab his wrist, "kostilus." Please.

Daemon clenches his fist.

I continue to beg him until he sits.

I squeak when he grabs my chair by the seat and pulls me towards him. He mutters, "kesan daor emagon ao va bona run." I will not have you near that thing.

I turn to Director Hightower; I could see his annoyance building.

Fuck.

"Miste-" "Enjoy your meal then," he speaks as he stands. He grabs his coat and points, "I've bought some first aid things. I'm sure your friend can help you put that away."

I move to stand but Daemon stops me. He looks up at Otto in disgust, "do mind the steel contraptions on your way out."

I snap at Daemon, eyeing him hotly. He places a hand over my legs, ensuring I do not evade him. I watch as Mr. Hightower heads for the door, and in a split second decision, I turn to the prince and kiss him on the lips.

He is evidently taken aback, but it only takes him another second to get into it. Once he's put his guard down, I rip away from him and chase after my boss just as he exits my apartment.

"MR. HIGHTOWER!"

Otto turns around. I huff as I meet him just outside my door, "I'm really sorry about him. He's... he's just like that."

"You're not responsible for the actions of others," he retorts, nonchalant.

"I know. But still-"

"You are responsible for the company you keep," he adds.

I brush my silver hair back, "and you're not responsible for my well-being."

He snorts and shakes his head, "I'm your superior."

I press my lips into a thin line, deciding not to get into this conversation right now, "that, you are, Director."

We stare at each other for a moment. I examine his well-ironed suit, noticing how he didn't bother to fix his tie or buttons any more.

"I'll-"

"Is he not-" Daemon kicks the door open.

My eyes widen, "DAEMON-"

"-fucking gone yet?!" he points Dark Sister in an offensive stance. I yelp when he swings his weapon and scratches the door.

Otto's fight or flight instincts kick in and he takes flight down the hall.

"DAEMON-" I scream. I duck down and grab him by the torso, "STOP IT!"

Daemon screams out in High Valyrian. He laughs and lowers his sword, "yeah, you better run."

[anyasathenaeum]

Hello! I feel like I might have already requested this before your ask box was wiped, but how about a virgin!Knives x Reader smutfic?? I love how you characterized him as shy and flustered over the idea of sex in that one crackfic you wrote 😵 I hope you have a great day and life is treating you well!! You're one of my favorite writers regardless of what you write :D

A/N: Hey anon! Yes, I remember this request! I'm so sorry it took me so long to get to it, but here it is! This is my first (serious) attempt at smut with Knives, so uhhhhhhhhh please don't come for me, I tried my best. I've decided to start with some headcanons followed by the fic itself, apologies - it's long. Also, anon - thank you SO much for your comment, you're super sweet and I'm sorry I took so long to get to this. All the best! Warnings: MINORS DNI, Virgin!Knives, AFAB!reader (female terminology is used), hinting towards plants having "heats", a touch of yandere-ish behaviour (it's Knives, so not entirely surprising) penetrative sex, P in V sex, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it folks), reader is submissive in this one, rough sex, marking, a little bit of a breeding kink, Knives being a Loser™, he's kinda in love with you but the fucker definitely refuses to admit it, name-calling (Knives calls reader things like "slut" and such) Word Count: 3.3k

Virgin!Knives is definitely not nearly as confident and as ruthless as he is in all other points of his life - he might seem like he knows what he's doing, but deep down? Man is SHY, but he'd rather die than have anybody realize that

Seriously, you won't ever hear him talking about sex, and he doesn't even use the word if he can afford to outside of the bedroom

When it comes to his first time, he likes to make it seem like he's in charge and like he fucks all the time, but he's literally just a hair breadth away from cumming the moment you touch him for the first time.

Would absolutely make you ride him (mostly because he has no idea what he's doing), but he plays it off with cool indifference and because he "just wants you to please him".

He tries to make up for it, trying to be more forceful or rough with his thrusts, talking dirty to you and calling you names, but it's a double-edged sword because the moment you're crying out his name and squeezing around him, he sees stars and cums WAY too soon.

Basically, Virgin!Knives is a mess and wants to seem like he's still in charge in bed, but with a few thrusts of your own, driving him deeper and deeper into you, you'd have him falling apart beneath you in moments.

But, of course, because he's not human, his stamina is INSANE and the moment he cums for the first time inside you, it unhinges him (do I sense a breeding kink???) and suddenly he's chasing orgasm after orgasm using you, and you're definitely not gonna be leaving his bed for the next few days.

Full fic below! Enjoy!

"Are you sure this is what you want, Master Knives?"

The question slipped from your lips before you could stop yourself. You just couldn't believe what you were hearing.

Millions Knives, the independent plant who you'd been working for for years, had had you brought to his chambers in the middle of the night so that he could ask you something important.

"Are you questioning me, pet?"

The way Knives glared at you, his gaze cold and calculated, made shivers course down your spine, and you quickly bowed your head.

"No, Master Knives. Not at all. I was merely surprised by your request. I apologize."

Knives simply raised his eyebrow as he continued to gaze at you, taking in your form as you stood before him. You'd initially been just some filthy human he was forced to keep around due to your utility and your skills, but over time, as much as Knives refused to admit to it, you'd grown on him. You were one of the more intelligent of your species, it seemed, and one that seemed to know its place whenever you spoke to him. But, in the end, you were still just a lowly, miserable human, part of the plague that threatened Plants across the planet.

So... why?

Why did Knives feel this... pull towards you? Why did he have to fight the urge to be near you each and every time he spotted you, the urge to tuck you against him with his wing and whisk you away, out of sight and out of reach of all others? Why did he feel rage boiling up within him whenever you smiled or laughed at something somebody else had said? A fair share of other henchmen had lost lives and limbs just for speaking to you (not that you knew that, of course - they just conveniently "disappeared" during a mission).

Beyond just those moments, Knives had also noticed... other things. A warmth that seemed to bloom from whatever part of him had brushed your skin, spreading through the rest of his body until it became full blown heat. This heat was unbearable to resist and made him feel as though it were burning him alive from the inside out, unquenchable even when he took matters into his own hands time and time again.

Knives wasn't a fool. He knew of the lust and the need to reproduce that his kind often felt, but he'd never experienced it himself ever before. Not until you showed up. But, you were part of the very thing Knives had sworn to destroy, so why did his body call to you in this way? Why did his body betray him so? What was it about you that made him feel this way?

"You heard me, (Y/N)," Knives spoke slowly and quietly, his gaze not leaving you for a moment as he lounged on his bed, "I wish for you to stay the night."

"Yes, Master Knives."

"You will not speak of this to anybody," he continued, his voice scarily level, "Or I shall ensure you are permanently silenced."

You simply bowed your head again, your heart pounding frantically in your chest.

You had always had an interest in Knives - asides from being somebody who was hired to work from him, you found him a truly interesting being. An independent plant, more beautiful than any living creature you'd ever seen before, hellbent on exterminating the human race to save his sister plants and trying to find his twin brother, another independent plant. He was always transparent of his end goal, and despite it all, you had still agreed to work for him. After all, humanity was a mess and it wasn't going to get any better - you'd seen proof of that time and time again throughout your life.

So, here you were - working tirelessly so he could achieve his goal.

Although, you hadn't expected to be summoned to Knives's chambers so late in the night, and you certainly hadn't anticipated him to wish for you to stay the night. You'd been summoned to his chambers several times in the past, sometimes for work purposes, other times simply on a whim, and you weren't ignorant of the way you felt around Knives.

His presence made you feel simultaneously safe and on edge, as if something was always just about to occur. As though there were always words hanging in the air between you two, just waiting to be spoken but never truly acknowledged.

Despite his reputation of being unforgiving and ruthless, you'd never been on the receiving end of that side of him, somehow. He could be harsh and sharp with his words and his actions, but he'd never caused you any true harm. You couldn't ignore the way your skin felt as though electricity coursed through it whenever Knives accidentally brushed against you, or the way the heat rose to your cheeks whenever you found him watching you intently. He never looked away immediately whenever you caught him staring at you, simply maintaining his gaze and ensuring to keep eye contact with you for a couple moments before looking away almost lazily, as if he'd grown bored of you. But the fact that he did it so often... could it mean?...

You didn't dare let yourself hope. It couldn't possibly mean anything. After all, you were just a human. Unworthy of him in every possible way.

And yet, here you were, summoned to his chambers in the middle of the night and told you were to stay with him overnight. Your mind was in overdrive, trying to figure out what this meant.

"W-Where am I to sleep, Master Knives?" You inquired softly, not daring to look up at him.

Knives would've scoffed and laughed had it been any other person standing before him, but this was you. His pet, of sorts. And as much as he refused to accept it, you softened him. You weakened him.

"We'll address that later, pet. Come here."

Before you could process everything, you found yourself approaching Knives's bed, stopping right before it and waiting for his commands, not wanting to overstep.

"Did I not make myself clear? Here, pet," Knives all but hissed, making it clear he wanted you right on the bed next to him.

Blushing slightly, you quickly followed his demand, crawling into his bed so you were right by his side. You could feel his gaze on you, and you risked a glimpse at his face - his expression was surprisingly calm, almost curious as he studied you as you sat there next to him on his bed.

"Don't move," Knives whispered quietly, bringing his hand up to your face.

Immediately, you froze, almost afraid to breathe.

"So obedient," you heard Knives chuckle, clearly amused, "What a good pet I have."

Without further comments, you felt Knives's fingers beginning to trace over your skin, skimming lightly over your cheeks and making his way over the bridge of your nose, then down over your lips. His touch was surprisingly gentle, more gentle than you ever thought him capable, but you remained silent as he continued his barely-there touches.

You struggled to ignore the beating of your heart and the roaring of your blood in your ears, your whole body feeling like a livewire. You had to remind yourself not to let your mind wander and make your hidden desires obvious, but something in the way Knives was watching you made you believe that he already knew of your hidden desires. You felt your face heating up even worse than before as you looked away from Knives, suddenly finding the threading of the bedding very interesting.

"I don't understand you."

Knives's sudden voice startled you, making you jump slightly as you sat there next to him. However, you remained silent, waiting for him to continue.

"Look at me, (Y/N)."

Slowly, you brought your gaze up to look at Knives, trying not to let your heart beat straight out of your chest as you did so. His icy blue gaze was steady as it trained on your face, still studying you even intently.

"What do you not understand about me?" You asked quietly, steeling yourself as you held Knives's gaze.

