#i just feel like its a part of me at this point

[rusmii]

Out in California, I've been forward stroking, swim.

— how the bsd men FUCK you. ft. chuuya, dazai, tecchou, and ango x FEM!reader

⟢ reblogs greatly appreciated mwuah 🤍

c/ws::: ooc as fuck cause its smut. lots of cumming and theres sub ango too as well as impact play/slapping in angos part. MDNI

a/ns::: omg gasp runi finally dropped ?!?!?! neways song is based off swim by chase atlantic <3

✦ CHUUYA fucks you like there's no tomorrow. his version of fuck is love, he is a verse-service top and won't hesitate to put your needs above his. "so good f'me baby," he whispers little praises above you as he rams his thick cock into your cunt. chuuya, at the start, tries to be as gentle and careful as he could, but most times he loses himself to the pleasure and let's loose a little bit of his strength. his grip his bruising and will hurt pretty bad later, but his dick outweighs the pain—"nah, don't," he grunts in annoyance the moment you cover your face, hips still thrusting in and out as he prys your arms away from your face and pins them above your head using one hand. chuuya is the type of lover to make sure that you come first or together. it's an absolute must, and when chuuya cums, you can feel that shit plug you up with just a few spurts. his cum is thicky, creamy, goey, and a little bit sticky. even with condoms on, his cum is so hot, it feels as if you've been doing it raw.

"fucking—! sweetheart, 'm cummin, you feel so fuckin' g-ghn-good for me— fuck! aggnn... shiit.."

✦ DAZAI fucks you aggressively at first. you were nothing but a one night stand, someone who he could relieve his stress from and move on without complaint. however, this didn't seem to be the case for the mutual sex relationship you both set up. at the start, dazai is a dominant top, not allowing you to see him so vulnerable, and at this point of time, he still has his bandages on. "no darl'.. so sorry, maybe next time?" he would always make false promises for you to top him during the next session, but none of that happened—until the relationship changes for the better. it takes a while, but dazai finally opens up, becomes vulnerable and finally bottoms for you, nervousness in his system as he's stripped of everything, including his bandages—"ah! fuck! w-wait-mhn! tha-that feels sooo goood..!" he whines into the pillow, back arching as you ride his dick like tomorrow.

"gh—! [name]!! i- i feel it—uhnn! im- cu-cuhnn—!!"

✦ TECCHOU fucks you so passionately, you feel like shedding tears out of the pure love you feel. tecchou is a traditional dom-top, always concerned about making sure you're taken care of first. "are you alright? does it hurt?" he asks as he's bulldozing your pussy. tecchous dick is long, with a fat tip and thick base. he doesn't tell you this, but stuffing you full with his cock turns him on so much, he's able to cum within just a few thrusts inside your hole. tecchou isn't a moaner, more like a grunter, but that doesn't mean he isn't enjoying it, nah that man is probably under the pleasure more than you, cumming and stuffing your hole more than you could imagine. tecchou has thought of kids at one point in time, but with him being in the hunting dogs it just wasn't going to work out—so let him fuck his concerns away tonight first, then he can fuck his kids inside you in the future.

"i- i think—ghn! im- cummin' 'm cummin, please lemme cum—you're so good for - gh - me—hnn!"

✦ ANGO fucks you like a bottom bitch, he's the bottom getting bitched. he absolutely loves it when you ride his shit like you're rocking his world; everything is nothing but muddled into one the moment he feels your pussy wrapping itself around his dick. ango is a loud bitch, moaning and whining every time he feels a trinkle of pleasure—crying tears of pleasure whenever you slap him. ango himself didn't know how much into slapping he was— he fucking loves it when you slap his ass, thighs, chest, and even face—" 'm sorrryyy!! i won't move again! please - ride me—mhn!" he begs after you slapped his face for thrusting up without your permission. he cums fast and easily, being so turned on by you, he just can't help it! ango writhes in overstimulation every damn time, but he doesn't make an effort to move, loving every single round you pull out of him until you're done.

“i - [name] - ghnn—! im - sogoodsogood—!”

im gonna remake my taglist bleh

here’s a poll for what imma work on next

RUSMII 2024 . dont do the basic copyright shit. ty.

[lovesphases]

Could you write something where reader is best friends with Sarah and has had a crush on rafe for a long time. There’s some situation like going on vacation with the Cameron family and John b joins so the reader has to share a bed with rafe. He wakes up at night bc reader is having a wet dream, cuddled up next to/on him, grinding against his thigh. He gets really turned on and starts touching her & she wakes up. Maybe he teases her a bit like asking if she had a good dream, pointing out how wet she got his thigh and then they have sex. Reader is a bit embarrassed and shy about it. - 🧚🏻‍♂️

i love the way your brain works. also sorry i got a bit carried away. pt 2!

MDNI 18+

going on a yearly vacation with the cameron’s is not something new to you. you’d always share a room with sarah, staying up late the room filled with your giggles and hushed whispers. this time would be different though. sarah’s new boyfriend, john b would be tagging along. the new addition causing sleeping arrangements to be changed.

“what do you mean i have to share a room with rafe?” you stare at sarah, eyes nearly popping out of your head.

“it’ll be fine. rafe can just sleep on the floor!”

“no fucking way! i’m not sleeping in the same room as him!”

“pleaseeee? for me?” she clasps her hands together, giving you that look that makes you crumble everytime.

“jesus christ. fine. just this once. you owe me though.” you huff out. she lets out a loud squeal

“ohmygosh thank you so much! i definitely owe you big time!” you roll your eyes.

“yeah whatever. you’re lucky i love you.”

"i am not sleeping on the fucking floor" rafe snaps at you. irritated with the situation and ready to go to bed.

"fine i'll go find somewhere else to sleep then." you huff out crossing your arms. you begin to head towards the door when rafe calls out.

"jesus kid. this bed is big enough for the both of us to sleep and keep a good distance away from each other. what do you think m' gonna do?"

"i dunno. maybe suffocate me in my sleep or something." he lets out a laugh, he can't help but find your dramatics funny.

"just get in the fucking bed"

"fine. but keep your hands to yourself. i swear to god" you poke at him

"got it." he raises his hands in defense.

its 3 am when rafe wakes up to you practically laying on top of him, grinding on his thigh. he rubs his eyes, making sure he's awake and that this is really happening. you let out a quiet whimper as your brows furrow together. he stares down at you, a smirk forming on his face.

he allows his fingers to find your core, softly grazing over your cunt. he can feel the fabric that does little to cover you slowly becoming soaked. this pushes him over the edge as he moves ur panties to the side, slowly dragging his fingers through your folds catching on your clit. you let out a moan as your eyes begin to flutter open.

"rafe? what are you doing?"

"what am i doing? you were the one who woke me up, humping my leg like a bitch in heat. you're a cock hungry whore even when you're asleep.” you let out another moan, his fingers still rubbing at your clit.

"if you don't want this then tell me to stop." your hips begin to buck up involuntary. heat rises to your cheeks, thanking god that its dark and he can't see just how embarrassed you are. but with the pressure he's applying to your needy clit all rational thoughts leave your brain. your senses completely filled with rafe.

"rafe. please just fuck me. need it so bad." you let out a desperate whine, his teasing increasing your arousal, though still not enough.

"yeah that's what i thought." he shoves two thick fingers inside of you without any warning. causing you to take a sharp breath in. his fingers massage that spongy part that makes your head fuzzy and your eyes roll back. the band in your tummy tightening with each stroke of his fingers.

"you gonna cum?" you nod your head vigorously as you feel yourself getting closer to the edge.

"yeah? what happened to you wanting me to keep my hands to myself? over here makin' a mess all over my fingers."

"please rafe im so close. can i please cum? i need it" tears gather at your waterline. the burning in your stomach almost too much to handle.

"fuck. go ahead. cum for me baby. make a fucking mess." his words cause the band to snap, your orgasm washing over you soaking his hand and the sheets.

"good girl. that's it. let me have it." he helps you ride out your high before pulling his fingers out of your cunt. he brings his fingers to your mouth.

"gotta clean up the mess you made. yeah?"

[stargirlsturniololover]

home for me

request: si si by a nonnie

warnings: cuddly cuteness, my horrible skills

summary: reader comes home from vacation to a very clingy matt.

tags: @st7rnioioss , @lxvelyzoe , @braindead4l , @cindylcuwho , @its-jennarose

also: i hope this cooked

also^2: maggie is the friend who’s getting married! cause i love the name maggie😊

also^3: the name is misleading cause you think it’s like “DADDY’S HOMEEEEEE” but it’s more like “sweet baby want’s his mama homeee😙”

SPECIAL THANKS: to my pookie @madsmadeit for the title

fit check

reader

matt

clingy!nerd!matt sturniolo x reader

your plane arrived and the second you stepped into the airport you immediately called matt.

“baby?” you hummed as soon as matt picked up. you heard a quiet sigh on the other end of the phone as matt said a quiet “hi”.

“we just landed matt! where are you?” you questioned, wondering where your boyfriend was going to pick you up.

“i’m standing by the starbucks.” he hummed, waiting for your coffee to finish up.

“did you get a drink?” you asked, starting your walk to the starbucks at the airport.

“‘ve already ordered it.” he said, going to the counter when they called for his name.

“oh i could kiss you!” you squealed, picking up your pace as you neared the starbucks.

“oh i sure hope you will,” matt hummed, referencing the lack of affection he’d received the past week due to your vacation in hawaii with your friends.

he wanted to go with you, stating that a week was far too long without you, but the fact that this was your best friend’s bachelorette party made him feel bad about being whiny and clingy.

you remembered that he vowed that the minute you got home he’d love on you, so you were mentally prepared for anything at that point.

when you rounded the corner and saw the starbucks, matt immediately came running at you full speed.

you giggled as matt threw you in his arms and began peppering kisses on every inch of open space.

“hi baby, i take it you missed me,” you hummed, pulling matt away so you could look at his blushing face.

his glasses sat slightly crooked on his nose, so you fixed them which caused him to blush even more.

“how was the trip?!” he questioned, grabbing your bags and starting the walk to the parking lot.

“it was good! maggie’s shower and party were gorgeous!! we played games, went to some dance clubs, we sat on the edge of the water and had cocktails.” you hummed, sipping your starbucks drink and listing off the various other beachy activities you did.

“well i’m glad you had fun, but i’m also glad you’re home,” matt murmured, putting your stuff in the back of the car.

“i figured you’d be missing me baby. i’m real sorry you couldn’t come.” you whispered, kissing matt’s forehead and getting in the passenger seat.

“it’s ok princess. chris and nick are at nate’s for the night so me and you can cuddle all night long.” he hummed, grabbing your hand.

you smiled at him as the two of you continued your drive home. 20 minutes later, the two of you arrived.

after a quick shower on your part, you started your skincare routine as matt sat on the closed toilet and watched.

“i missed you so much baby,” he hummed, opening his arms snd gesturing for you to come and stand between his legs.

you shimmied yourself into the crevice between his legs and put your hands on his cheeks.

“i know you silly baby, but ‘m home now,” you said, kissing him gently on the lips.