After a couple moments, Knives replied quietly, "I don't understand what it is about you that makes my body feel this way. How you, a mere human... are the only one who has the ability to set my soul and my body aflame. I get no rest because of you."

You felt your heart stop for a moment before it began to thunder violently in your chest, your eyes widening in surprise. There was no way that he meant what you thought he meant.

"Master Knives, I-"

"Nai."

You looked at him curiously, and Knives simply continued, "In here, I'm not Master Knives. My name is Nai. You use my name, here and only here."

"Yes, Nai," you replied softly, testing out his name on your tongue.

"I think you know why I've summoned you to stay the night, now. Don't you, (Y/N)?"

You nodded, making Nai smirk slightly, "Clever pet."

Without a second of hesitation, you felt Nai's hand cup the back of your neck, pulling you down against him and slotting his lips to yours in a passionate, lustful kiss.

You let out a small, muffled yelp as you fell forward onto him, your lips pressing against his and your eyes wide in surprise. His taste was surprisingly bright, and you found yourself melting into the kiss, eyes closing and matching his passion in the kiss within moments. You felt Nai's hands burying themselves into your hair as he pulled you on top of him, holding you close to him as he continued to kiss you lustfully, his desire for you overwhelming his typically-controlled self.

Despite the kiss being lustful and filled with desire, you found that Nai's kiss still felt as though he were holding something back. Was it simply due to him not being as invested as you believed him to be? Or was it for some other reason? Regardless, you found your hands coming up to cup Nai's face gently as you continued to kiss him, his hands resting firmly on your hips and holding you in place.

You could feel Nai's hands pressing your hips down hard against him, and underneath his robe and through your clothes, you could feel something hard rubbing against your core. A wanton moan escaped you as Nai continued to force you down onto him, getting you to grind on him as his hands guided your hips. You could feel your pussy beginning to soak through your panties, and your whole body shuddered as Nai pulled away from you, a string of spit connecting your lips together.

You watched as Nai's knives suddenly appeared from him, slowly approaching you. Your eyes widened in fear, and you tried to figure out what you'd done wrong, your whole body freezing and your blood turning to ice. However, the blades of the knives didn't touch your skin, instead the tentacles slowly working their way under your clothing, cutting piece by piece loose and letting the scraps of fabric fall from your body. The tentacles of knives glided across your skin almost tenderly, continuing their work diligently until you found yourself completely naked in Nai's bed, your clothing nothing more than strips of fabric now.

"Worry not, pet. You'll get new clothes," Nai spoke quietly, his eyes eagerly taking in your naked form.

Nai could feel himself getting riled up the moment he laid eyes on your bare skin, his cock hardening beneath his robe as he took in every part of you. You were beautiful, he supposed, for a human.

As he gazed at you, Nai couldn't help but wonder what it would feel like for him to finally take you, to stake him claim on you and to feel you around him for the first time. Of course, he'd never let you know that he'd never done any of this before, instead maintaining his façade of cool indifference and superiority, as if he'd done this so many times that it almost bored him.

Reaching out towards you, Nai pulled you back on top of him, his robe dissipating and allowing you to finally see him, his cock rock hard and throbbing, a glob of pre-cum leaking from the tip. You could see that the same plant markings that sprawled across the rest of his body were also on the shaft of his cock, as well as his tip. Just the sight of him, laid out before and below you like this and clearly wanting you, had your pussy dripping wet. You couldn't believe just how badly you wanted him inside you.

"Well? Go on, pet," Nai commanded, watching you carefully, "Please me."

"Yes, Nai."

You couldn't believe this was happening, but you found yourself feeling excited by the fact that you actually got the opportunity to sleep with Nai. As much as you wished that it could've been more than just sex, you were happy to have this, at the very least.

Slowly, you settled yourself in his lap, your hand wrapping gently around his cock and aligning him with your pussy, letting the tip just barely rest against your entrance. You were surprised to hear Nai hiss as soon as you took hold of him, feeling his body tense and feeling something warm and wet dribbling over your fingers.

"A-Are you okay?" You asked softly, looking at Nai with slight concern, hoping you hadn't hurt him or made him uncomfortable.

"Fine," Nai gritted out, "Don't question me. Remember your place, pet."

Then, suddenly, you felt Nai's hands tighten on your hips, grabbing onto you firmly before pushing you down onto his cock hard.

You let out a cry at the sudden stretch, your pussy stinging at the feeling of being split open so deeply for the first time in a long while, trying to adjust to the feeling of Nai inside you. With him sheathed inside you, you could feel just how big he was - even without moving, he was pressing against the most perfect spot inside you, pulling a whine from your lips.

"Quiet, slut," Nai growled, his hold on your hips bruising your skin as his fingers dug into your flesh.

What you didn't know was that Nai was struggling worse than you were at the moment - he'd never felt such warmth and tightness before, especially not around his cock, and he was trying so hard not to cum then and there. He hadn't expected you to feel so good around him, or for his body to be this sensitive.

However, as he held you against him, you let out a soft whine of pleasure and began to roll your hips desperately, pushing him just the slightest bit deeper into you. Nai's grip tightened on you, and he was about to growl out another command when his orgasm suddenly washed over him.

A choked "Fuck!" slipped from his lips as he involuntarily bucked his hips up into you, wanting nothing more than to bury himself into you even more than before as his seed coated your walls, painting them in white and claiming you as his in a way nobody ever really had before. You let out a moan and clutched onto Nai's shoulders as you felt the warmth spreading within your abdomen, and you couldn't help but continue to roll your hips as you chased your own release, wanting to feel more of Nai inside you.

"N-Nai, please," you whined, continuing to thrust your hips against him, "Want more... need more of you... please..."

Hearing you plead for him, for his cock, to give you pleasure made something in Nai snap.

In a flash, you found yourself laying back in the bed with Nai above you, his cock still buried inside you and still hard as ever. However, now, you could see a fire in his eyes as he gazed at you, his hand coming up and squeezing your breast. The mewl that came from you as Nai touched you made him feel more powerful than ever before, his instincts beginning to take over.

Leaning down and pressing his lips against yours hungrily, Nai began to thrust into you with urgency, his thrusts powerful and deep, pulling moan after moan from you as he continued to fuck you into his bed. He couldn't care less that this was his first time - nothing else mattered right now except for cumming inside you over and over again until you knew nothing but his name and that you belonged to him. He allowed his instincts to take over, the instinct to claim, to mate, to breed, to fill you up until it spilled from you endlessly.

"You're mine, slut. You hear me? Mine."

The growl that came from Nai made your whole body shiver, and the way he sunk his teeth into your neck and left a dark bruise to show that fact to the world made you scream out, partly from pain and partly from pleasure. You were his now, and nobody else would ever have you.

"Say it!" Nai commanded, thrusting into you harshly without stopping. "Say-" thrust "you-" thrust "are-" thrust "mine!".

"Y-Yours!" You cried out, feeling your own orgasm wash over you stronger than ever before as Nai continued to fuck you through it, "'M yours, Nai!"

"Mine!"

Nai slammed his cock into you one final time as he came yet again, filling you to the brim with cum once more. As he recovered from his orgasm, Nai continued to leave marks down your neck, your shoulders, your breasts, working his way down until he was ready to go again, wanting nothing more than to continue this until he could no longer stand it.

"Prepare yourself, (Y/N)," Nai growled into your ear, pulling your body against his hard, "You're to stay with me all night. And I'm nowhere near done."

[prismuffin]

Sorry if this is too far into a Crackfic idea!

But What if Reader (He/ Him) gets turned into a Cat because of a spell the Reader was teaching Zanatna, she messed up on.

This is where the ask comes in... How would (Superman) Clark kent, (Batman) Bruce Wayne, Hal Jordan and (Flash) Barry Allen separately interact with/ react to seeing Reader as a Cat? ( Full ass Fur baby, not half n half diet furry (Neko))

P.S I think Hal, and Flash are the type of people that won't pay attention if isn't important. So I feel like they would of just tuned back in once seeing the cat, and not know it's Reader.

Also, I think it's so cute at the idea of Reader having enough of people handling and grabbing him. While, knowing that no one's going to mess with Batman, Cat!Reader hides in Batman's cape, while he's sitting.

LMFAO nah this isn’t too crackfic to me I actually find it quite funny- but anyways I think-

After being turned into a cat by Zatanna you probably ran away from her in shock and/or fear.

Superman would be so confused seeing a random cat running through the halls. He'd be even more confused when you pounce into his arms. You seemed shaken up so he held onto you immediately. He doesn't know how a cat got in here but you seem scared so he'll go to the kitchen to get you something to drink or eat. He finds a can of tuna in the back and lets you eat as much out of it as you'd like. He pets you while you're eating then gets you some water. Finds the purring sound interesting so he keeps petting you and eventually, because you're a cat, you dig your claws into his skin and he reels back in confusion and betrayal as he watches you run out of the kitchen.

Afterwards you run into Hal walking through the halls. You'd meow at him and walk between his legs. He'd shoo you away from him, mostly annoyed about the cat hair that you're spreading everywhere. When you don't leave him alone he sighs and allows you to walk beside him but when he reaches his room/office he's not letting you inside at all. He'll give you a few pets before he closes the door on you though.

Continuing you journey you're met with Barry in the common room who's looking at the results of some tests from work. When you hop up next to him on the couch he just stares in disbelief for a couple of seconds before wondering out loud who brought their cat. He'd let you stay with him like Hal did as long as you're not disruptive and eventually one hand would find its way behind you ears, giving you a couple of scratches. He'd probably give you some dumb temporary name since you don't have a collar on or anything. You, once again get annoyed of them after a while and move away from him.

After a long, tired day of absolutely nothing you searched tirelessly for a place to nap. Finding a way into Bruce's Batcave you skillfully maneuvered your way through the cave until you found Bruce at his desk. You meowed and he turned but found nothing until he turned back around to see you on his console. You jumped into his lap before he could react and just laid there. When he tried to pet you, you pawed his hand away so he just let you rest there until he finished up work. If you wanna hide in his cape when he's done and wandering the halls he doesn't mind.

———

Directory

[olderthannetfic]

Can I get encouragement ? reality check? advice? from older authors?

I've been learning how to write better and my fics have been getting better, in my opinion, and also a little more popular. But then I wrote this one fic that really blew up, literally several times more kudos than my second most popular. And I’m proud of it! I worked hard and applied all the writing advice and popular tropes and all. I can see for myself why it works and the comments confirm it.

But now I can’t write anything. I feel as if I’m not allowed to write anymore my trashy 1k tertiary character POVs and crackfic and gen poems that get 10 hits. Like I should only post fics I've worked equally hard on, like I’m somehow obligated to maintain the same level of that one fic even though I logically know that its popularity was a fluke and not something I can do again even if I decided to. But I still can’t write my trash.

I just… want to sit and wordvomit some random idea I had and then post it not because it’s good but because it exists. And I can’t. I may be starting to regret that I ever tried to learn to write good.

--

Ah, the second album curse!

Yeah, this hits everyone. It usually only gets better if you've produced a lot of work to the point that it's not just one single hit you're trying to live up to and one upward trajectory with one peak.

[morelikeravenbore]

Pandora's Book, part one

🔞 Sebastian Sallow x Book | PART ONE

Unhinged!Sebastian, objectophilia, sexual acts with a (sort of) inanimate object, an exploration of grief and acute loneliness. Seventh year, minor changes to canon.

Warning: explicit content. All characters 18+. Minors do not interact. Reader discretion is advised.

Seeking distraction from his interminable apathy, or a temporary relief from his guilt that didn't resort to obliterating his own memory, the girls he took made him feel good, said pretty things that made him believe, for a while, that he wasn't broken and irredeemable. But then, issues of that nature were likely a job for St Mungos rather than some girl's mouth in the back of a disused classroom, and over time, the thrill of mindlessly fucking his pain away began to dull, and he recoiled from their sweet nothings and gentle affections; like everything else in Sebastian's life, even the flames of desire eventually turned cold, and his escapades became less about feeling better and more about feeling anything.

Still, he couldn't say with any measure of truth that he'd felt anything like this from a book before.

A/N: Erm. I'm not even sure how to introduce this one, but I've had this idea in my head for months now and — well, brain rot. I KNOW it sounds like a crackfic — and it kind of is — but it's also an (unhinged and smutty) exploration of grief. This'll be a multipart story, probably three parts. I'll update as quickly as I can but I'm a turtle writer so please be patient with me. Thanks for reading, fellow unhinged bebes, I luv u.

Word count: 3k

[ao3 | wattpad] ✨ [HL fic masterlist]

The gate is opened, and the night

Rushes across the sky with a shout.

The gate is opened, and the evil

Comes pouring out.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ ⁺ . ⁺ ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

'Oh, shut up, would you?' Sebastian muttered as a particularly vocal book wailed directly in his ear.

Darkness surrounds you... your soul is lost, torn between light and dark, ripped to shreds by your own hand... darkness creeps, ever closer... ever closer...

'Yeah, yeah,' he muttered, pausing just long enough to cast a cursory glance at whichever accursed book was taunting him aloud this time. Ah, of course: Secrets of the Darkest Arts. That one had always been especially antagonistic toward him — even before he'd murdered his uncle. 

Rolling his eyes, he gave the offending book a swift two-fingered prod, sliding it deeper into the dark recesses of the shelf it was chained to. It shuddered with indignation — if a book was capable of such a thing — and cursed him so vehemently in Latin he would've been impressed had it not been calling his dead mother a swine.

Unphased, Sebastian scoffed and kept walking, the sound of his footsteps dampened between towering bookshelves as he made his way deeper into the deathly stillness of the library.

To another, perhaps less traumatised sort of person, the idea of inanimate objects giving voice might've been a bit unsettling, but Sebastian was quite used to books shouting at him by now; having spent more time in the Restricted Section than he suspected even the librarian had, their disembodied voices were sometimes the only interaction he got outside of his N.E.W.T classes — that is, if he didn't count Ominis Gaunt, whose insults were often far worse than anything a Dark Arts book could conjure, and who generally addressed him with an equal amount of spite and derision. In fact, Ominis was partly the reason why Sebastian spent so much time alone with a bunch of talking books to begin with: it was one thing for a book to berate you for all your past mistakes, but quite another when it came from your best friend. 

No, when it came to facing resentment, Sebastian would sooner bear the brunt of it from some gruesome edition of Magick Moste Evile than see it written clearly across another's face. In fact, there'd been a time when the incorporeal voices of those awful books had enticed him, called out to him like a siren song, drawn him in with promises of power and glory the likes of which he'd never dreamed of. And he, driven by his desperation to free his twin sister from the grips of a dark curse, had immersed himself in their age-browned pages so thoroughly he'd begun to hear their voices in his dreams.

But that was then. 

Now, those ghostly whispers, once a comfort to a boy who'd had very little of it in his life, were more like the incessant buzzing of insects, harsh and irritating. He was no longer interested in what secrets they had to offer him: Anne was dead, and nothing in any book would ever bring her back — of that, he was certain.

Stretching up to reach a high shelf, Sebastian slid another misplaced book into its correct place, feeling a sense of pride he seldom felt any more. Being voiceless, this particular book couldn't thank him for his tireless commitment to reorganising the forbidden library, but at least it couldn't offend him, either.

Having nowhere else to go after his classes and homework were done, he'd come to frequent this part of the castle so often that he'd appointed himself as an unofficial librarian of sorts. Judging by the general air of neglect about the place, old Scribner never bothered venturing this deep into the forbidden recesses of the library, so rather than tossing and turning in his bed, Sebastian spent his restless nights bringing some semblance of order to the forsaken space, dusting shelves, repairing book spines, and clearing out the infestations of spiders that'd taken up residence in the darkest corners. It didn't matter if every so often some ancient tome insulted his dead parents or taunted him for his lack of an intact soul, if it was incorrectly catalogued, missing a cover, or simply in need of a good clean, he would diligently set it right again and move on. It was a library, after all, albeit a nefarious one, and it deserved respect.

He was just turning a darkened corner, muttering about the lack of proper organisation and general disregard for the correct cataloguing procedures when something — no, someone — distinctly moaned his name.

Well, that was new.

Sebastian stopped dead in his tracks. In all the time he'd haunted these aisles, he'd never once come across another living soul — at least, none who wasn't made of paper and evil.

Calmly depositing his armful of books onto a nearby desk, he withdrew his wand from his pocket. Not much scared him any more — committing murder and raising the dead made one rather fearless in the face of anything less — but it was apprehension, not fear, that had him casting Homenum Revelio under his breath. This was his peaceful hideaway; he neither wanted to share it nor have it taken away by some meddlesome idiot.

But the spell resounded through the empty library, detecting no living presence besides his own. 

He was alone. 

Strange. Either Sebastian was officially going mad, or the books were becoming more sentient — for all their moaning, whining and idle threats of bodily harm, none had ever addressed him by name before.

He paused, held his breath, strained his ears.

There! — There it was again, a distinctly feminine voice calling out for him. 

s e b a s t i a n... i n e e d y o u...

Swearing under his breath, he followed the spectral call as best he could, his fingers trailing over the dusty shelves as he hurried down the aisle, leaving streaks through the grime that might lead him back should be lose his way.

As desensitised as he was to all thinges evile, some distant part of him wondered whether he might be better off ignoring the call of this one — he was surrounded by evil books, after all, and Sebastian wasn't stupid enough to forget that anything gained from cursed pages demanded something of the reader in return: a sacrifice, some sanity, a little piece of the soul. But the desperation in that voice, the pain — the longing...

'Say it again!'

Whimpering moans, a body squirming beneath his; the cute Ravenclaw had been giving him the eyes for weeks before he'd finally gotten her alone. 

'Say it again, or I won't give you what you want.'

Lustful eyes met his — pretty, but he couldn't recall their colour now; they all looked the same after a while. 

'I need you,' she whined, grinding her hips against his. 'Sebastian, I need you.'

He was sweating by the time he found it; tucked away in a small side chamber he hadn't gotten around to cleaning yet, and half-hidden behind piles of long-forgotten junk, the voice called to him from an innocuous-looking cabinet in the corner. Its glass panels were thick with dust, but the door opened easily, unobstructed by lock or magic.

Inside, the books weren't chained to their shelves or bound shut with leather straps, nor made of flesh or covered in suspicious-looking stains. They were just — books; plain old inanimate books.

All but one.

He wasn't exactly sure what first drew him to it. Instinct, he supposed, for it bore no title to pique his interest, and the cover was dull and plain, free of any macabre embellishments that usually made restricted books so alluring. But when his gaze settled upon it, the sudden, terrible ache at his separation made him sure this was the one.

Mine.

He snatched it up, clutched it to his chest — laboured breaths mingled with his; the book was panting as hard as he was, sweet, breathy whimpers against his chest — and when he felt a second heartbeat thumping against his own, knew he'd sooner die than ever let it go again.

s e b a s t i a n...

'Yes,' he growled, squeezing it tighter, his grip possessive.

i n e e d y o u...

'I know.'

w a i t e d s o l o n g...

Striding over to a small table against the far wall, he cleared a space amongst the ancient clutter and gently laid the precious tome atop it, stroking the cover with the adoring touch of a lover, tender and gentle. How supple it felt beneath his calloused palms, and strangely warm.

'I've got you,' he breathed, reverently tracing the hardcover edges with his thumbs, his eyes glazed and heavy.

p l e a s e, s e b a s t i a n...

'Please what?' He leaned down as if to whisper in an ear that wasn't there, his breath ghosting the surprisingly pristine pages.

t o u c h m e...

Loneliness had a way of changing people; extroverts became withdrawn, optimists turned cynical. But when that loneliness was the direct result of one's own failings, it withered anything pure that had ever bloomed in a person's psyche, leaving only a wasted garden in its place, a bed of rotting roots.

Once a boy of friendly disposition and bright curiosity, Sebastian's innate optimism had slowly eroded away after every loss that'd darkened his life: his parents, his sister, his uncle, each death a blow to his happiness from which he never recovered, rendering him withdrawn and bitter, a tree lopped well before its time. — But though he might’ve been emotionally damaged beyond repair, but there was certainly nothing wrong with his body.

Sebastian was tall for his age, handsome and broad-shouldered as his father had been, his muscular physique and toned forearms the result of several years playing as the Slytherin Beater. He wasn't ignorant to the way girls looked at him, nor oblivious to the effect he had on them when he flexed his arms or ruffled his hair. And despite his melancholy (or perhaps because of it, as one Slytherin girl had told him), he attracted intimate partners with surprising ease.

When he'd lost all sense of himself under the crushing weight of grief, it was sex that made him feel alive again.