“are you almost done with all that,” he questioned, pointing at your various creams and oils.

“yes matt, go wait in bed for me,” you said, going back to the sink to finish washing your face.

“no” he said, crossing his arms over his chest.

when you realized it was useless to argue over this, and realized that he wouldn’t be leaving you alone for the next 3 business days, you let out a sigh.

“alright baby,” you hummed, dabbing off your face with a towel.

“c’mon,” you said, taking matt’s glasses off his face and setting them on the counter. this caused him to let out a whine.

“now i can’t see you,” he whined, grabbing your hand as you led him to bed.

“hush matt, you’ll be able to see me for the rest of our lives,” you said, slipping into the bed.

“fine, but you’re wasting my princess-watch-time,” he mumbled, slipping in beside you.

he curled up next to you, head on your chest as you wrapped your arms tightly around him.

“i love you matty,” you hummed, kissing his head before closing your eyes.

“i love you too,” he said, kissing your collarbone and closing his eyes as well.

you learned that night that you would never, ever leave matt again.

[dancingmonbelum]

simon x gn!reader

cw // deaf reader, simon being ableist, mention of hearing loss/deaf, simon being toxic.

—————————☆—————————

Communicating was hard enough for Simon, given that he wasn't a very social person. One was sufficient; two were demanding; and three were exhausting. Although that much was forgotten when he met you, the only person who was patient enough to crack that wall– allowing him to open up even to the smallest details of his life.

As time went by, the accumulated words he had said to you was greater than to anyone he had even knew in his whole life. That alone showed just how much he appreciated being heard by you, he never knew his words– his life, could be so interesting to someone to elate excitement and adoration.

But, the house– once full of spoken tales was quieted down when you found out that you're experiencing hearing loss. To the point that you could lose it forever. From there, Simon would find his words falling on deaf ears and him having to constantly repeat everything to you. Not just once– sometimes twice, and on special occasion, thrice. This moment was no exception to that problem.

"Sorry, Si, what was it?"

Silence erupted between them after the second time Simon had already repeated himself.

"Nevermind. You taken your meds yet?"

"Oh– right, let me do that right now." You went to grab the bag of medications on the nightstand that Simon had carefully prepared for you this week. But, seeing the bag untouched only made Simon sighed in response, your carelessness to this whole thing– It baffled him. 'It's like getting better was not important', he always thought to himself.

"You keep forgetting to take it."

The way you nodded to acknowledge your constant mistake ignited a flame of anger in Simon's heart– letting out a deeper sigh, calming himself in attempt of not letting it spread to his head and blow up.

"Oh, well... you know me, Si. Thank goodness I have you to remind me." You chuckled to your own words, earning a loud grumble from Simon about how it's careless to forget about things like this.

In attempt of downplaying your mistake, you avoided his glaring eyes. Hoping that he'd let it slide, again. But, it didn't work this time.

"Just– please, why're you not taking this seriously? It's like you want to go deaf." He dramatically flailed his arms around, before they made its way to tug on his hair in frustration. You don't want to believe the words he's saying right now, because you swear nothing had been this crystal clear to you since you lost your hearing.

"It's always 'can you repeat that?' with you. Why do I have to keep repeating things?"

His words would only grow harsher, and you knew you had to stop it before it worsen. But, there was no stopping Simon as he stood up from the bed and turned around abruptly to face you.

"It feels like I'm the only the one who cares about this! So, lemme ask you this– again and again, and again– why are you doing this?"

"Si, you know I'm not doing that on purpose–"

"And I'm supposed to buy that?"

"Well, I didn't ask to be like this, Simon–"

"Well, I also didn't ask to be with someone who's going deaf so fucking quickly. But, life's not always sunshine and rainbow, huh?"

It always hurts to be honest, but a part of Simon of have always wanted to throw those words at you. But, what hurts even more was seeing your face contorted to despair and guilt when he knew you heard him clearly– the only moment he wished you hadn't.

"I'm tired of this."

And with that, Simon slammed the door behind him– leaving you blanketed with the unbearable silence and the wrenching guilt of letting Simon bear with your situation.

—————————☆—————————

a.n. it's my first time writing something...

[orangelala]

ʟᴇᴛ ᴍᴇ ʟᴏᴠᴇ ʏᴏᴜ

chris sturniolo x reader

summary: you both started off as friends, becoming even closer, and now that chris has finally gotten over his commitment issues with the impact you've made on his life he's sure he wants no one else. what happens when the feeling isn't mutual, or is it?

warnings: angst, some fluff? swearing, pet names (love,ma)

a/n: we are locked in on series time. part two will be out soon!

word count: 1.9k words

ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ ꜱᴇʀɪᴇꜱ ᴍᴀᴛᴛ ᴠᴇʀꜱɪᴏɴ

"i've seen the way he looks at you." she ran the brush through my hair. "it's not in a friend way either."

she was wrong, but it didn't stop my pulse from spiking with anticipation. "how does he look at me?"

fiona smiled. "like he never wants to look away."

"what is that supposed to mean?" "it means he loves you, its so obvious. how could you be so blind?" "if you mean in a friend way, then yes, yes he does" fiona sigh turning me around in the chair. "how long have we been friends?" "since kindergarten" "exactly. i know you better than anyone. preferably better than you know yourself. which means i know you feel the same"

fiona smiles once more before turning me around and grabbing the brush to help do my hair now. as if the discussion was over but was she right? was he really looking at me in a special way? did he actually loved me more than a friend?

she finally finishes up my hair and i put on my outfit for the day. as i walk to my car and get in to drive to the triplets house, i couldn't help but think about what she said. "like he never wants to look away" "like he never wants to look away" what the hell did that even mean? as much as i trust my bestfriend, i feel like she could be wrong about this.

as i reach their house, i gather my purse and some other things stepping out and walking up to the house. knocking on the door, im immediately greeted by nick pulling me into a hug. "hey girl, how are you doing?" "im good nick, and you?" "im great, chris is downstairs, by the way" "how are you sure im not here to see you?" i say catching up to him as he walked to the kitchen.

"so you're here to see me?"nick says putting his hand on his hip giving me a confused look. "yes, ive missed you" bringing him into a hug. "well ive missed you too kid" he says hugging me back. "how was your morning?" "it was okay but nick, you wouldn't believe what fiona had said-" "hey kid, why didn't you tell me you were here?" chris says cutting me off.

"well i was talking to nick, im not just bestfriends with you" i say sarcastically stepping back towards nick. "yeah chris, she's best friends with all of us, if she wants to hang with us because she's tired of you, she can" i couldn't help but burst into laughing from nicks comment. making nick chime in, as i catch my breath i look up and notice chris rolling his eyes.

"well if she's not 'too tired of me' i'd like to steal her for a moment, if that's okay with you" he says looking at nick for what looks like an approval. "go ahead. i'll be right here girl if you need me" nick says pointing at me as well walk away. "i'll keep that in mind, thank you bae!"

"you're not really tired of me are you?" he says opening the door to his bedroom. "of course not, nick was just saying to mess with you. i never get tired of you" i say bringing him into a hug. i felt him smile against me as he hugged me back tight.

"chris?" "yes love?" he says pulling away. "i don't want to interfere in your personal business-" "your my bestfriend, you never interfere. i tell you everything" he smiles, as he reassures me as he could tell the uncomfortableness on my face.

"do you like anyone?" i say startling myself, i didn't mean to say it so quickly. i watch chris's facial expression change. "i was with fiona, and fiona had said" "what did she say?" "well she said you looked at me um in a certain way"

i look away towards the door as i try to comprehend what was going on, was i really about to do this right now? i was taken out of my thoughts as chris takes his hand and moves my head to look at him.

"what type of way is that? he smirks. "in a way that uh, you like me?" "and?" "and well chris is it truth?" i say looking down at my hands. "if it is?"

"chris" i whispered. "your my best friend." "i know what i am," he says against my skin. "what would that, what would that even look like?" "what would what look like?" "oh my god chris, us. fuck. you know us" "so you like me back?" "i never said that, i asked a question"

"what would it be like? what would 'us' even look like? i whisper into again him. "i can show you exactly what it would be like."

i felt him fisting the fabric of my shirt, as if he was stopping himself from doing more. then releasing it and placing his palm to my waist.

"if you were really mine, i'd do this all the time." his long fingers draped around my hip and pushed me against him from the waist down. hot. he felt so hot and hard, branding my skin, even with layers of fabric separating us.

"if you were mine, you'd crave this." he then closed the rest of the distance that separated us very slowly. bringing our bodies flush together with such softness and at such a painful pace that i praised and cursed him at the same time. "you would want it."

but wasn't i doing that?

before i could delve into that, chris's large body shifted, and my back was against a hard surface. he looked at me quite intensely as if he was trying to read me. read my facial expressions but my mind went blank, making my whole body go blank. most importantly my heart.

what am i doing? what was i doing was all that was going through my head. he leans into me, running his hand over my cheek before pulling me into him, closing the space between us completely. i wanted to move. i needed to get out of here, but why was i feeling so safe. why did i feel happy under his touch?

chris places his other hand around my waist before fully bringing his face near mine. his lips were just centimeters away from mine. pulling me in with his hand. our lips had barely grazed. "im sorry, but i can't. im sorry" i say pulling away and grabbing my things.

"wait- what? don't go." "im so sorry, chris," i say choked as tears begin to run down my face. he had looked at me in confusion. it was only seconds later to a minute was how quickly i got out of there.

sprinting in the direction of my car as i walk out the house. i sit for a minute to catch my breath before placing the key in the ignition and starting up the car. it felt as if i could hear his voice around me, i could still see that expression. it was killing. the look he gave me. that look that was pastured on his face when i walked out.

i had finally reach my apartment making me sigh in relief. quickly getting out of car and walking up to my apartment, i couldn't get myself to put the key in the door and step in. i wasn't expecting to come home tonight. let alone be alone.

i stand there, placing a hand on the door before taking a deep breath and turning the key to let myself in. i was the one who did it. he didn't walk out on me, i walked out on him but yet why does it hurt so much.

placing my stuff on the table, i walk in the direction of my room. grabbing some fresh clothing. i couldn't be in his clothes anymore, running my fingers along the end of the shirt and almost staring at it as it reminded me of time he gave it to me. i quickly stopped the flashback that was about to occur as quickly pull it over my head and toss it to the side, along with my shorts.

i walk into the connecting bathroom to turn on the shower, stepping away and looking in the mirror to run my fingers over my cheek, where he ran his fingers over and moved down to my waist. running my hand over the spot repeatedly as if i was still trying to feel his touch.

i felt desperate, needy. craving his touch again. but i know getting out of there was something i needed to do to protect myself. why did it have to be from him? i had no idea but now catching myself in train of thought, i turn around and fully strip my underwear and bra and walk in.

i didn't really remember getting out of the shower and laying down. it had been about an hour later, as i have fidgeted through my sheets. tossing and turning but nothing had seemed to work. there was one thing and one thing only that ran through my mind. that almost kiss and him.

my phone screen lit up my dark room, making me roll over and hesitantly grab the phone. there were multiple missed calls and messages from him.

about to play the first message, i exit out the app and throw the phone on the floor. standing up to catch my breath and placing in my room i hear the door. what seemed like a faint knock only for it to be a bit louder. wiping my eyes, i walk out of my room and towards the front door.