Ever the resourceful Slytherin, he used this inherent charm to his full advantage, setting his sights on only the prettiest girls in his year level, the most unavailable, or the ones too shy to meet his gaze. He revelled in their blushes and giggles when he brushed his hand against theirs, their darkened pupils and parted lips when he finally had them pushed up against a wall or straddling his lap, and soon, Sebastian found himself addicted to the taste of soft lips against his hungry mouth, the flush of goosebumps beneath his demanding touch, slick thighs and flushed skin.

Seeking distraction from his interminable apathy, or a temporary relief from his guilt that didn't resort to obliterating his own memory, the girls he took made him feel good, said pretty things that made him believe, for a while, that he wasn't broken and irredeemable. But then, issues of that nature were likely a job for St Mungos rather than some girl's mouth in the back of a disused classroom, and over time, the thrill of mindlessly fucking his pain away began to dull, and he recoiled from their sweet nothings and gentle affections; like everything else in Sebastian's life, even the flames of desire eventually turned cold, and his escapades became less about feeling better and more about feeling anything.

Still, he couldn't say with any measure of truth that he'd felt anything like this from a book before.

Maybe he really had lost his mind.

'Touch you?' He swallowed roughly, fingering the notches of the spine. 'Where?'

s p r e a d m e... t o u c h m e...

With his entire body throbbing with need, Sebastian spread the book open to the middle pages. He ran a slow, measured finger down the length of the inner crease, imagining the soft hollow of a collarbone, the sensitive dip of an inner thigh. But to his immense surprise, his finger did not glide over the smooth paper as he was expecting, but sank in, disappearing into the spine as if he'd breached some concealed opening. Instead of meeting a paper barrier, or even the polished wooden table beneath it, he delved into a strangely wet, yet pleasantly warm depth.

He added another. Sebastian's fingers were thick, but the pages yielded easily to accommodate them, stretching and pulsing around him.

Something inside him roared to life.

'Is this what you want?'

Mingled breath, pretty skin. Snow was falling outside but her body burned against his.

'Yes! Yes, Sebastian, please!'

The resulting moan that fell from the book's lips — pages? — ignited a primal, aching need inside him. Musical and clear, and so deliciously lustful it made his knees tremble, it was the single most beautiful sound Sebastian had ever heard in his life: ethereal and otherworldly, pretty and bright — and yet, somehow, achingly familiar. He slid his fingers deeper, the slip of the unmarred pages like silken bliss against his skin, and when the voice whimpered in approval, he thought of the last girl he'd fucked under the Quidditch stands who'd made very similar noises with his fingers inside her. Sebastian smiled, remembering the way he'd had to hold her up when she came all over his hand, her knees buckling and her mouth agape in a silent scream of bliss.

'Oh, so this what you need, is it?'

Sebastian was grunting now, his breath coming in short, ragged bursts as he curled his fingers deeper into the pages' soft, wet void.

The empyreal voice only cried out in reply, but the tight, hot opening fluttered around his fingers in that additive way he knew proceeded a mind-shattering orgasm. He smiled again, half-feral with lust as he pawed at his own crotch, roughly stroking the evidence of his depravity that was straining against his breeches.

'I'm going to finger fuck you until you fall to pieces.' He picked up his pace, the veins in his forearm bulging with the exertion of the efforts, his hair falling over his eyes. 'Is that what you want? To be ruined?'

'Sebastian! Sebas— fuck!'

Frantically rocking hips, fingers slippery with desire.

'Do I make you feel good? Do I? — No, look at me when you come!'

Well past the point of no return, Sebastian watched the rhythmic pumping of this fingers with a singular intensity, marveling at the way they slid so easily into the mysterious depths of the book only to come out coated in slick. This was better than any real girl he'd even been with; this was all-encompassing, mind-numbing bliss, each glistening stroke soothing his burdened mind, mending the roots in his ruined garden.

This was magical.

It was some time before a cramp in his hand had Sebastian reluctantly peeling away from the books' lush center— but the pain of their separation was immediate and unbearable. Whimpering, he went immediately for his breeches, his stiff, slippery fingers struggling with his belt and fastenings until, finally, in a half-blind sort of daze, hot and throbbing, he stroked himself with a raw, gutteral cry. The table groaned under his weight as he leaned over it, mimicking the sounds that fell from his ruined throat.

i n e e d y o u...

His hips bucked.

With one knee propped on the table and a pant leg still tangled around one leg, the angle was awkward, uncomfortable, and if he weren't so utterly fucked out of his mind, he might’ve stopped to reconsider, well... everything.

But he couldn't stop. Now now.

Instead, mumbling stupid, unintelligible praises, he managed to angle himself in just the right way to swipe his weeping tip through the deliciously slick cease.

His mind went blank.

There was no warm body to hold onto, no hips to bruise nor neck to sink his teeth into, just an old splintery tabletop and smooth pages — and yet, if he closed his eyes, he could almost envision a trembling, sweat-slicked body beneath him, as warm and needy as any he'd had before.

If somebody were to walk in on him now, hovering half-naked over a book, painfully hard and inarticulate with lust, they'd be hard pressed to make him stop.

At this point, not even a team of Auror's could pry Sebastian cock away from these pages.

They'd have to crucio him to make him stop.

And even then...

Trembling with the effort of holding himself steady, he gingerly probed the spot his fingers had just been enjoying.

He slid in an inch. Then another.

The book shuddered.

His vision blurred.

i n e e d y o u...

'Sebastian, I need you!'

He fell forward, knees buckling, pleading, whimpering — then a voice, maybe his own, maybe the books', let out a garbled, broken cry as he sank into the sweet, tight abyss.

The world narrowed to the euphoric point of connection, and nothing else.

Pleasure, exquisite.

And nothing else.

And nothing else.

[part two coming soon]

[v0xtvdemon]

Crackfic but I haven't written in a bit

Well, here we go. I made this one short because my head's a bit empty right now but I must write-

Type: Crackfic (Written somewhat seriously)

Vox x Alastor (One-Sided)

Words: 478

Vox sat at his computer screens, all had lost signal from him going a bit overboard because of Alastor, his rival that he hated very much and did not have a crush on at all. That damn radio demon had managed to take over Vox’s thoughts again.

“Fuck fuck fuck fuck FUCK!” Vox yelled, putting clawed hands over his own face in embarrassment. “What the FUCK am I supposed to do now…:

Ah, right… pretend Alastor treated him seriously…for the 5th time in 3 days.

Vox silently moved to ‘VoxDocs’, another thing he created that also had his name in it, upon entering the application he was reminded of the many documents he had created about him and Alastor. They ranged from ways to confess to full on fanfiction created of the two. Neither Valentino nor Velvette knew about these secret documents. They would’ve questioned him way too much about it at best.

Checking back to see if anyone entered without him noticing, a new document was opened and immediately titled ‘Alastor gives me attention’. It was all he wanted at the moment. Attention from his…rival.

“I swear if someone walks in I’m going to destroy them.” Vox muttered, focusing on the fanfiction he was writing.

‘I look up to the screens in front of me, grinning as Alastor begins to mock me with his pathetic voice and choice of words. His attempted insults mean nothing to me but it’s amusing to watch him try, after all it showed who was the more powerful.

Anything he said about me, hell even insults about me being weaker than both Valentino and Velvette, were useless and it was obviously getting to him by now. Or it should’ve.

Alastor was stupid enough to ignore the lack of effect his words had on me, he was completely unaware I was gaining more power from his attention!’

Perfect, absolutely perfect. Vox loved the idea of Alastor’s attention even if it was purely insults. After all they were rivals, it was perfectly normal for one to want the other’s attention, ignoring the fact Alastor only saw him as a joke and nowhere near a rival.

“Ah Alastor..your attention is what I crave..besides Valentino not losing his shit for one day.”

“What-” A voice somewhere behind Vox said, causing him to turn around roughly 188 degrees given the fact he was leaning slightly and wasn’t turning straight around because of that.

“VALENTINO FUCK OFF” Vox yelled, covering the screen as best as he could while the moth had the blankest stare known to demons ever. “Did you stare at a light for 4 hours again?!”

“Light”

“Fucking dammit” Vox growled, grabbing the other’s arm to go drag him away from the tv screens projecting way too much light for Val’s brain to handle.

Of course, distracted from making his amazing fanfiction once again.

[thefourthwifeoftengenuzui]

May I please ask for headcanons Aoba Johsai with a manager whose skilled with archery and sharpshooting please

Yes of course! Sorry for the wait I was working on a Rindou piece and my physics exam. It’s like 3Am right now, but I still want to finish this for you boo. Thanks again For requesting Anon, if you like this, don’t forget to like and ask if you have any other ideas. Also, you didn’t specify which you wanted, so this can be interpreted as romantic or platonic. Status: unedited

warnings: crackfic, bad grammar, cursing, violence, oikawa exists, oikawa slander, color coded characters, reader is a whole ass menace, mentions of vaping

🩵🤍Aoba Josai With a Sharpshooter/ Archer Manager🤍🩵

As a Team (platonic)

Oikawa, Iwazumi, Kunimi, Kiyotani, Kindaichi, Matsukawa, you

My first thought when I looked at this post was simple. How many times and we hit oikawa in the head. Everything else kinda spiraled from there. Just imagine being able to do that shit with pinpoint accuracy, and when he turns around to see who did it, be like the gremlin chick from hotel transilivania and be like ,” I didn’t do that”. And then he proceeds to blame Iwa, and pure unrefined chaos erupts from there. *clears throat and sips matcha* good shit

But on a more serious note, these boys are completely ready to take full advantage of your skills. Remember when oikawa sprained his ankle? Guess who had to replicate his serves instead so they could practice receives. That’s right, you. And your aim is a little too good sometimes (Kindiachi has been hit in the face) but they honestly don’t care, they just looking to get practice in, and maybe a few tips here and there for aiming.

But that’s just during their practice. During your archery or other practice. Oh my god. Imagine having like 12 annoying older brothers. Like both Archery and Sharpshooting are pretty quiet sports. But with these mfs at your practice? Oh dear lord. These gon be the most obnoxiously loud humans to walk the planet (3rd only to Fukurodani and Kurasuno). Imagine with me. It’s so silent you can hear a pin drop. You’re trying to concentrate before you’re pulling back your string. You take a deep breath and just as you’re about to let go- “WOOOOOOOO THATS MY LIL SISSSSSS/BROOOO!!!” “SHUT UP SHITTY KAWA!THEY NEED TO FOCAS!” “HOW WAS I SUPPOSED TO KNOW IWA!?” “YOU WOULD KNOW IF YOU WEREN'T SUCH AN DUMBASS!” “IF YALL DONT SHUT THE FUCK UP ILL SHUT YOU UP MYSELF” yeah they’re THAT kind of sports parents. They got kicked out last time :)

I just know yall have made oikawa put an apple on his head and see if you can hit his head. Ofc you can, but it’s funnier hitting him with the Velcro arrows and watching him rip his hair out, and ruining it for the day (his fangirls hated you for that lol.)

I just KNOW that the other teams got some crazy ass conspiracies about you. They call you the Seijo Assassin, and that you kill the best players of the opposing team, and they never find the bodies. And tbh it was probably oikawa who started it, to get back at you for getting Velcro stuck in his hair. So while you’re just as hot as kiyoko, everyone is terrified of you, and are only referring to you as L/n-sama (even though you’re only a second year.). I swear to fuck hinata pissed himself when tsukki told the team about you.

also yall know the sharpshooter shaving cream balloon prank thingy? I know damn well the whole team is having a competition for who can do it best. Like it’s literally so funny, especially when someone not on the team gets hit. Like I know oikawa has accidentally hit the coach with one of those. Do with this information what you will.

Individuals: Could be romantic or platonic, either way fits (though both are seriously on crack.)

Somehow or someway, Oikawa will convince you to be his bodyguard. And not even like paying you money. Just like a, “ YoU wOnT wALk yOuR pOor dEfEnSLeSS FRiEnD tO cLAss? WhAt iF my FAnGirlS Kidnap MeEEEEE?!” “yep.” “Do you even Love Meeeeeee!?” “Nope.” “…I’ll pay you~” “pay me what?” “Food~” “DONE!” *throws chair out window* yeah y’all’s relationship is pretty much just blitz and stolas in the loo loo land episode. Like when Stolas was just walking while Blitz is pretending to be Batman, lurking in the shadows and pointing a gun at anything with a pulse? Yeah that’s you two walking around the school, except with a nerf gun instead.

oh and you know the team jackets? He bought you yours. But not just any jacket oh no. Yours is special. He payed extra to have it say, “The Seijo Assasin; Oikawa’s bobyguard.” He also might have gotten it in 4xl because he doesn’t know your size, but still wants it to be way to big on you so he can make fun of you. He’s an ass.

Iwazumi is much nicer on the other hand. He (regardless of if it’s platonic or romantic,) is all about helping you carry your stuff. He doesn’t even ask either, he just kinda picks it up and does it. He says it isn’t a big deal, and that you’re carrying enough with your archery equipment anyway, and that he needs the weight training anyway. Def the kinda guy to use your backpack as a dumbbell and use it to lift while y’all in the hall.

I know y'all have a running competition on who can hit oikawa in the head the most. Body shots are one point, head shots are worth 2, and the groin is worth 3, especially if he’s being creepy to someone. The score is currently 34-31, slightly in your favor. Whoever hits him the least by the end of the month has to buy the winner ramen. Oikawa doesn’t approve of this game, and ends up attempting to bump everything back your way. But on the bright side, it’s a good way to scare off his fangirls :).

Kunimi just kinda vibes with you. Like he doesn’t really acknowledge much of what you do, just kinda goes like, “ oh so that’s why you were so good at that. I just thought you hated oikawa. Anyway can I have your Chez-its?” Yeah my boy don’t care enough, but he cute so yeah.

also I just know this mf, plays Fortnite and vapes blue raspberry burst. Do with that what you will. ( to be clear, I wouldn’t ever vape, i just know he does, and honestly had to look up what flavors there are.

The honesty biggest thing you do that impresses him is the whole good aim card slicey thingy. Idk man, he just seems like he would be good at that, and would try to fight you on it.

Despite everything, Kyotani is actually relatively nice to you? Or at least as nice as he can be. His version of nice is avoiding you like the plague, cause he’s scared you’ll be scared of him. He actually really likes you and wants an excuse to talk to you. So what does he do? Asks you to help him aim while spiking, so that he can use his strength more efficiently. He actually is pretty patient with your teaching, and genuinely respects you enough to take your advice. ( tell him to shower pls, I can smell him through the screen, luv him though)

He also uses a whole bottle of axe body spray every time he walks out of the house . Be careful not to get too close to him. Please find someone strong, or stupid enough to bully him out of it, for the sake of the teams lungs🙏

Kindaichi is probably the only person on the team who still calls you Y/n- senpai. He’s way too precious. That being said, he still did give you a twenty if you hit kageyama with a vollyball during warmups. He may be nice, but he mad petty. And $20 is $20 man

Matsukawa is definitely a COD type of guy. He knows a lot about guns. Bond over that (then give me his number pls)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thanks for reading, sorry the last part was rushed, I am just not feeling it rn. If y’all liked this make sure to follow, Like, and request something of your own. I literally have nothing else to do. Love y’all sm, peace

-joden

[biggest-geo-oogami-enjoyer]

idk if this counts as request but i imagined a secret (true/j) ending where crowe and sol fought for the mc (like, hit eachother and stuff or just discussed), and as a last choice went to ask the mc who did they like more JUST TO FIND THE MC KISSING GEO 😭 Idk what i was thinking when i got that idea but i wanted to share it to the geo appreciation cult 🗣️‼️‼️‼️

(sorry for any mispelling, english is not my first language + im eepy ☹️)

Dern Moira (Geo x MC/Reader)

I cackled when I read this, probably will be part of the crackfic Imma eventually write (if you're on the Discord server, you'll know what I'm referring to). ;]

MENTIONS OF CROWE AND SOL.

Enjoy anonnie, have an awesome day/night! <33 Thanks for letting me write this for you, and I'm sorry for the lateness of this.

Anyway, I had fun with this one. The ending is also a pisstake, so don't take it too seriously.

- Signed by biggest-geo-oogami-enjoyer

Dern: hidden, secret.

Moira: translates to "destiny," "share," or "fate". 

---------------------------------------------------------------------

Sol and Crowe were livid with each other.

They'd had enough, if tearing each others' hair out, punching the shit out of each other and almost killing each other wasn't enough to come to a decision; they decided to go to their mutual last resort: you.

They marched together, side-eyeing and glaring at each other, walking to your locker when they both halted, astounded.

You, the love of their lives, were kissing Geo(de)-fucking-Oogami.

The stoic ice king.

The most nonchalant and secretive person they knew.

And he pulled you.

As he should look at him he's majestic.

His hands were firmly cupping your face, your ones around his slutty waist (his hair's too precious guys I'm sorry).

They were shooketh.

They were mortified.

Distressed, even.

They had not expected this at all.

Especially when Geo pulled away and gave them the most bombastic side-eye ever fucking seen.

Crowe was honestly shocked that Geo was even there in the first place, Sol was just angry.

They both are kindly told to fuck off (Crowe's just told to leave because Geode's a nice person) and, knowing Geo will throw hands, Sol asks Crowe to forge an alliance to get you and Geo apart. Crowe denies, because he's a respectable person.

It also fails because Geo's superiority and overall amazingness surpasses it all, and you love him.

Plus Geo is the one who has dirt on Sol, so he'll tell you that Sol's in your house each night (will be too disgusted to mention the jerking-off part), so you agree that you'll shoot him and Geo'll hide the body. <3

Crowe eventually gets over it, and moves on, seeing how happy you and Geo were.

[scekrex]

Dunno how I'm supposed to start, but I have a little idea

So. Reader wanted to use a corset and asked Adam to tie it for him, but Adam, being the asshole he is, he made it too tight.

But when Reader wants to take it off inside their bathroom, he doesn't ask Adam for help, because he messed up once, so Reader doesn't want to take the risk again.

From the inside, grunts and stuff could be heard, the normal shit, but from outside, it could be interpreted as something else (ykyk).

(You can make it a crackfic or smut, dunno. Also sorry if it doesn'tmake any sense. I LOVE YOUR WORK 😭)

So this is a SFW version - if ya want a smutty sequel feel free to request :3

You're always so lovely

pairing: Adam x male!reader

warnings: language, sexual tension & homophobic language

note: beta read by @drxgonspine

You inhaled sharply as Adam tightened the corset even more. It was too tight to stand in comfortably, forcing you to arch your back and it was way too hard to breathe. “Are you trying to kill me?” you hissed at the first man who simply patted your shoulder and responded with a lazy,

“You look really fucking sexy, babes.” Well, really it was your fault for asking Adam for help with a corset in the first place, you should've known that the brunette would find a way to mess with you. “Loose it up a little, for Christ’s sake I can’t even breathe properly,” you tried to get him to do it right, but it was Adam.

Instead of listening to you, he took your complaint as a joke, not realizing that it was actually hard for you to breathe in it, so he leaned down, placed a kiss on your cheek and mumbled, “Nah, I like it when ya look like a disney prince.” And to be completely honest? That was something you had not expected to ever be said - not by Adam. Adam, the man who loved rock ‘n’ roll more than his own life, Mr. ‘I fucking rock’ himself just said that he liked to see his boyfriend all dolled up, all pretty yet handsome at the same time.

For fucks sake, Adam knew disney - why the fuck did he know what disney was? The only logical answer to that was Lute, Adam knew a ton of things simply because Lute had told him about it.

With those words however, the first man left the room. “Get the fuck back here you cunt,” you shouted from the top of your lungs, earning you a pissed of, “Shut the fuck up fag!” from your next door neighbor who seemed to be not quite the fan of you. And Adam.

Grumbling you headed towards the bathroom, it was once again your job to fix Adam’s mistake, well this time it was kind of urgent - it not only involved you, but it also caused your body to hurt like hell. Mentally you made a note to never let the taller male help you with clothes of any kind - not when it could end like this at least.

You kicked the bathroom door shut loudly, making sure the first man heard that you had entered it and locked the room from the inside before you stood in front of the mirror and breathed in as much air as possible - for the record, it wasn’t as much air as you would have liked it to be. The corset was not only tight in all the wrong places, it was also made out of some really uncomfortable material. But as you looked yourself over in the mirror, you had to give Adam one thing and one thing only: you did look like a disney prince - a pretty handsome one as well.

But looks made not up for the air your body desperately craved and therefore the corset had to leave. As soon as possible and definitely without Adam’s help. Knowing the brunette, he would tighten the thing even more before eventually putting you out of your misery - that might only be the outcome if you were to promise him something in return, which you didn’t like because he had been the person to even cause this situation and therefore your need of help. So you were determined to do this on your own, how hard could it be to take a corset off after all?

Turns out: it was harder to take that thing off than you had expected. Thirty minutes had passed and you had achieved nothing. To be completely fair you had no idea how Adam had closed it in the first place and it was kinda hard to see your back, even with that huge mirror that was hanging on the bathroom wall. So it was only normal that it took you so long - right?