"who is it?" i say clearing my throat as i start to unlock and open the door. "yes? how can i help you- chris?" i say in a very hushed tone. "what are you doing here?" "i wanted to see you, why did you leave? was it something i did?"

"chris, you shouldn't be here" "i know but i want to know why you left, did i make you uncomfortable?" i shoved my hands in my pajama pockets as i take a step back making chris step towards me. "chris please" i beg, as i feel everything inside me tear apart.

"just answer my question please and i'll go. i promise, i just need to know" he said in an almost whisper that rang around my head.

my hands stayed in my pockets; his were at his sides. we weren't touching, not really. i had the sudden, sharp memory of the way his fingers had brushed against mine a few hours before. he bent his face down to my shoulder, his breath slipping through three layers of cloth to warm the skin there.

one of his fingers hooked at the strings of my pajamas and inched me just that tiny bit closer. his nose skimmed up my throat, along my cheek, and i saw none of it. i squeezed my eyes shut as his forehead finally came to rest against mine.

"look at me."

"don't do this," i whispered.

"i don't know what's wrong with me," he breathed out. "i feel like, i feel like i'm losing my damn mind, like your face has been carved into my heart, and i don't remember when, and i don't understand why, but the scar is there, and i can't get it to heal. it won't go. i can't make it fade. and you won't even look at me."

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tags: @nicksmainbitch @sturniolossss @sturnlova @its-jennarose @freshsturns @luverboychris @canthelpit0 @ghostlypineappl @sturnzsblog @sluttformatt @urfavstromboli @junnniiieee07 @drpepperworshipper @ksturniolo7 @samandcolbyfan22 @sturncakez @imwetforyourmom @h3arts4harry @patscorner @iluvmattyb @mattslovelygf @blahbel668 @mattscoquette @wh0resstuff @crack240

[radioisodoped]

The sun had just barely come up when you started packing up your things, a couple rays of light streaming into the room and warming your back as you stuff whatever you can manage into your bag. The next settlement is a two-day hike away, but you’ve got plenty of supplies. You’ll manage. Once the spoils of yesterday’s scavenge are safely put away, you make your way to the stairs. The wooden steps creak as you make your way down, idly considering which road out of town would be best.

Stepping down onto the landing, you see his boots first. One leg casually crossed over the other on the dust-covered table. He’s already got his hand cannon pointed right at you, gloved finger steady on the trigger.

“Come chat, sugar. I didn’t come all this way for nothin’.” he drawls, smoke billowing out from under his tipped hat. A bloom of anger grows in your stomach when you see he’s gone through at least half the pack of cigarettes you had stashed away. Half your whiskey too, you knew you were missing something. Bastard. All of that was worth at least a small handful of caps.

You glance to the front door, your barricade still in place. A low whistle interrupts your thoughts.

“Where’s your hospitality? C’mon now, come and say hello.”

He punctuates it by motioning to the table with his gun. Bastard. You walk over, dropping your bag at his feet. Casual house calls aren’t something you associate with him. Before you can ask what he needs, he interrupts you. “Sit down, sweetheart. You’re makin’ me nervous.”

You doubt it. His hand couldn’t be steadier as you pull out a chair for yourself.

You get halfway through asking what he’s doing here before he interrupts again. “I’m still waitin’ on a ‘hello, how are ya’. Where are your manners?”

The games are getting old. You ignore his question and level your best unimpressed look at him.

“Are you here to kill me?”

He huffs out a laugh but doesn’t offer a response. You try not to let it phase you, reaching across his legs to grab the bottle of whiskey before you speak again. “If you are, I’d appreciate a heads up. Maybe even some last words, if you’re feeling particularly generous.”

He laughs again, shaking his head. “You and me both know I ain’t the generous sort. Though, that has nothin’ to do with whether you’ll die today.”

You take a swig from the bottle, watching out of the corner of your eye as he sets his gun down on the table. You’d never let him know it, but you’re a little relieved.

Another swig for courage and his gun out of hand, you feel yourself loosening up. The pretty little .44 holstered on your thigh could take the leg off a brahmin. You flirt with the notion of wrapping your hand around it and shooting him right through the ribs. Oh, you’d die. That’s an absolute certainty. He'd have bits of your head sprayed all over the room before you could get a second shot in. It’d almost be worth it to fuck up his day, though.

You watch him take a drag off of one of your cigarettes and a different thought forces its way to the front. It wouldn’t be the first time you’ve earned your way out of a sticky situation

It won't be the last, either. You'll make sure of it. With death still on the table, you loosen your grip on the bottle and let it hang loosely from your fingers so the rim is just barely brushing over your bottom lip.

He tips his Stetson up and you can finally see his eyes, watch the slow drag of his gaze from your fingers to your mouth. You part your lips just enough that the tip of your tongue can pick up a drop of booze that's settled in the mouth of the bottle.

He smiles, half amused. You'll take it. With a small shake of his head, he speaks again. "I'm not here to kill ya, sweetheart, but I am here on business."

"Color me shocked." you mumble, "And here I thought you just missed my pretty face."

"Why can't it be both?"

You make a noise halfway between a scoff and a laugh, setting down the bottle. "Careful, Casanova. Keep that up and I might start thinking you like me."

Burnt lips split into a sleazy grin, cigarette hanging loosely between his teeth. He leans back in his chair, the wood creaking under his weight. "'Course I like you. Don't you remember when we first met?"

Your face heats. That memory had kept you warm on plenty of lonely nights. You'd guess with the way he's looking at you, he's just as fond of it. A little teasing wouldn't hurt, and you're not in the mood to inflate his ego any more than it already is.

"Which time was that?" you ask, leaning back and pulling your eyebrows together to mock a thoughtful look. "The one where you left me on my knees without returning the favor, or the second time you left without getting me off?"

His smile doesn't drop, but you see a muscle in his burned cheek twitch. You hit a nerve. Good. You haven't forgotten how he neglected all of yours.

"Last time wasn't my fault. You knew better than to get handsy somewhere we might get caught." he drawls, most of the humor gone from his tone. He had a point- that was a mess. And mostly your fault. You still had the scar to remember it. He tilts his head, continuing on. "That first time, though? I didn't owe you shit. Besides, with the way you're still running your mouth... Well, clearly I didn't use it hard enough for you to learn anything. Seems to me you got the better deal out of that bargain."

Not one to be outdone, you stand. His eyes follow your every move, watching as you walk over. He barely has time to drop his boots back onto the ground before you straddle his lap, his spurs clinking as he settles. He's already hard when you grind down against him, steadying yourself by gripping his jacket. He does nothing to help, just leans back and reaches for your leg. You arch your back, welcoming the touch, but he just unbuckles your thigh holster, throwing your .44 on the table beside his own gun.

You roll your eyes, rocking your hips again. "Paranoid old man. If I was going to shoot you, I'd have done it while you were eyefucking me."

He laughs, pulling the cigarette from his mouth and stubbing it out on the table while he responds. "You should've. Would've made me want you even more."

"Do you get this hard for everyone you're going to kill?"

He spreads his thighs beneath you, his hands landing on your hips to keep you flush with his bulge as he readjusts. "'Course not, darling. Just brats like you.”

You’ve never wanted someone inside you more in your life. You ache with it. You reach down to fight with his belt buckle and he snickers. “Slow down and enjoy it, sweetheart. Fuck, you’re the kind of person who’d complain if you were bein’ hung with a gold rope.”

“Yeah, well, at least I know the rope can get the job done.”

You don’t have time to bask in the jab before you're sliding off his lap, surprised to find him suddenly standing. His hand wraps around your throat before he wrestles you down onto the rickety table. The whole thing shakes under your back, threatening to break under the strain of your struggle.

“You got a big fuckin’ mouth on you.” He sneers, leaning down close and narrowing his eyes. “I oughta not let you get off again just to prove a point.”

“All that would do is prove me right. You aren’t good for shit outside of killing-“

The slap shocks you. You’re suddenly looking at the wall, the taste of blood coating your tongue. A beat. Then another. You wrap your legs around his hips, pulling him close until his cock is pressed right up against where you need him. He laughs under his breath, shaking his head in disbelief. “You crazy, insatiable bitch.”

He pulls his hand back, unbuckling his belt with a practiced motion that stokes the fire in your stomach. He slips his cock out unceremoniously, glove dragging over ridged skin. “You better be ready, sweetheart. I ain’t wastin’ any more time gettin’ you worked up. I told you I didn’t come for fun.”

Clothes are ripped and forced out of the way, his cock head pressing against your hole. He finally pushes in and you bite your lip, throwing your head back to stare at the stained ceiling as you moan out. “Yeah, but you’ll come for me, right?”

He hums, grabbing at your hips to pull you the rest of the way down his cock. “I always do.”

You choke on a moan, nails digging into the wood beneath you when he bottoms out. The whole table rocks as he thrusts into you, slow at first but gaining momentum quickly. This house was one of the safer places to be, but he wouldn’t afford you the luxury of a gentle fuck.

You know he could, if he wanted to. The grip on your hips isn’t painful, despite the punishing pace he’s set. There's something soft, reverent, in the way his hands drift over your clothes. Not like the way he touched you every other time you've had the privilege of his hands on you.

You're starting to think he really does like you.

The revelation unsettles you a bit. Not in a bad way, necessarily. You just didn't think he was capable of it. You watch the muscles in his neck tense as he holds back noises. You've bitten your lip raw for the same reason.

It's been a while for you. You'd had people since him, sure... but it wasn't the same. Never as satisfying as this. Maybe it's wishful thinking, but you think he might agree. He grunts and leans on one arm beside your head, chasing his own release. You want to make some smart quip, reminding him to slow down and enjoy it, sweetheart, but you think better of it. Your jaw still aches from the slap.

It's not long before he's unloading inside you with a groan, his eyes fluttering shut as his hips twitch against you. An unnatural heat reminds you to look for some radaway once he's gone, but you're distracted by his hand slipping between your bodies. Embarrassingly, it doesn't take much. Rusty or not, he knows how to use his fingers. The fabric of his glove drags along just right and you keen, back arching as you come around his cock.

He lets you ride the high, only pulling away when you go limp and start to pant. He pulls out, leaving you looking like a mess as he readjusts himself. He could still kill you. He might, honestly. You couldn't give less of a fuck if you tried. He holsters his gun as your eyes shut, enjoying the afterglow. Of course, he doesn't let you rest long.

“That was an awful nice treat, but we got things to do. Up and at ‘em, darlin'." He slaps the side of your thigh with a smile, jolting you out of your reverie. "We’re goin’ on a field trip.”

[toushindai]

Ganondorf is the only sage whose physical appearance changes so dramatically by the use of his secret stone—and not immediately upon gaining it, it appears to be a deliberate use of power—which is interesting. What interests me even more though is the way in which his Demon King appearance takes on subtly more Zonai-like aspects. Specifically his fingernails and toenails grow to points, like we see on Rauru and Mineru (and Link), and his hair goes from half-bound in a topknot to loose and flowing, which I take for a cultural norm among the Zonai given Rauru’s long and barely contained locks and the fact that most (all?) of the clothes we get that originate with the Zonai (the dragon sets, the zonaite set, the archaic set (though we could debate whether that set is “Zonai” or specifically “founding-era Hyrulean” and pick apart which cultural signifiers are which in a post that’s not about Ganondorf), the glide set) feature Link with his hair down.

I’m walking a delicate and nearly contradictory tightrope here because I feel that the heavy Japanese-inspired elements of Ganondorf’s design and his weaponry are a reflection of his sense of alienation from his own Gerudo culture with its more fantasy-Middle-Eastern vibes, BUT it is not to be denied that there are Gerudo elements to what he wears—the gold of his jewelry, the Gerudo emblem on the underside of his robe and in the jewelry on his shoulder. And his hair, I think, combines both that Japanese vibe with the Gerudo look. He keeps his gold jewelry after his Demon King transformation—and this is an interesting contrast with the ancient sages who bedeck themselves in anonymizing zonaite masks even before becoming sages, hey game designers talk me through that choice please—but it’s elements of his own body that he changes to reflect grooming choices of the Zonai.

And I am just thinking about what he feels, exactly, about the Zonai. He scorns the fact that they are regarded as gods, but does not debate—and in fact openly states—that their power is godlike. He is covetous of it, to the extent that he perceives it as being lorded over him, which I don’t honestly feel is an accurate assessment of Rauru et al.’s attitude.

There’s something that makes me sad here. I think that Ganondorf believes, down to the depths of his soul, that not only the right to rule but personal worth is won by being powerful, by being the MOST powerful. And so Rauru’s kingdom, formed through friendship and goodwill, is illegitimate and a sign of weak minds and also how dare the Zonai come in and take over by vibes rather than by force and why won’t they meet him on the field of battle where he can prove himself. While at the same time, his own position in Gerudo society is not earned in the way that reflects his own personal values. What I guess I’m talking around is, I think there’s a part of Ganondorf that wants to be Zonai so that he can be better at using the power the Zonai have than the Zonai are. While also loathing them. While also bitter about the fact that he missed his chance to prove himself against their whole society. Part of him thinks if I were Zonai, I would have what I wanted. And when he gets what he wants, he makes himself just that little more like a Zonai.

[lovequartz]

to feel the same.

❁ pairing: town doctor!wonwoo x fiancee!reader

❁ genre: fluff

❁ warnings: mention of blood + injury

❁ word count: 1.3k

❁ winter passed and spring came, you're a flower with green leaves and raindrops

❁ notes: this is dedicated to the lovely @jenowithjaem who gave me the inspo behind this piece, thank you <3

you are fixing your hair when you hear your mother call your name. her voice traveling from the front of the house through the open door of your bedroom. you quickly pin a few front pieces and smooth your skirt down before hurrying off to your mother’s side.

she’s standing with the entry door open, and beams when she sees you, “wonwoo is here!” she practically giggles.

in the time wonwoo has been taking to court you, he's been coming by your house more and more often lately. the two of you have been taking walks in the early evening, which was the reason you were fixing yourself earlier. 

“you don’t have to announce his presence every time,” you whine softly as you grab her arm. turning to peek out the door, you smile as wonwoo’s eyes meet yours. he looks handsome as always, but today his glasses are tucked into the breast pocket of his lovely navy blue shirt. 

“good evening,” he says, grinning when he hears you return his greeting in a much more quiet tone, “are you ready? or should i wait a bit longer?” 

you give him an apologetic look, “give me just one minute? i’ll grab my shoes.”

he nods in understanding before you mother gets his attention once more.

“are you sure you don’t want to come in? you know our home is your home after all,” you hear your mother say as you scurry off to find your footwear.

a little later you and wonwoo wave to your mother as she slides the door shut, your arm tucked safely into the crook of his elbow as the two of you make your way down the road. the temperature is lovely and there’s a warm breeze rustling through the trees and their leaves. you wonder if someone like you is allowed to feel this giddy, to be able to bask in the sun’s glow and wonwoo’s simple presence beside you. 

soon all your strolling takes the two of you to the small creek nestled just behind the persimmon orchard, the current a touch fast due to the heavy rain last night. wonwoo grips your hand in his as the two of you meander down the creekbank. a quick movement catches your eye and you spot a small frog near the water’s edge. you gasp before pointing it out to the man next to you.

“wonwoo look! it's a frog,” you say, letting go of his hand to see if you can catch the small friend. it does a tentative hop but surprisingly allows you to scoop it up into your hand, your palm underneath it. 

its little head peeks out from under the arch of your thumb, and you cradle it gently before lifting it to your beau’s eye level. 

wonwoo has a small smile on his face as he brings his own hands to hover just under yours, in case the frog decides to make a leap for it. “indeed it is.”

the two of you coddle the small creature for a few moments more before you eventually set him back on the ground. your hands are muddy so you swish them around in the water of the creek before brushing away an itch at your cheek and standing. 

when you turn to wonwoo he has a look in his eye you can’t quite place, and a smirk tugging at his lips. 

confusion paints your features as you say; “what?”

the man chuckles lightly before stepping closer to you and rubbing his thumb across your cheek, the finger brushing the very bottom of your scar. “i think you managed to get some dirt on your face while you were cleaning your hands.” 

a small twinge of embarrassment flushes through you but you can only continue to stare at wonwoo and mumble a small “oh.”

he hums, looking rather pleased as he continues to touch your face. thumb gently running the line of your scar. part of you wants to flinch away but the other part of you wants to indulge in wonwoo’s attention and affections. so stay still you do.

“you never told me,” his soft voice breaks the silence between the two of you, “how you got it.”

you breathe out a sigh, fingers coming up to curl around the hand that touches your face. “let’s keep walking, i’ll tell you as we do.”

winter age 8 

the winter’s chill bites at your bare fingers, not as cold as it was the previous day but still brisk. your sister had run up ahead of you, her boot marks disturbing the freshly fallen snow as she traverses through the neat rows of persimmon trees. your parents had allowed both of you to meander around outside until dinner was ready, your mother had just begun feeding the stove wood when you’d left. so you and your sister decided that it would be the perfect time to play with the kite your uncle had gifted the two of you a few weeks ago.

“not so far!” you shout to your sister as she continues to trek forward, the kite still sailing high in the wind above your heads. 

“it keeps falling!” she shouts back, “i’m trying to get it to stay up!” 

as her pace slows the both of you watch the kite circle around from a particularly strong gust before it starts descending quickly. 

“see, it's coming down!” the frustration is clear in her voice. 

eventually, the kite lands between the branches of one of the persimmon trees, and your sister tries tugging it free to no avail. 

“you’re gonna rip it! one of us is gonna have to climb to get it,” you say when you finally catch up to her. 

“its gonna have to be you,” she says immediately.

you turn to look at her, protests already ready on your tongue. 

“i’m wearing my new skirt, mother will have my HEAD if i tear it. besides, you’re wearing trousers and you’re smaller so it’ll be easier for you to get up there.” she says before you can get a word in edgewise. 

you sigh heavily, accepting your already decided fate, “fine.”

it doesn’t take you long before you’re able to reach the branches where the kite is wedged. however, due to their height you have to stand up on the branch you’re perched on. carefully, you make your way to your feet, heart pounding as you reach above you. your fingers brush against the fabric of the kite’s side and you lift just a bit onto your toes for a little extra reach. the next thing you know you feel your left foot slip, and all you can hear is your own scream followed by your sister’s.

a dull pain starts to radiate from your back, and you realize you’re on the ground. the left side of your face feels cold, and you wipe at it, thinking you must have snow stuck there from the fall, but when you pull your hand away it is covered in blood. you stare at it blankly before your eyes meet your sister’s who stands over you unmoving, a look of pure horror twisting her features. 

her face is the last thing you remember before everything went black. 

“she said she thought i died,” you say with a chuckle, “she ran screaming to get my parents, and everyone was pretty shook up before they were told i was going to be fine.” your fingers brush against the skin of your cheek.

“i got treated like a princess for the whole week after. my sister was beside herself with guilt, but she knows it wasn’t really her fault. it was a series of unfortunate accidents that ended with my face being the poor victim of a sharp branch.” 

wonwoo looks pensive, his fingers squeezing yours. “poor girl, it must’ve hurt at the time.” 

you immediately feel flustered at his words, stunned into silence as the two of you look at each other. 

“well, just a bit,” you reply, “it was worse when it was healing, it took everything in little eight year old me not to pick at the scab.”

wonwoo hums, lifting the hand in his to press his lips against the back of it. 

“thank you for sharing with me, i’m happy i get to know more about you.” 

❁ notes: thank you always for reading! all these recent works from me have been an honor to write so thank you once again love u all

[scoonsalicious]

Unwanted: Chapter 23, Undressed - Pt. 4

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Fem!Reader

Summary: When your FWB relationship with your best friend Bucky Barnes turns into something more, you couldn’t be happier. That is, however, until a new Avenger sets her sights on your super soldier and he inadvertently breaks your heart. You take on a mission you might not be prepared for to put some distance between the two of you and open yourself up to past traumas. Too bad the only one who can help you heal is the one person you can no longer trust.

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, alcohol consumption, bad decisions.

Word Count: 291

Previously On...: Sam was on the phone with Bucky when you got back to the safehouse. Just hearing his voice (and Cunthrage's, for good measure) was too much and you needed to get out.

A/N: I'm sorry these parts are so short, but that's why you're getting three in a row! Just remember-- the faster I post, the faster it's over!

NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when new story parts drop, please follow @scoonsaliciousupdates

Banner By: The absolutely amazing @mrsbuckybarnes1917!

Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!

Taglist: (Sadly, tag list is closed; Tumblr will not let me add anyone new. If you want to be notified when I update, please Follow me for Notifications!) @jmeelee @cazellen @mrsbuckybarnes1917 @blackhawkfanatic @buckybarnessimpp @hayjat @capswife @itsteambarnes @marygoddessofmischief @sebastians-love @learisa @lethallyprotected @rabbitrabbit12321 @buckybarnesandmarvel @fanfictiongirl77 @calwitch @fantasyfootballchampion @selella @jackiehollanderr @wintercrows @sashaisready @missvelvetsstuff @angelbabyyy99 @keylimebeag @maybefoxysouls @vicmc624 @j23r23 @wintercrows @crist1216 @cjand10 @pattiemac1@les-sel @dottirose @winterslove1917 @harperkenobi @ivet4 @casey1-2007 @mrsevans90 @steeph-aniie @bean-bean2000 @beanbagbitch @peachiestevie @wintrsoldrluvr @shadowzena43

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You were nursing your fourth Malibu and pineapple, more than a little drunk. The beachside bar was loud, a touristy spot, and if you weren’t halfway to plastered, you’d probably find its faux-tropical theme charming. Your brief quasi-interaction with Bucky was leaving you feeling restless and reckless, and you felt the urge to make some bad decisions.