Who were you even trying to fool, it was not normal, if anything it was concerning.

You were frustrated, groans, hisses of pain and grunts fell from your lips more often than you found yourself able to stay quiet. It had been a mistake to try this thing on without having Lute around - the exorcist surely would have been more gentle. And she would have helped you out of the uncomfortable thing in no time too. But Lute was not here and Adam was the only person you wanted to stay as far away from the corset as possible.

A knock on the locked bathroom door caused you to flinch, you had been quite focused on the task of getting out of that corset. “Listen bitch, if you’re inside there jerking yourself off, you better unlock the fucking door,” Adam’s voice was muffled by the wood between you and him, yet his words made it quite clear what he thought was going on inside the locked room. “I promise ya, my mouth’s way fucking better than your hand,” the first man continued without even waiting for an answer. He seemed convinced that you had been inside the bathroom for over thirty fucking mintues to jerk yourself off instead of asking him for a little help.

“Adam,” you groaned as you accidentally tightened the corset even more - you wanted to hiss at him, make it obvious that you were not trying to orgasm without him, yet that groan of his name seemed to only fuel Adam’s suspicion more. That was honestly nothing you could blame the brunette for. If the roles were reversed, you surely would have the same thoughts.

“I know babes, just fucking open the door,” the words sounded surprisingly desperate, as if he was touching himself - and maybe he was. Yet your main problem remained to be the tight corset hugging your entire upper body. “I’m not fucking jerki- oh fuck,” once again your body’s reaction to things was not helpful at all.

Your finger had gotten stuck somewhere and when you had tried to pull your hand away, you had caused skin to break and blood to leak from your finger. “Y/N, for fucks sake if you don’t open-” that was all the first man was able to say before he heart a small clicking noise and the bathroom door swung open.

“I’m not jerking myself off, you horny fuckhead,” you growled at the taller man, who seemed genuinely surprised that you had been speaking the truth - he must have been quite convinced that you had tried to orgasm without him noticing.

“You’re not. But what the fuck were you doing then?” The brunette seemed honestly confused about the situation, he visibly had trouble wrapping his mind around what was happening.

“I was trying to get out of this bullshit,” you hissed and pointed at the corset that was still tightly wrapped around your upper body - in fact it was now even tighter than it had been before you had locked yourself inside the bathroom. The first man sighted as he wordlessly grabbed you by the shoulders and spun you around so that your back was facing him. Skillful fingers were quick to unhook the corset and free your body from its tight grip on you. The thing dropped to the floor as Adam undid the last hook and you inhaled deeply, sucking in as much air as your lungs were able to hold. Oh the feeling of freedom.

“Thank you,” you mumbled as your hand came up to press against your chest. Your body was still in pain - at least a little - but you knew that would fade.

“How about you thank me by sucking my dick?” Adam grinned as he pressed his body against yours from behind, his erection meeting your asscheeks. You were not able to hold back from rolling your eyes at that, yet you moved your ass against his hips, giving him your non-verbal consent.

[blarefordaglare]

Legend (unintentionally) eats the triforce of wisdom.

(originally this was something I submitted to my friend in a tumblr ask)

I HAVE NO IDEA HOW THIS IDEA POPPED UP IN MY HEAD LAST NIGHT BUT YEAH.

CRACK TIMEMEMEMMENENE

Also writing description is such a pain for crackfics so… I kinda quit on it. 

Also I learned Hyrule keeps the triforce with him everywhere sooOoO yah. 

… 

“Wild.” Time’s voice boomed through the camp, “What did you put in the veterans soup?” 

“I have no idea what you are talking about.” Lol, of course he did. That’s what he gets for not letting him near his fire rod. I mean, it’s just a golden triangle, best it could do is choke him.

He looked over at Hyrule, only to notice him frantically searching his pouch. One other golden triangle lay right next to him I’ll use that next time.

“Dude you had to have done something. Pinky boy has turned to a prophet.” 

Legend’s eyes darted to the champion.

“Why is it Legend of Zelda when we are the ones saving the world?”

Gasps filled the forest.

“Warriors, you don’t exist. You’re not canon.” Legend’s tone was blunter than the knife Hyrule would use for cooking. The knife that stabbed the captain right in the heart. How did they know?

“We shouldn’t even be talking. We should all be going “hya” except for Hyrule who should be going “well excuse me princess.”” The words were becoming ever more confusing to the chain as Hyrule looked sheepishly away, muttering “it was only one hundred times” under his breath. 

“And lastly…” Legend’s eyes looked down, showcasing a mix of sadness and mischief, “We are all just puppets in this story. According to the author I’m supposed to sound like a wise guy, but she’s failing. She is also forcing me to say this in dialouge too because her notes app has been looking empty lately.” 

…

Maybe Wild could hold off on committing arson for one day.

[mangoshorthand]

Five Hargreeves oneshot masterlist

Fic requests are closed When requests are open, I would love to hear your Five requests via the 'ask me anything' button on my blog. Still working out my boundaries and trends in what does and doesn't appeal to me. See end of post for these.

Not Smut (G-M rated)

Tickle War | Five Hargreeves / GN Reader (Fluff)- Words: 1.5k

Dickhead Sugar Daddy | Five Hargreeves / GN Reader (Angst/Fluff)- Words 2.8k

Two Old Men | Five Hargreeves / GN Reader (Fluff)- Words 3.3k

No Blinking! | Five Hargreeves & 3 y/o daughter (Fluff) Words: 3k

Twelve Feet Away From the Mistletoe Part 1, Part 2 | Five Hargreeves / F Reader (Fluff, angst) Total words: 5.8k

Senseless | Five Hargreeves/ GN Reader 1.3k words, Rated T/M (Angst + steamy)

Smut (E rated/18+)

NSFW Alphabet | Five Hargreeves/ F Reader - Words: 2.4k

Two Items of Business | Five Hargreeves/ F Reader/ FReader- Words: 2.1k (kind of a crackfic. Not my best.)

Goddamn Darling | Five Hargreeves/ F Reader- Words: 2.1k

If Tonight Were our Last | Five Hargreeves/ F Reader- Words: 2.4k (mild smut, probably between M+E ratings)

Boy Wonder | Five Hargreeves/ F Reader- Words: 2.7k

Lucky Fucking Pillow | Five Hargreeves/ F Reader- Words: 3k

In Your Hands | Five Hargreeves / GN Reader - Words: 3.1k

The Birthday Boy | Five Hargreeves/ F Reader- Words: 3.8k

Your Desperate Man | Five Hargreeves/ GN Reader- Words 2.8k

Venus and Cupid | Five Hargreeves/ F Reader- Words 4k (inc. fluff, romance, hurt/comfort)

The Birthday Girl | Five Hargreeves/ F Reader- Words 2.8k

The Pandas and the Conservationist | Five Hargreeves/ F Reader - Words 5k.

My Main Series (E rated/18+)

Hard Feelings | Five Hargreeves/ f Reader

A 6 part series posted weekly on Tumblr. We're talking PWP, Daddy!Five, mysteries to solve and a healthy dose of trauma. It can get heavy at times but there are plenty of laughs too

Headcanons (SFW + NSFW)

Five Headcanon masterlist

Request info

I'm fairly versatile in what I write (fluff, smut, angst, psychological character study- I'll try it all) but I will consider them on a case by case basis so please don't be offended if I don't respond- sometimes ideas don't work for me or are outside my scope but that doesn't mean it's a bad idea!

Boundaries (hard lines):

I exclusively write physically aged-up content for Five. Think 6+ years after the end of season 3.

I don't want to write about Five having sex with very young or inexperienced people. He's 58 and it feels messy. (No issue with age gap in general, I just feel like the younger partner should be old and experienced enough to consent to a 58y/o understanding the implications.

Ageplay - anything with 'littles'.

Trends (what I've noticed about myself so far):

Prompts that need Five to be very OOC tend not to appeal to me.

I am likely to reject prompts intended to be sexy where the boundaries of consent are too blurry. Yandere is an example of what I tend to not enjoy. (I will still consider prompts but may change them up a bit).

I can struggle if something is out of the scope of my experience. It's like, your prompt may appeal to me but, I don't know how to fulfil it. To give one example for smut, I may need more info in terms of what exactly you find hot about a kink you have but I don't.

So I have a weird thing...I like to write in a canon-compatible way. I don't like writing things with a reader character inserted into scenes in the show. Now, this is partly because I don't think it generates a lot of creative scope, but I also just generally don't like writing situations that directly contradict canon. I have always been like this, even when I was fourteen and writing awful HP fanfic. I don't understand it, I know I'm weird, but my brain basically goes: 'BUT THAT'S NOT HOW IT HAPPENED!!!111' and refuses to function.

[just-some-random-blogger]

Hey! Hope you're having a fab day <3 I came across your lil Daemon/Matt 'crackfic' and it gave me such a giggle...plus also got me thinking about a similar scene with Aemond/Ewan..! Obviously no pressure to write this, but what about a sorta Aemond x reader scene where they're maybe filming a sparring scene? Fight training/flirting vibes? Doesn't have to be anything spicy, maybe just fluffy flirty good times but also realistically aemond x reader sparring = *sexual tension* so lol, take from it what you will. As I say, no pressure at all to write this. I love your blog so much and am such a fan of your work! Wishing you a wonderful weekend xoxo

Choke 'Em

Ewan Mitchell x Actress!Reader (low key Aemond x Reader)

Summary: You and Tom were very much convinced that Ewan is good at everything, so you had a bet that even if you took Ewan surprise in one of your sparring takes, he could 100% overpower you. Things don't necessarily go as planned.

Word Count: 1k+

Warnings: fem!reader, drama instigator!tom glynn-carney, puppy!ewan, idk how to choreograph action 😞, fluff, typos, etc.

A/N: YES IN A MILLLION LANGUAGEs, i watched like this one of 3 actors from the last kingdom saying they think ewan is good at everything or something along the lines, and then theres this gif set of tom glynn-carney saying that he was going to bite ewan and ewan was basically "aw yeah!" and ASFHLASHFHASFHFHA PUPPY im love him, anyway, i had those stuff in mind when i wrote this i hope you like it my love floofdeloop. i did an express pass on your req cos i have been writing rpfs lol also this gif T_T HES SO ??????????? HOT ????? HELP ME WHY DO I THINK THIS OF HIM ???? HWELP? Tagging: @pinksirensong @deniixlovezelda

"No!" I exclaim, shoving Tom from the floor we were sat on. He nearly chokes on his salad as he falls to his side and laughs. His hand darts out to keep him upright, his laughter dies down when he turns to me.