“What’s a pretty girl like you doing in a bar all alone?” asked Bad Decision as he walked over to you. You looked him over. He was attractive, in a generic All-American kind of way, with shaggy brown hair and blue eyes. Not the crisp ocean blue that haunted your dreams, but close enough that you pretend in your inebriated state.

“I’m sorry,” Bad Decision said after you’d been silent for a moment too long. “It’s a horrible pick up line. Could you, maybe, pretend to write your number down on a napkin so my friends” he pointed behind his shoulder to a table “don’t roast me for failing miserably?”

You looked behind him to see a group of guys watching the interaction with intense interest.

“How old are you?” you asked him.

“Twenty one,” he said proudly, as though surviving this long was an accomplishment. “My buddies and I are here on break from UOhio.”

You raised an eyebrow. “I’m from Dayton,” you told him.

“No shit!” he said, and he was overly delighted, like a chocolate labrador waiting for a ball to be thrown. “Small world, huh?”

“Sure,” you said, scrutinizing his physique. He was muscular, but not in the way you wanted. But he would do. “Tell me, UOhio,” you began, throwing back the rest of your drink, “do you want my fake number, or do you want a quick fuck?”

<- Previous Part / Next Part ->

[wttcsms]

repeat offender, hiromi higuruma.

pairing hiromi higuruma x f!reader  word count 1.9k  synopsis vignettes of hiromi higuruma's life, featuring his inevitable early-onset mid-life crisis, his disillusionment with the justice system, and how he can't seem to shake you off. content contains law partner's daughter!reader, no curses au, corporate/big law lawyer!hiromi, bratty, always trying to get a reaction out of him reader x just trying to survive the day hiromi, slight age gap (hiromi is 26, reader is 20), eventual smut in later parts, sfw but suggestiveauthor's notes something a bit different; just wanted to test out diff narrative formats lol (and also, this was the closest thing in my gdocs to being finished & i feel guilty for not giving y'all new content)

all the wrong dialogue options were chosen here

Despite the ceiling clearance being so high that it’s enough to make a man of his stature feel small and the fact that despite all the warm bodies in this banquet hall right now, it would still be more of a challenge to bump into someone rather than avoiding them; despite the fact that the air conditioning system must be working overtime since he hasn’t felt the need to shrug off his tuxedo jacket once, despite the fact that he’s free to leave at any time he wants since he’s already gone through the obligatory introductions and the empty pleasantries—

—despite it all, Hiromi Higuruma feels trapped. The walls are slowly closing in on him, and someone from across the massive room is laughing a bit too loudly, and the ceiling, with its intricate crown molding, feels like it’s going to collapse onto him at any second. 

That’s the problem when you decide to be someone you’re not. He’s constantly on his toes, always having to look behind him, always trying to make sure his mask isn’t going to slip. Fresh out of law school. Top marks, top of his class, actually. As expected, as always. 

Hiromi is used to setting the curve, so it doesn’t take him long to learn how these circles operate. Laugh at the right jokes, order the right drink, find the right people to praise, the right suit to wear — he’s good at figuring out the right answers to everything. 

“The party’s never going to end, so if you feel like leaving, you might as well just go now.” 

Hiromi turns to face the source of that sentence, only to have to glance downwards, taking in the sight of you. Glossy lips, long lashes, slinky gold gown clinging to the curves of your body. He swallows. Hard. 

You smile. Sweetly. 

“Before you go, though, you mind getting me a drink from the bar?” You point to the bar that’s across the room, the area Hiromi just left, one old-fashioned in his hand. 

The first wrong thing Hiromi says is, “It’s an open bar.” 

Your shining smile barely falters, but he catches the subtle curve of a frown almost taking shape. 

“Do you really think I could fight off that crowd?” You give him a faux pout, one that only emphasizes the pretty shape of your lips. 

Looking like that, he thinks you wouldn’t need to fight the crowd to get the bartender’s attention. Everyone would probably be clamoring for yours, actually. He doesn’t tell you this, though. Instead, he says, “Like you said, I might as well just go now.” 

Boo. This stranger is no fun. What a waste of good looks, you think to yourself. Taking in the way his body fills out his suit, the tall bridge of his nose, the sharpness of his features — maybe it’s for the best that he’s no fun. You’re not sure how you would be able to keep your cool if he actually was interesting. 

“Don’t just paraphrase. I remember saying that after telling you you should do that if you feel like leaving.” 

He wonders what you’re doing here, at one of the biggest charity galas sponsored by the big law firm he’s going to be joining shortly after his graduation. There’s no way you’re a law student; only a select few final year students were invited in the first place. He can’t fathom you being someone’s plus-one; looking like that, he certainly wouldn’t be able to let you out of his grasp. 

He doesn’t ask you anything, though. He doesn’t compliment you, or say anything that’s on his mind. Instead, he hands his half-empty glass to one of the catering employees walking by that’s collecting dirty glasses, and he tells you, “I’ll be heading out now. Good luck with the bar.” 

It certainly wasn’t the right thing to say, but being a genius comes with some pressure. He figures he’s allowed to give out a few incorrect answers every once in a while.

apex predator 

The click-clack of your four-inch heels making impact against the tiled floors of your father’s law firm serves as a signal to everyone that they need to seek immediate shelter (read: cower in the nearest coworker’s office) and try not to make direct eye contact with you. 

When the boss’s daughter comes to visit, everyone’s on edge. 

Everyone except the new hire. 

Hiromi Higuruma is by no means slow on the uptake, but he’s clocking in the most billable hours out of everyone. Very rarely does he get a chance to take a break, and he doesn’t plan on wasting what few precious minutes of a break he can get on hiding from some brat whose single defining characteristic is sharing the same last name that’s plastered on this skyscraper of a building.

When he passes you by in the hallway, you catch a glimpse of him from the corner of your eye. Broad shoulders, slim waist, and a familiar slope of a nose bridge you’ve seen before. You almost falter in your footsteps — almost. 

bucket list idea: fuck in an elevator

There’s something intimate about being in the same elevator as someone else.

When there’s a handful of people, it’s casual. Simple. Someone who forgot deodorant, someone who’s running late for work, someone who just burnt their tongue trying to drink their coffee too fast. All of it is mundane. 

Being in an elevator where it’s just you and him — you haven’t decided yet if it’s a gift or a punishment. 

“My father loves the work you’ve been doing,” You’re the first one to break the silence. You can only hope that he’ll be the first one to break the distance between you two: a respectful four feet apart. 

Hiromi clears his throat, straightens his tie. He’s staring straight ahead, right at the shiny silver of the stainless steel doors. “Thank you.” 

“Don’t thank me. I’m not the one who said anything about your work.” 

The corners of his mouth almost turn up at that. He fights the urge to smile. 

“Then thanks for the honesty.” 

“Do you like that?” You ask him. 

“Like what?”

“Honesty?” You ask it innocently enough, but when you give him those eyes, and make your lips form that pout, everything comes out sounding sultry. He’s convinced you could be reading his most recent M&A deal out loud to him and make it sound like you’re reading an erotic romance. 

“Well, I’m a lawyer.” He finds that he has to bite back his smile when he’s around you. He stares at the slowly changing numbers on the screen. The two of you entered from the parking garage, and the elevator’s making its steady ascent to the thirtieth floor. 

“So that’s a no.” You muse.

Hiromi makes no comment.

whatever pays the bills, i guess

Hiromi Higuruma, unlike every other undergrad trying to get into law school, does not take… creative liberties when it comes to his personal statement on why he wants to become a lawyer. Potential medical school students lie and say they want to “save lives” because “living with six-figure student loan debt for the first decade out of school and then making crazy bank afterwards seems like a good trade-off” just doesn’t sound very awe-inspiring, does it? 

In another life, he thinks he’s probably a defense attorney. Representing the Little Guy. Keeping alive his desire to uphold the principles of justice and that the wrongfully accused receive fair representation. Even with the odds stacked against his client, he’s certain that he’s good enough to win their case.

However, the world is unfair. Doing the good thing rarely pays off. Being a good person doesn’t get you very far, either. One of his former classmates was such a bright, kind girl. Passionate statement of purpose, too. She applied to all the same law programs as Hiromi and got accepted to exactly zero of them. 

Hiromi got into every single one, and his statement of purpose was honest, straight to the point, and damn-near clinically cold.

I need a competitive environment that takes pride in its intellectual rigor, but I have no desire to pursue medical school just to spend a decade in college and residency. Law school seems most appropriate for my needs.

who hired the intern?

Hiromi doesn’t know what you do around the firm, just that you’re constantly here. 

Even when you’re not physically present, he still finds traces of you lingering everywhere. The scent of your perfume that sticks to the elevator’s walls, your now-empty medium sized iced matcha latte in the trashcan of the breakroom, whispers of your names when his colleagues are in the mood to gossip, the click-clack of your heels that he can hear from inside his office even though his door is closed.

He can’t tell if you’re just inescapable or if he’s constantly subconsciously seeking you out. He doesn’t want to know the answer.

What he does want to know the answer to is why you’re sitting on top of his desk at seven in the morning, your medium sized iced matcha latte in all its green glory (this is the first time he’s seen it full and not as an empty plastic cup in the trash). You’re wearing a fitted white button down with a gray wool skirt that will have the HR manager doing a wide-eyed double-take when you walk past her. Your legs are crossed, and Hiromi scolds himself for noticing. 

He focuses on your face instead, upset to see that you’re still doing that unfair move of yours — that pout, those eyes. 

“What are you doing in here?” Hiromi manages to get the words unstuck from his throat. He’s not even sure how you got the keys to his office, and then he remembers who your father is. 

You smile brightly. 

“My dad says I need some ‘resume-boosting’ activities, and how convenient is it that the firm is looking for an off-cycle intern?” 

How convenient, indeed.

“Still doesn’t explain why you’re sitting on top of my desk.” During your chirpy exclamation, Hiromi manages to pull himself together. He’s getting a few steps closer to you. He’s not going to sit behind his desk, not yet, but his approach only serves to bring you two into closer proximity. If you stretch your legs, the pointy tips of your stilettos will brush against the fabric of his trousers. 

“Well, every intern at the firm is apparently assigned a lawyer to work under. Y’know, to be a mentor.” 

He can’t decide if he likes or detests where this is going.

“And,” you continue. “Dad only wants the best for me. It’d be, like, kind of suspicious to be working directly alongside my father, though.” Yes, Hiromi muses. Because getting a law internship at one of the most prestigious firms during your undergrad is certainly not suspicious at all. “So, the next best thing would be the so-called prodigal lawyer that everyone can’t stop praising. How convenient is it that you’re able to watch over an intern for the semester?”

“Very convenient.” Hiromi raises an eyebrow. “Are you going to get off my desk now? I can’t imagine you’ll be able to learn much if your back is going to be facing me when I’m sitting at my desk.” 

“Whatever you say, sir.” You hop off the desk, gently tugging your skirt down in place. He keeps his eyes focused on your face the whole time.

[dutchdread]

Hi Dutch. Since you have answered many questions about Cloti, what is your thought about Zerith in Rebirth? I saw many people disappointed or having no hope for them but others said the devs are creating angst. Do you agree?