I continue, "I can't attack him outside of the choreography we practiced!"

"I'm not telling you to do that!" Tom says, raising his voice in amusement, "I'm saying maybe just-" he breathes out through his nose, "go a bit harder than normal? Or-or add a few licks to-"

"Tom," I deadpan.

"Oh, please," he blows a raspberry, "against him? You're dead meat."

"He's not immune to accidents, lame brain," I take the final bites of my sandwich.

"All I'm saying is, Ewan is probably, like, secretly a swordsman."

"Dude," I point, "there's nothing secret about that."

I look out to the set, watching as Ewan, who quickly finished his lunch to rebuff on our choreography, twist the prop sword in his hands with much ease and mastery.

I chew slowly, "maybe I could tell him I'm doing extra attacks beforehand."

Tom, who stuffed some salad into his face as he too watched Ewan from afar, turns to me, perking up in intrigue. He speaks with a mouthful quite excitedly, "yes, yes, yeth, weth!"

I give him a look then purse my lips as I shove a tissue to his mouth

When we got to filming the dialogue part of our scene, we already set a pretty high bar for our consequential fight sequence, and so when I offered the idea of adding an extra few jabs in my sword fighting, not just to Ewan, but to our fight choreographer and director, they were all on board with it.

"I was thinking I could," I start, raising my imaginary weapon up, pointing at Ewan, "try to jab at you by your throat, then," I slowly step forward, twirling the way we did in practice, "once you evade me, I could elbow you," I bring my arm by his chest and slowly push him back, "and shove you against the wall."

Ewan, following my train of thought and movements, steps back and leans back on the wall. He nods, looking down at me with a soft smile, "I like it," he turns to the choreographer, "I think it adds to their tension."

I turn to our choreographer and director, nodding, "then we could add the dialogue we scraped off cause there was no room for it."

The director claps his hands, "I love it," he motions to us, "then you can grab her, and try to make her confess."

I turn to Ewan, leaning back into him a bit so that he could bring his arms around me. I turn front then look down at his arms that were coming around me. I pull him tightly around me like a jacket.

Ewan has no choice but to lean into me; my back was against his chest and I could hear his breathing. He was a welcome presence in all honesty. Quickly, I relax against him and he seemingly does the same against me.

"Well obviously not like that," the director calls, "you look like a married couple if you do that."

We break into a laugh. I lean against him, "it's not too late to change the script. She and Aemond could away together."

Ewan hums, as though he was in character, "I think he would like that."

I snort, turning to Ewan and his eyepatch, "I would like that."

Ewan's eye darts down to me quickly. He purses his lips, holding back a chuckle. I pull away from him when I see the pink in his skin, laughing a bit louder.

"Shall we give it a go?" the director asks.

One nod later, and were back in our marks, ready to tryout our added choreo.

"You lied to me," I heave, "you told me you would release my father if I gave you the information you needed.

Aemond walks over to me, hands behind his back, "I said I would think about releasing your father."

My expression drops, my nostrils flare, "liar."

He hums.

"Craven!"

He chuckles.

"MONSTER!" I lunge towards him and the next second, Aemond has his sword unsheathed. We go against each other, weapon against weapon, then he overpowers me, sending me reeling back. I push against the crates behind me, as the prince calls out, "let me offer you another deal you surely cannot refuse."

I fume, groaning, "I think we're past deals, oh prince."

"Oh, but I-"

Aemond's eye widens as I press forward a few lines too early. Like clockwork, I attack him just like we practiced earlier, except, he was clearly taken off guard and reacts a bit too late.

Once I have him pressed against he wall, he looks down at me, shocked, heaving.

He's forgotten his line.

I make up for his silence, "perhaps you are prettier up close."

"CUT!"

I pull away from Ewan, turning to him, dropping my prop. I reach out to his cheeks, giving him a worried look, "are you okay? I didn't injure you, did I?"

"I-" his hands come up to my wrists, "no, no," he chuckles under his breath, "I was just a bit floored by how fearsome my lady is."

My face contorts into a smile, "my lady, am I?"

"I-" he opens his mouth, "well, I mean... yes."

We both break into a chuckle. It seems we both had blood rising up our necks now.

"That was amazing!" the director calls, walking up to us, making us pull away, "I like these turn of events more than what we had planned."

"What if they have more contact?" Ewan pipes up, coming in front of me, "in this part, instead of being turned back," he looks at me intently, "you can lift your sword to my neck then choke me."

I gasp when he takes my hand and places it by the base of his throat. It was quite softly spoken, but it seems it was not soft enough, "damn, that's kinky."

Ewan's jaw slacks.

I break into a chuckle, playing it off, just as the director laughs, proceeding to say, "I like it! The more sexual tension the better." He turns to me, "choke him real good."

Ewan begins to stutter. My own jaw slacks as I feel my face heat up. I awkwardly nod and salute, "will do."

[the-banana-0verlord]

idea: fem!reader finally getting to spend some time with some girls after being at nrc for a while, and she's spending time with them in a sleepover and out of jealousy the first years try to sneak in disguised as girls

Thank your the request! I'm sorry I'm taking so long on all of the request, my week's been crazy and I'm at loss for ideas.

Also this started out as a crackfic and then it turned into a romantic oneshot with different endings and I have no idea how that happened-

Anyways enjoy!

Girl's night(First Years X Reader)

Notes: Fem Reader, different endings for each of the first years, ft najma, my wife, crackfic.

***

«This is a terrible idea, groaned Jack.

-It's an Ace idea, corrected Deuce.»

The first years were watching Najma and youbrush each other's hair through the Ramshackle windows. The first year's movie night had been canceled by Najma showing up unexpectedly . Since you had been living in an all boys school, you had jumped on the occasion to spend time with another girl. And so, you had organized a sleepover with Jamil's sister.

And now Ace had just suggested to dress up as girls to enter the sleepover.

«I mean, it wouldn't be hard, Epel already looks like a girl, he pleaded his case.

-I also have a fist that could very much end up in your face.»

So they all thought about it, over and over. It would be wrong, but they really wanted to join the sleepover, especially after they had been cheated out on movie night.

«Alright, Jack gave in. But if anything happens, you're to blame.

-Yeah yeah, sure.»

***

You opened your front door with Najma by your side. Someone had been knocking on it for about five minutes. What you didn't expect to see, though, was your friends in atrociously pink dresses and loads of makeup. You heard Najma snicker quietly.

By shooting glares at him, you had a silent conversation with Ace:

«What are you doing here?! And wearing that!

-We're having our movie night!

-How stubborn are you exactly?

-Just roll with it!»

Ace was already regretting his decision as you turned to Najma with a smile.

«Oh, I forgot to tell you, I invited some friends from Sage's town to join us. I hope you don't mind!

-Of course not! We could use some more... Girls around.»

.The boys followed you to the lounge, their dresses knocking over various objects on the way. You had put matresses all over the floor with colored blankets and snacks scattered around.

«Since this is a sleepover, you should be in pyjamas, you said smugly.

-We... Forgot them at home! Boomed Sebek.

-Do you want to use mine?

-Yes, Thanks the sevens.»

They were relievec they were going to be able to get out of the rose skirts. Most of your pyjamas normally wouldn't have fit some of them, but you liked oversized clothes so the taller ones like Jack or Sebek could borrow your hoodies. Finally, when you were all seated, Najma broke the ice.

«So... I don't think I know any of your names?»

They all looked at Ace with looks saying It's you who came up with the idea, deal with this.

«Well I'm, uh, Cecilia, he muttered. This is Doris(he gestured at Deuce) Jessica(Jack), Penelope(Epel) and Seraphina(Sebek).

-Those are interesting names.

-Our mother were a little special.

-Hm.»

Najma and you looked at each other, not even trying to hide your devilish smiles.

«How about we play truth or dare? you proposed.

-Excuse me what? they all shivered.

-Of course! Cheered Najma. It'll be fun!

-Sure...

-I'll start, then. Cecilia, truth or dare?

-Uh, truth?

-Do you like someone?»

Crap.

Ace did not plan this. He'll be sure to get you back.

«Yes, I do like someone.

-Ooh, who is it?

-Ah! You alredy used your question! It's my turn now! Who do you like?»

Classic Ace. You should've known it would come back for you. Oh well, your secret would've been out eventually.

«I like...

🎲Ace Trappola 🎲

...Ace Trappola.»

Wait what? You liked him? He's trying real hard to stay cool, but he's panicking alright. He can't lose face in front of everyone else. This is going to be a long night...

🎲🎲🎲

Late into the night, you felt someone shaking you up. You opened your eyes to see Ace.

«Psst, wake up, idiot.

-Hmm... What do you want?

-Is it true?

-Is it true what?

-That you like me dammit!

-Yeah, so what?

-Well you can't drop somehting as big as this and just sleep it away?

-What does it matter to you anyways? You're not into me.

-Who said that?»

Now, it was your turn to be shocked.

«You mean you like me back?

-Well duh.»

You both sat in silence in the dark lounge.

«So... Are we a thing now?

-Guess so.»

You brought your faces closer together, closing your eyes. Your lips touched and moved in sync. Suddenly, a loud snore made you jump. Your lips parted to look at a sleeping Deuce. Slightly giggling, hand in hand, you went back to sleep.

🍳Deuce Spade 🍳

...Deuce Spade.»

He nearly choked as you said the words. Jack pat his back in sympathy. You smiled akwardly, blushin, then started to shower Ace in overpersonal questions.

🍳🍳🍳

Deuce had the good sense not to talk about the matter directly, but all this overthinking finally made him hungry. Careful not to wake anyone(a.k.a. he tried to minimise the damage when he tripped on Epel and Sebek), he slipped into the kitchen.

It was a surprise, though, when he found you eating ice cream on the counter and directly out of the box. you both froze as you took conscience of the presence of the other.

You looked at him, then at your ice cream. You gestured at Deuce him with your spoon.

«Do you want some?

-... Okay.»

He took his place on the counter next to you after taking a spoon of his own in the drawer. The silence was akward, and he could not take it.

«Is it true you like me?

-Well yes, why else would I have said it?

-I-I don't know, becasue you wanted to say something to get out of the situation?

-Didn't think you could overthink like this.

-Hm...»

As he processed the confession, his mouth slowly opened. You stuffed a spoonful of ice cream in it.