Hi, thanks for the question. Yeah, I understand being disappointed with the Zerith content in Rebirth. The developers spent a lot of time hyping up Zacks importance, not just with Remake but also with developer interviews and such. To have such a build-up and then have him relegated to just a few playable intermissions, to not get a Zack Aerith reunion, and depending on who you listen to to have him being brushed aside in favor of Cloud in regards to Aeriths affections, can understandably feel disheartening.

But really this is just a lack of understanding concerning story structure, to put it simply, Rebirth is EXTREMELY Zerith.

When reading Harry Potter I always knew that Snape was most likely going to end up a good guy, despite the seeming back and forths. And do you know which moment to me proved that he was a good guy? When he killed Dumbledore at the end of book 6. I knew then without a doubt that he was a good guy, because there was still one book to go, and it was obvious that that book would have the final ultimate reversal.

Rebirth didn't have a lot of Zerith pay-off, but if anything that's a good thing. If it did I would be worried about what would happen in part 3 to flip that pay-off on its head. Instead Zerith has gotten a lot of build-up that is now screaming to receive pay-off in part 3.

We have shots of Zack desperately trying to come back to Aerith. We have Aerith admitting she still has feelings for Zack. We have Aerith desperately trying to recreate her time with Zack. We have Tifa and Aerith talking about Zack. We have Aerith sensing Zacks touch in the cave of the GI. We have Aerith singing songs about meeting again. We have Aerith admitting to seeing Zack again in Cloud. We have Aerith instantly going to Zacks parents. We have Cloud talking about how Zack is head over heels for Aerith. We have Zack in Nibelheim talking to Cloud about their respective girlfriends

And the question you need to ask for all these things is "why?" Why would they include all these scenes if it's not getting a pay-off? Why show scenes of Aerith trying and failing to recreate her days with Zack interspersed with scenes of Zack trying to get back to her if that ultimately isn't of importance? Why show Zack positively contrasted with a negatively presented Cloud if the message you're trying to convey is that Zack has been replaced? Why show Zack to be an amazing guy if you want to end his arc with people being ok with him being rejected? Why make a themesong with the desire for meeting again at its core and have Zacks entire story in the game being about trying to reunite with Aerith if the point of that reunion is heartbreak?

The answer is that a writer wouldn't do those things, they make no sense. If you want your love story to feel positive then you need to disassemble the alternatives first. You need to show how the other pairings don't work, minimize their importance, or in some other way make it clear to the audience that the "main couple" coming together is the desirable outcome.

If you want to show that Aerith is getting over Zack you don't spend your limited screentime showing Aerith pining over Zack, you instead show how she's no longer occupying his mind as much. If you want to show Aerith getting over Zack you don't have her talking about still loving him, you instead have her talking about how she DID once, but that that was a long time ago. You don't end her arc with a date that remind the viewer of the existence of Zack, but one that is fully between Cloud and Aerith. If you want to show the compatibility of Cloud and Aerith then you don't make it so that everything goes wrong, you make it so that the dream date goes "DREAMY"!. And if you want to sell the idea that Aerith is over Zack and has come to the conclusion that she truly romantically loves Cloud then you DON'T place that confession right after said horrible date, with Zack scenes left right and center, a Cloud thats talking about you being "nakama", and Aerith dialogue that at best says she's not sure about what she feels, and at worst is a straight up friendzoning. If you want to replace a very positively portrayed romance then you will need the end all be all of chemistry and certainty in the new one, and talks about "well, I like you, but there is liking and then there's liking" is NOT a recipe for that.

In short, if you want to sell the idea that Cloud has truly replaced Zack in Aeriths heart and more importantly IN THE NARRATIVE, then you don't put emphasis on the existence of Aeriths feelings for Zack, and you don't put emphasis on Zacks feelings for Aerith. Those things all serve to maximize the connection between Aerith and Zack when what you need to do if you want to sell Clerith is minimize it. The reason being that this romance is in narrative conflict with the supposed Aerith Cloud romance, and the stronger the Aerith Zack connection is presented, the more extravagant the bond between Cloud and Aerith needs to be written for the story to make sense.

And that won't happen when you have Cloud deriding Aerith for the way she tries turning everything into a date the one moment, and then a scene showing Zack taking care of Aerith while in a coma the next. It doesn't happen when you show a scene of Cloud bonding with Tifa in one scene and almost kissing her, and then show Zack bonding with Aeriths mother in the next. It doesn't happen when you show Aerith failing to recreate her date with Zack and asking Cloud to find her in "her place", and then show Zack waiting for Aerith in "her place" the next.

All these things signal the same thing "Zack good for Aerith, Cloud bad".

You can extrapolate this idea beyond Rebirth of course. If Zack and Aerith isn't getting a pay-off what is the point of re-releasing Crisis Core before Rebirth? If the point is to show that Zack is no longer in the picture what is the point of showing off an entire game all about how important he and Aerith are to each other and about how desperate he is to get back to her? What is the point of showing that the bow Aerith is always wearing was gift from him. What is the point of her always wearing the clothes that she said she'd wear in anticipation of seeing him again. What is the point in bringing up the fact that she wrote Zack 89 letters and has been waiting for him for 5 years if Zack is replaceable in 2 weeks? What is the point of writing that Aeriths one wish is to spend more time with Zack if her literally spending time with a Zack stand-in isn't relevant? What is the point of writing it that Aerith didn't just see Zack in Cloud because they're similar...but because he's LITERALLY putting on a fake persona based on Zack, if Zacks presence in Clouds persona is irrelevant to Aeriths feelings regarding him?

If you want us to believe that Aerith likes Cloud for Cloud then these are all very questionable writing choices, especially when you also keep harping on about her wanting to get to know the real Cloud, which implies that she doesn't know him YET. It's not that you can't still have it so that Aerith does actually prefer Cloud despite all this, but if that's the case then you've failed as a writer because this would be VERY incoherent storytelling. If the writers want you to believe that Aerith has moved on from Zack, then they shouldn't and wouldn't have spend so much time showing Aerith not having moved on from Zack. Ultimately the question is one of focus, a story about Aerith falling in love with Cloud, and a story about moving on from Zack might look superficially similar, and entail the same basic events. But the difference is the focus. Is that focus on Cloud and what he means to Aerith? Or is the focus on Zack? In rebirth there is a heavy focus, not on the developing bond between Cloud and Aerith, those are limited almost exclusively to Tifa, but there is a heavy focus on Aeriths feelings in regards to Zack. There is no storytelling purpose to Aerith telling Cloud she still loves Zack 3/4ths of the way through her story if the focus of the story isn't Aeriths feelings for Zack, but her feelings for Cloud. If the writers wanted you to think Zack doesn't matter they wouldn't spend so much time hammering in the idea that Zack matters. These moments are all in service to Aerith and Zack, not Aerith and Cloud.

Even things like Zack discovering that Aerith has started developing feelings for Cloud only makes sense to include if the pay-off for that is them reuniting and him showing Aerith what love really is. So if we saw in Rebirth wasn't a "lack of Zerith", then what DID we see? Well, to reiterate what I said earlier:

If you want your love story to feel positive then you need to disassemble the alternatives first.

This is what we saw in Rebirth, Cloud and Aerith being disassembled, so that part 3 can get us to the pay-off. We see Cloud and Aerith bonding, yes, but it's ALWAYS contrasted with Tifa and Zack. If we have a scene where Aerith tries to engage Cloud in talks concerning food he will be shown to engage with the same discouraging passivity of the average woman on tinder, then that scene will invariably be followed by a similar scene with Tifa where he is enthusiastically trying to keep the conversation flowing. If we see a scene where Aerith is trying to get a certain energy from Cloud and failing, it won't be long till we see a scene of Zack having that same desired energy naturally.

In short, Rebirth was filled with scenes that "serve a purpose in the overall narrative". But the only way those scenes WOULD serve a purpose in the overall narrative, is if the overall narrative is: "Aerith is trying to get over Zack and is trying to move on through Cloud. But by doing so she discovers that it's just not the same. While Cloud helps Aerith move on and accept the past, he can never replace Zack". If the overall narrative is: "Aerith used to be pining over Zack, but now she has truly replaced Zack in her heart with Cloud and Zack is a relic of the past" then none of these scenes would make sense to include. You can also look at it like this, why didn't Rebirth have a Zerith Reunion scene? Because apparently that's too important of a scene to quickly tack on to the end of part 2. Nomura has already hinted at something very important to include in part 3 that wasn't in part 2, something that he thinks will make people very happy if done right. And I am pretty freaking confident that what he's talking about is the long-awaited Aerith - Zack reunion. And that is why this game is extremely favorable to Zerith, so be excited for part 3.

[tw1l1te]

Reader who's a fairy like maleficent who has massive wings and horns. Maybe they have some magical abilities too? Wind totally expects to go for a fly. Sky is reminded of home in a sense because loft wings? Four pretending he totally doesn't LOVE being cocooned in their wings for cuddles. Just a random fluttering thought of mine and I'd love to see a quick write up of the chains different reactions!

I think all of them would be curious about you, in one form or another.

Hyrule, which I headcanon as a fae, would be almost instantly connected with you because of your fae roots. He fawns over your wings at least twice a day, but you don't mind at all! Definitely gives you sugar water as a treat <3

Wars is a bitttt nervous, not because he thinks you'll hurt him, but more so about the horns and reminding him of Volga. He thought you were a Great Fairy for a hot minute, so he took a bit to come around, but definitely huddles under your wings when its down pouring.

Time is also quite fascinated, its as if the tiny fairies from his era were much larger and humanoid. He definitely fell asleep against you once and used your wings as a giant blanket.

Twilight is one of the most enamored with you. Being part animal, he feels less alone in his differences from the rest of his brothers and the world. Loves looking up at the night sky while you fly up there, showing off for him just a little ;)

Four is in shock. You're so tall compared to him!! Your wings alone are almost twice the size of him. Absolutely loves sitting on your back while you fly around, he could stay up there for hours but he doesn't want to tire you out too much. Likes tying lil' scraps of fabric or ribbons onto your horns for "decoration".

Sky is also very enamored with you, I mean, he's from the sky. Also loves when you pick him up to fly around for a bit when he's feeling homesick. He always feels better after an hour or so of just flying around Hyrule. If you have feathered wings that "shed" occasionally, he'll make you jewelry to wear with your feathers and one for himself at for a later time if you understand where I'm going with this

Legend initially is freaked out. You intimidate him because of your huge wing span and horns, but suprised by how opposite your personaility is to your initimidating appearance. He thinks flying is cool and all, but he refuses to let his feet off of the ground. Loves petting your wings though, they're so soft.

Wild tries to ride you first time you all meet, consequently causing Twilight to keep him in place so he doesn't piss you off. He's ecstatic once you're comfortable enough with all of them to let him ride on you. He will know how to cook all of your favorite foods, saying "you need energy to fly me around after dinner".

Wind? He thinks you're the coolest being to ever exist. Point blank. You're his favorite, even though you're not one of his brothers. Will almost always fall asleep while being under your wing, especially by the fire and your wing warming him up. Also likes putting twigs and branches in your hair, claiming to be making you a crown, but it just seems like a pile of sticks he's trying

[mt-oe]

𝙎𝙝𝙚'𝙨 𝙆𝙞𝙣𝙙𝙖 𝙃𝙤𝙩—bandmate mizu

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

Hey dears!

I'm so so sorry for not being able to keep up with requests that well. My program is taking a lot of my time and beating the shit out of me (esp. u immunology and serology >:c).

Anyways, here's a sort of prequel for my headcanons because band au Mizu is so yummy.

Enjoy! Mwa mwa:*

warning: not proofread, she/her for mizu, will refer to her as a boy (bc she canonically appears like a man), implied afab reader

"But you're so good at playing the guitar, and you have the charisma too. You should definitely join our band. Even our manager is amazing. She—"

"For the last time, Ringo. I don't want to join your stupid band."

Mizu and Ringo were already getting ready to go home after finishing their term-end project for their elective, which just so happened to be music. She didn't really think it through when she enlisted and just picked whichever she thought was the easiest. Ringo, however, just picked the same elective as Mizu.

She carefully placed her electric guitar in its case, zipping it up and securing the locks before slinging it over her shoulder. "I have better things to do and joining a band is a waste of time," she added as she walked up to the door.

Ringo followed after her, a smile still on his face despite the rejection. "You never know. This might even be your calling," he chimed as they exited the room, making her groan out of annoyance. They headed into the parking lot where Mizu's bike was parked. "We have an audition in a week if you want," he said, waiting for his friend to put on her helmet.

Once Mizu was finished putting on her helmet, she hopped on and leaned forward, pushing her weight to retract the center stand. "Not interested," she groaned out, slightly muffled behind her helmet. Her foot kickstarted the bike on before she revved the engine up a bit.

"Well if you decide to change your mind, just send me a message." Ringo stepped back a bit to give Mizu some space to move. She grunted in response and drove forward, leaving her friend waving and shout goodbyes at her.

What's so great about joining a stupid band anyway?

It's probably just filled with pretentious kids pretending to be as good as their idols but can't even memorize which strings their hammer ons should be.

Another groan escaped her lips the more she thought about the offer. It was annoying. Yet, a somehow, a small part of her wanted to play even more. The desire ringing at the back of her head like an itch she couldn't scratch off.

What if she did join?

What if it was as much fun as Ringo always said it was?

A sigh escaped her lips at how bothered she was by her thoughts. Why was she even thinking about this? She can always play her instruments at home. A crowd wouldn't make a difference, she thought as the wind whizzed past.

Her thoughts continued to race as she drove home. This band thing was stupid. Maybe she shouldn't attend the audition after a—

"Hey goofy boy!" a voice called out.

'What? Me?' she thought, lifting her visor to look around for the source of the voice. Across the stoplight, she saw another woman waving at her enthusiastically. It was almost ridiculous to look at. She raised an eyebrow, looking at her sides and behind her to see if you were talking to someone else before pointing to herself inquisitively.

"Yes you! Across the stoplight! C'mere!" you yelled, signaling her to stop in front of the cafe you were standing in front of, not really caring if other people were looking at you with how silly you were being.

Her blue eyes narrowed at you, clearly suspicious of your intentions. And yet, the way you were smiling and calling her over made her feel...something. Once the light turned green, she drove over to you, pulling up at the lot in front of the cafe.

You walked over to her, letting out a sigh of relief as she kicked the side stands on. "What do you want?" she asked in a low voice that clearly indicated that she didn't trust you even one bit.

"That.." You pointed to the guitar case on her back, making her raise an eyebrow cautiously. What did you want with her baby huh? She was so ready to throw hands.

"What model? And how long have you been playing?" you asked, still pointing to her guitar. Mizu looked over her shoulder being sighing. This was a waste of time. "I'm not inclined to tell you that," she replied, getting ready to kick her side stands off.

You snorted at her cold reply before leaning closer until she was face-to-face with you no matter how much she pulled away. The proximity allowing her to take in your features better and you were quite...pretty?

No. Wait.

Let's focus on how much of nuisance you were being.

Before she could even kick off her side stands, you already blocked her foot with yours. "Join our band," you said in a serious tone, showing her a business card before placing it in her jacket, smile still on your face.

Mizu groaned and rolled her eyes. "No. Now get your foot off before I kick it off," she replied. Yet, you kept your foot in the way of her stands, making her eyebrows knit together. "You look really goofy riding that bike of yours with a huge ass guitar case on your back," you said, eyes glancing at her guitar case before staring into her eyes intently. "You have talent, don't you?"

The smile on your face despite how serious and forward you were being was unnerving. "So what? I'm not going to join your band," she said in a low voice. Indeed, she was quite stubborn, but nowhere near your level. This motorist was the diamond in the rough you were looking for. "Goofy boy, join me in the café. It's my treat."

There was no way she's going into that café just for you to give her your sales talk and convince her to join your stupid unknown band. Not in a million years

—was what she thought.

Yet here she was, helmet off and sitting in front of you with a cup of matcha latte, watching you take a bite out of the cake you bought for yourself. After taking a slow sip, she sighed and narrowed her eyes at you. "I thought we were here talk about your band," she scoffed.

You smiled at her yet again, fork still in between your lips. "You're not going to talk right away, right? So let's take our time." A small 'tch' escaped her lips as she leaned back against the chair.

"Fine. I'll talk," she replied, staring at you up and down. Now that she was able to sit down and relax the tiniest bit, she was finally taking her time to look at you. And you weren't an eyesore at all. In fact, you were really fucking cute.

She's still not joining your band though.

A small giggle escaped your lips as you placed the fork down, resting your elbows on the table and intertwining your fingers together. "What model?" you asked, eyes darting to the guitar case beside your table.

Mizu glanced at it as her hands wrapped around the handle of her cup. "A les paul," she replied before taking a sip. Your smile widened before you took a sip from your cup as well, setting it down when she set hers down. "How long have you been playing?"

"Long enough," she replied, glancing at you, rolling her eyes at how you stared at her with curiosity, as if coercing her to tell more. "Fine, fine...before I started high school. I think. Maybe even longer."

You hummed in satisfaction and took another bite out of your cake. "Any other instruments?" you asked, raising an eyebrow at her. She crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow back at you. "A bass. A mustang."

Silence washed over both of you as you continued to eat your cake, making her feel a bit nervous. A small clink was heard as you put your fork down after taking your final bite. "What's your name, goofy boy?"

"Mizu," she replied before taking her drink into her hands. She downed it in one go, placing the cup down and picking her guitar case up. "This is pointless. I'm leaving," she said in a low husky voice, getting ready to stand up.

It was clear to her that she shouldn't have given so much time to you. She wasn't even interested in joining. Maybe if you weren't so cute, she wouldn't have tried to hear you out.

Before she can even stand up, you beat her to it, pushing her back down on the chair gently. Her eyes widened ever so slightly as you leaned forward again.

"I'll make you a star."

Huh?

Her clear surprise and confusion made you giggle. What the hell were you talking about? You pulled away and placed your hands on your hips, giving her a confident smile.

"Talent recognizes talent, Mizu. It may not be now, but I'll make you a star," you beamed.

Mizu blinked before scoffing. "That's ridiculous," she sneered before standing up and putting her helmet on. "For the last time, I'm not fucking joining your stupid audition."

Was what she said.

But here she was, a week later, sitting down inside the studio hallway. Her eyes watched as the auditionees chatted amongst themselves. Those who were done with the audition complaining about how strict the judge was, who she learned was just one person.

Her nerves were sending jitters to the tips of fingers, her throat tightening up slightly in anticipation. She closed her eyes and took a deep inhale before exhaling slowly. Just as she opened her eyes, she jumped slightly at the sight of a familiar pair of feet in front of her.

"I knew you were going to change your mind," her friend's voice chimed.

Looking up, she made eye contact with Ringo who was beaming at her, drumsticks tied to his stubby hands. "But how did you know where our studio is?"

This was the band Ringo was talking about? Oh boy.

She grunted and handed him the business card you snuck into her jacket. "The address is written there," she said with a sigh. He let out a small "oh" before his eyes widened even more. "So you've met her before," he replied cheerfully, handing the business card back.

"Who?" she asked, a serious yet curious look on her face. He looked confused for a moment before he replied, "Our manager. The one who handed you that card?" She wanted to ask more questions, but then a voice suddenly called for the drummer. "I'd love to stay and chat, but I gotta go. Bye!"

Upon Ringo leaving, Mizu sat back down and closed her eyes again, resting her elbows on her knees.

Some time later, all the auditionees had finished and yet, it seems that all of them had been rejected. "This is a waste of time. I should have left earlier," she muttered to herself.

Just as she was about to leave the studio, her name was called, leaving her with no choice. Slowly, she entered the room only to be greeted with—

"You came!" your voice beamed.

Her eyes scanned around the room to see you sitting down on a chair, holding some papers, as well as the other band members presumably. "And you're the manager apparently," she said plainly. A chuckle escaping your lips as you nodded. "You can get ready whenever you want to."

Once her guitar was plugged in and ready to go, she looked up at you again, waiting for any further instructions. Despite her mind telling her that there was nothing to be nervous about, her gut was squeezing and churning from anticipation.

Should she do her best? Or should she fuck this up?

Your eyes watched her carefully, observing how she handled her guitar. "Play any song you'd like," you said, leaning forward in your seat as you set the papers down on a chair beside you.

No. She didn't want to be in this stupid band. She's not going to do her best.

Why the fuck would she do that?

This wasn't even worth it.

Nononononononono—

She looked down on her guitar before beginning to strum the familiar intro of Smells Like Teen Spirit. Despite her bobbing her head slightly, it was clear through her body language that she wasn't even trying at all.

The smile on your face slowly disappeared until all that was left was an unreadably neutral expression. Once she was done, she looked at you with a bored expression. "Well?"

You sighed at her, giving her the same bored expression back, making her smirk a bit. "Guess I'm not in, am I?" She unplugged her guitar, getting ready to put it back in the case before your hands stopped her.

"Sit back down. We're not done," you said in a serious tone, facial expression neutral yet your eyes told her that you were daaaaaaaamn annoyed with how little of an effort she put in. The look in your eyes, they way you were gripping the neck of her guitar, did something to her. "I don't owe you a performance," she replied.

You glared at her lightly before snatching her guitar from her hands, causing her to glare at you. She tried to grab her guitar back but you kept evading her as you plugged it back in. Once it was plugged back on, you pushed towards her, making her stumble back a bit from how harsh you did it.

"Now sit down and play. Talent recognizes talent, Mizu," you growled at her. The scene causing everyone in the room to go quiet. It was clear to them that you were pissed. "If not, then sell that guitar. You're wasting it."

After all, the only thing you hated more than the equipment suddenly breaking was wasted potential. And Mizu was wasting a LOT of potential.

Your words struck a nerve in her causing her. With a loud screech, she pulled the chair towards her and sat down. "Fine. If it gets you to shut the fuck up."