«I love you, Deuce Spade. Now, do you like me too?

-Y-yes, yes I do.

-Then kiss me.

-Huh?»

You looked at him in the eyes, adorning a mischevious smile.

«Kiss me.»

🌵Jack Howl 🌵

...Jack Howl.»

He blinked slowly. He wasn't prepared for your answer.

He also wasn't emotionally ready to respond to it.

🌵🌵🌵

It had been actually a few days before you could get anything out of him. You were worried that because of your confession he wouldn't want to be friends anymore.

At one point, you couldn't take it anymore. You ah to know what he felt. You searched around for him ,and found him lifting weights on the sport's field.

«We need to talk, you announced.»

He let the weights down, sighing. He knew this would come.

«I-

-No, please, let me talk first, he interrupted you. I'm sorry for not talking to you in the last three days. I'm not good with the whole love things, so I needed to sort out my feelings first to not mess things up. I don't want to make excuses, I am aware I probably didn't handle the situation very well.»

You were taken aback by his words. Out of everything, you weren't prepared for this honest of an answer.

«Apology accepted, I guess. After thinking about it, what do you feel?

-I feel warm when I'm with you, and you always seem to brighten up my day. So, I like you back.»

You smiled.

«We could go on a date, then?

-Of course. Monstro Lounge, tomorrow at seven?

-Yeah, I'll be there.»

Akwardly, you said your goodbyes as you ahd nothing else to say. As you left, you felt his eyes linger on you, making your heart flutter.

🍎Epel Felmier 🍎

...Epel Felmier.»

Epel got up abruptly, making everyone look at him. With an unreadable face, he gripped your wrist and dragged you into the dining room. When he was sure he was out of earshot, he turned to you.

«You really like me?!

-Yes? Also you couldv'e been softer on the wrist.

-Ah, oh, sorry.»

He scratched the back of his head.

«But you like me for real?

-Yes. Please stop asking me and tell me how you feel about it! You didn't drag me here for nothing!

-Right, right. I like you too.

-Really?!

-Yes! Sevens!»

A silence ensued, only to be followed by both your laughters. It came and it wouldn't stop. The situation was so unbelievable for the two of you. From the lounge, you heard Ace's voice.

«Are you guys done? We're still waitng here, so stop your lovey-dovey stuff and come back so we can watch a movie!

-Wait-You heard all of that?!

-The walls are thin you know!»

You and Epel burst out laughing again.

⚡Sebek Zigvolt ⚡

...Sebek Zigvolt.

-WHAT?!»

His booming voice echoed across the room. Suddenly aware of it, he tried to cover it up.

«Ahem, my aoplogies. I just happen to know that man. And I must say, you have excellent taste.»

Why do you like him again?

«Anyhow, you are allowed to return to playing the game.»

Luckily, the rest of the night happened without further incidents.

⚡⚡⚡

The day after, you found him at your doorstep, flowers in hands.

«Ah! Greetings, Human. he said as you opened the door. Master Lilia told me it was custom to offer flowers to those we are courting, so I brought you this bouquet.

-You're courting me?

-Well of course! I like you and you like me, so it's obvious!

-You like me?

-I just said so, didn't I?»

You stood there, dumbfounded. You had no idea oh his feelings for you. He was either as clear as a book or as closed as a lid, no in between. It was hard to keep up.

«Are you listening to me?»

You were caught out of your stupor by him.

«Uh no, sorry, what were you saying again?

-I was inviting you on a date, another courting tradition.

-Well I would love to go.

-Perfect. Master Lilia also taught me a proper farewell includes a kiss on the back of the hand. May I?»

He presented hsi own hand to take yours. You let him, and with a pink tint on his cheeks, he kissed it.

«Goodbye, human. I await for your presence tonight.»

You stood on your tip-toes and applied your lips on his cheek.

«Looking forward to it.»

He lightly touched the area you kissed, astonished.

That's why you loved him.

***

I hope you enjoyed!

Have a good day/night!

[chuuyascumsock]

Hot Cocket || Minors DNI

I just realized I never posted my Dazai fucking a hot pocket fic on here. If the Ao3 babes had to suffer, y’all do too LMAO.

Summary: Ah, yes, welcome to the bullshit that I call “art”. Today’s episode: Dazai fucks a Hot Pocket. Don’t ask me what gave me this idea, my friend came up with it so thank him for this utter monstrosity. I suppose I’ll take the smallest bit of credit for wanting to write a crackfic of Dazai sticking his dick in something he shouldn’t— because it’s called having a sense of humor.

Tags: Dazai Osamu/Hot Pocket, I talk about how dazai would definitely be a ham and cheese hot pocket kind of a guy, I make kind of weird metaphorical jokes, If Asagiri gets to blow children up then I can throw them into traffic, descriptions of fucking a hot pocket, descriptions of burning the dick (because he’s fucking a HOT pocket), um… creampie in a hot pocket..?, oh— and then Fyodor eats the hot cum pocket lol.

Dazai had been feeling particularly lonely on a Saturday night.

Without any women around to woo with his unhinged rizz, Dazai sought after a cheap comfort food he often turned to in his crippling depressive times. The freezer flings open with a creak to reveal the godly image of a box of hot pockets. As expected— nothing else resided in the freezer other than said hot pockets because Dazai was as broke as a medical college student in debt.

Dazai reaches a bandaged hand inside before grasping the box and pulling it close to his chest. He could already feel saliva pooling in his mouth as he re-lived his previous encounters and tastes of his hot pockets. But this one was different. This one was pepperoni. Normally, Dazai was a ham and cheese kind of guy, but they had been barren of any ham and cheese hot pockets. It made him sad to think about, but it also brought rejoice as he could finally try another flavor of hot pocket.

Dazai is quick to tear the box’s top off and reach a hand inside to grab the frozen snack pocket out. Even in a plastic wrapping, he could still smell the permeating waft of garlic and herbs. He fumbled around the kitchen as he ripped the plastic off and put the snack into the small cardboard pocket, basically throwing the hot pocket into the microwave like you would throw a small child into oncoming traffic.

Not really giving a fuck, Dazai punches the microwave which some how starts a two minute timer and the hot pocket starts spinning in small, grueling long circles. His eyes stare into the microwave’s glass window, taking in the way the hot pocket slowly warms up.

Deep down, Dazai wished to be a hot pocket. Because he, too, wished to be cooked in a microwave. What a way to go out.

It feels like eternity until the microwave beeps loudly to signify that the slutty— I mean tasty treat is done cooking. His eyes light up and Dazai takes the hot pocket out of the microwave. “It’s… It’s beautiful…” He whispers tearfully as the hot pocket steams from the packet. Realizing how hot it was the next few seconds after, he tosses it between his hands and onto the counter gently, “Ow— hot, hot— ahhhh.”

Staring at the hot pocket, Dazai begins to drool excessively— oh, and he was hard. Dude got a raging boner from looking at this hot pocket too long. Just like me fr.

“Aw man, now I’m super horny…” He whines as he looks down at his tightened slacks. He thinks for a moment before he looks back to the hot pocket and gets an idea.

The hot pocket steamed in need of his ACHING COCK (I can see you cringing behind that screen, Guac <3). Or at least that’s how Dazai took it because of how horny he was. “You want me, don’t you?” He grins at the hot pocket with desire— only getting a soft puff of steam in return and a whiff of garlic that made him twice as hard.

Eager to get off now, Dazai unzips his slacks and pushes them down enough to have access to the hot pocket. His accurate sized dick of three inches— I mean— his monster cock slapped against his stomach as he wasn’t wearing underwear because it’s canon that he goes commando. Dazai then took the hot pocket and brought it to his lips before taking a slow bite. And in typical Dazai fashion— he moaned loud enough for the entire apartment complex to hear and got several noise complaints which all went to Kunikida’s answering machine.

“My god, you’re such a slutty tease,” Dazai groans, swallowing the cold ass bite that’s always at the end of the hot pocket. Pushing at the sides with his fingers, the hot pocket opens to reveal its gooey melted cheese and sloppy pizza sauce insides with the occasional chunks of pepperoni. Dazai stroked his cock until he had spread enough precum along his length, though it’s questionable as to why he would as he’s fucking a hot pocket pussy and not actual pussy because he gets none.

Wasting no more time, Dazai slid his dick into the scalding hot pocket and screamed from the pain of literal lava burning the skin of his dick. But he kept trekking through the feeling, because he’ll be damned having his dick blistered by some hot pizza sauce and melting mozzarella chunks ruin him from being horny enough to fuck a microwaveable snack. “Yeah, you like that you dirty, saucy whore?” He grunted, uncaring of the melted cheese and pizza sauce sticking to his now blistering cock.

As this poor hot pocket was being violated like no one’s business, Kunikida was sobbing himself to sleep after getting multiple detailed complaints about how loud Dazai was being while he was aggressively fucking a hot pocket like I did to your mom last night.

“I’m gonna turn you into a toaster strudel, baby,” Dazai moaned loudly, thrusting harder into the hot pocket before filling it to the brim with his cum. “That’s it, take my seed you cheesy whore…” He panted, pulling his dick out of the cum stuffed hot pocket. It took a few moments until he realized the damage that the hot pocket had done to his dick as he looked down to see the various red burn spots and blistering skin covered in pizza sauce, cheese, and pepperoni. “Now I’m going to need bandages for my dick…” He sighed, tossing the hot pocket aside like they didn’t have a special bond. “Well, I’m not hungry anymore, my dick hurts… Time to stick it in some ice cream~” Dazai trailed off to get Kunikida’s credit card to go buy and defile yet another item of food.

As the hot pocket sat on the ground oozing with cum, a rat squeaked and scampered by before sniffing the hot pocket. Deemed worthy enough to take it back to its master, the rat dragged the hot pocket into a mouse hole and scrambled through the walls of the apartments until it made its way outside and into a manhole. Making its way through the sewers, the rat finally arrives at its master.

“What is this?” A Russian accent echoes through the sewers. Slender hands pick up the rat and the hot pocket, Fyodor looking at both with a questionable gaze. The rat squeaks to communicate with the Russian joker and squirms out of his grasp to scatter off to its family.

“A toaster strudel, you say? I’ve never seen such a thing, incredible…” Fyodor doesn’t even bother to take a good look at the hot pocket to see the fluids dripping out of it before he takes a large bite and chews. His face scrunches up— but he keeps eating because man is anemic and refuses to eat anymore of his belly button lint to survive.

“What a strange tasting toaster strudel…”