She looked at you with one final glare as she leaned back, hands beginning to move against her guitar.

She began playing Hotel California, immediately skipping to the guitar rift at the end of the song.

By the normal person's ear, it wasn't anything special. There were more impressive sounding songs out there. But to you, you knew how difficult it was to get the tone of the song right with how slow it was compared to other rifts. If she made a mistake here, a wrong pluck, a wrong drag, a wrong vibrato, the mistake would be so painfully obvious.

And yet, here Mizu was, playing it perfectly with the same angry look on her face. She was damn mad at you for touching her guitar, for pushing her towards your stupid fucking band. And yet, she couldn't help but want to impress you.

Did she really not want to be in the band?

Why was she trying so fucking hard then?

Like her body was moving on its own.

Like her hands were itching to play more.

As she ended the song, she looked down at the ground. Suddenly, the sound of clapping caused her to perk up and look at you. The sight causing her breath to hitch a blush to dust over her cheeks. That was when she knew the answer to her question.

It was you and your proud little smile.

That cute fucking smile.

All the annoyance and anger you held at her melted off during her little performance. You knew you saw talent. The moment you saw that goofy looking motorist with the awkwardly large hard guitar case at the stoplight, talent already hit you like a damn truck.

Although she knew you were satisfied with her performance, she couldn't help but want to try more. She'll try. She'll damn try for the hottest fucking manager she has ever seen. Her earlier hesitations of whether she wanted to join the band or not disappearing.

Call it a gay agenda but she was going to secure this fucking spot. She'll be best fucking guitarist you have ever heard or seen.

Just as you were about to congratulate her, she raised a hand up to cut you off. "Wait—fuck—that was too easy. I... goddamnit. Wait, I'll try doing something harder," she said in a panicked slur.

Her hands immediately went back to her guitar, eyes narrowing in thought. If an impressive guitar rift was what she needed...

Suddenly, she began playing the guitar rift for Free Bird. Eyes glued to her guitar, palms sweating a bit as she hit every chord, every pluck, every fucking bend.

You couldn't place your finger on what it was, but somehow, it felt like she was playing more passionately. Like she was putting her all into this one song. Was it the way she was bobbing her head? Or the way she moved her guitar during every vibrato? Maybe the way her body moved with the music?

Once the song ended, she closed her eyes and let out a breath she didn't even know she was holding. You couldn't help but giggle at how flustered she looked, making her blush again.

"Am I in?" she asked, looking at you with hidden desperation in her eyes, making you giggle even more. Her eyebrows furrowed as you continued to laugh, not really answering her question. "Well?"

A gulp went down her throat as you stood up from your chair and picking up the papers you previously held. "Mizu," you giggled out, "You were already in from the moment you tried again."

...

oh

Well that was embarrassing.

You handed her the contract and a pen, humming as she read the content before signing. Looking at her signature, your smile widened. This flustered looking guitarist was exactly what you were looking for and you just hit jackpot.

"You won't regret this, Mizu. I swear." She glanced at you, scanning the big smile you had on your face before looking down at her guitar and unplugging it. "I better not."

Suddenly, you lunged forward at her. Her eyes widened when you suddenly took her hand in yours, intertwining your fingers together. "Talent recognizes talent," you repeated, leaning closer to her, grip tightening with every word.

"I'll make you a star."

She'll be your star.

[mothmanssweetsucculentass]

Ok here’s my two cents that no one asked for on the current (sort of?) debate going on in the Creepypasta fandom on here rn.

For starters, I grew up with Creepypasta. I also grew up mentally ill. I am also autistic. So I know my way around good and bad mental health rep at this point. And to be honest? A lot of the original stories DID suck balls at representation or just horror writing in general.

However, nowadays I see other people on here, often mentally ill or any other social outcast, taking these characters and reshaping them as their own to fit their own feelings and experiences, and I don’t think anyone has the authority to criticize things like that. Cringe culture is supposed to be dead anyways, nevermind the fact it’s inherently ableist at its core.

We also need to take into account kids still exist in the fandom. Pre teens who got tired of shit like scooby doo and wanted something more “mature” or “edgy” to get into without fully going off the deep end into full blown horror movies. At least that’s how it was for me. Not everyone, especially someone who’s younger, is gonna be comfortable with the grit and gore a lot of Creepypasta “purists” are pushing for these days, and that’s okay! When a fandom gets popular it’s always inevitable and unavoidable to have the popular characters get two dimensionalized.

There’s also the whole mascot horror thing that I don’t wanna get into, but I’m 90% sure that also plays a part in the old favorites like Jeff and slenderman being brought up again. They were and still are recognizable characters. Recognizable characters aren’t a bad thing. Making horror more approachable for younger audiences isn’t a bad thing. People having their own interpretations based out of their own experiences isn’t a bad thing.

Some of us grew up and wanted the more edgy and reality based content, and that’s also not a bad thing! But neither side should be dictating or policing how the other enjoys content in this fandom. If you personally don’t like the way something is written, characterized, depicted, or drawn, no one’s forcing you to look at it. No one’s claiming it as canon. No one’s asking for you to accept it as the end all be all.

At the end of the day this fandom was built on OCs and personal depictions of stuff. I can’t name a single character or story in this community that was created by some outside party like a movie or TV studio FIRST (because I know some got so popular they breached the fandom and got their own shows/movies/comics/etc). Everything here was created by someone who wanted an outlet for their creativity, or their pain, or their coping, or whatever else.

Realism and dark headcanons aren’t bad, and neither are any of the headcanons out there who just wanna make a goofy found family of social rejects as a form of escapism.

A 13 year old drawing a fictional layout of a fictional mansion where these fictional characters live isn’t going to suddenly invalidate the horror, I promise, it’s not that deep and it never was.

A 22 year old making a dark comic on the realistic origins of Jeff who is a fictional character in a fictional world isn’t going to suddenly invalidate the more softhearted side of the fandom.

Sure, there can still be a split if people are so adamant about that, but as someone who personally enjoys both the brutal horror side and the “haha Jeff is 15 and gay” sides equally, y’all need to at least learn to be civil to anyone who has a different headcanon than you. And if that seems like too much still, the block button exists for a reason.

TL:DR this fandom is based entirely off OCs and headcanons and people can do whatever the fuck they want because none of it is real and horror comes in many shapes and sizes and intensities and no one should be bashing anyone on their headcanons or views or rewrites or whatever else.

EDIT:

Actually wait I think I have more to say-

Horror, like any genre, has NO AGE LIMIT. And by that I mean, if someone younger wants to delve into scary stuff, they should be allowed to do so without criticism. I personally grew up on “child friendly” horror media like Scooby-Doo, and the older I got the more horror I wanted to experience.

There’s no right or wrong way to “understand” horror, and I frankly think it’s ignorant and stupid to say if you don’t fully “understand” something, then you shouldn’t be involved in it at all. Horror isn’t always about gore and unspeakable violence and the eldritch entity that wants everyone’s skin inside out. That’s why horror has sub genres for fucks sake. Gut wrenching brutality against innocent people isn’t everyone’s cup of tea and that’s okay!

However, bashing anyone’s tamer headcanons, or calling anything anyone interprets differently than you “stupid”, that’s not okay. God, I feel like an exhausted parent giving this lecture to fellow adults, but this really needs to be said and stressed.

I am an adult. I like when stuff in the fandom takes a dark turn. But for nostalgia’s sake, I also love the fanon so much, because that’s what I was exposed to.

And for fucks sake if it comes down to picking sides, I would rather stick with the part of this fandom that gives zero shits how you see a character as long as you’re having fun.

You can have your serial killer 30 year old Jeff and your canon-accurate-to-that-one-image eyeless Jack, but don’t shit on other people if they don’t want the same thing. Your interpretation isn’t canon, and neither is anyone else’s for that matter.

Realistic, dark, gritty Creepypasta isn’t a new concept, and neither is “adult” Creepypasta. And by the way, Creepypasta was never stated to be for adults. That’s like saying kids and only kids can eat trix cereal. It sounds that stupid on paper.

Let people interpret things the way they wanna interpret. No one is infringing on YOUR character ideas. Creepypasta has no age limit, nor a set way the horror has to be presented. Those who do continue to claim that just sound like pretentious assholes.

Very small side note, I personally think it’s inappropriate and rude to keep using Toby as a “bad example” of mental health rep when the creator has stated multiple times the character is old, not researched, and not even in the fandom anymore. Leave the poor guy alone.

[malice-ov-mercy]

Dirty Boy

Pretty Boy

Pairing: Noah Sebastian x Will Ramos

Content Warnings: 18+, phone sex, mutual masturbation, humiliation (?), sext

A/N: This was supposed to be Good Boy, but… well.. I once again lost track of my original idea. Expect a third part at some point.

Word Count: 2.2k

Tag list: @circle-with-me @foliosriot @sammyjoeee @cookiesupplier @concretenoah @witchyweeb34 @agravemisstake @sitkowski @missduffsblog @ladyveronikawrites @meekahy @baddestomens @dominuslunae @poisongirl616 @deathblacksmoke @gretavanomens @shilohrosechicken @emzandthevoid @an-insane-day @lyschko666 @calisto-thoughts @cncohshit @th4t-em0-k1d

If you would like to be added to my tag list please fill out this form! If you were on the old list and haven’t yet, please go ahead and fill the form out as well. I’ll no longer be using my old tag list.

Noah Masterlist

Will Masterlist

Weeks went by without so much as a ‘hello’ from Noah; when they did talk, it was short and bittersweet, leaving Will wanting more.

Despite his efforts, Will couldn’t erase that night from his mind. Countless nights were spent with it replaying. He could still feel the knife at his throat, the hands freely roaming his chest and fingers wrapping around his cock. On the more vivid nights, he could still taste Noah and feel the weight of him on his tongue. The mask he left behind sat on his bedside table, his cologne still lingering in the fabric.

Will wondered if Noah would shower him in praise or scold him for his salacious dreams. Would he be proud or full of shame knowing just how often Will spent touching himself, nose buried in his ski mask and desperately chasing after the euphoria he craved to have again, only to come up miserably unfulfilled?

He tried to ignore the throbbing erection threatening to burst through his boxer briefs, frustratedly tossing and turning waiting for sleep to claim him. Will needed Noah again like he need fucking air. His lustful infatuation was driving him to the brink of insanity.

His hand took on a mind of its own, wandering slowly across his bare chest. He thought of Noah, his large hands and slender fingers. His breath and lips on his neck, teeth grazing his skin. Will imagined his exploring, teasing touch and condescending smirk.

He trailed his hand lower, pressing his fingertips against his stomach before he palmed his confined, aching cock painstakingly slow. Will brought his other hand to his throat and gently grasped. He exhaled a shaky breath as he slipped his fingers past his waistband. Delicately, he swiped his thumb over his sensitive tip, softly moaning while smearing his precum all around.

Will shimmied his underwear down, cock springing free and standing at full attention. He reached for the ski mask and brought it to his nose. The woodsy and citrus scent started to fade, but if he focused hard enough, he could still smell it.

In the solace and shadows of his room, Will let his mind and pathetic whimpers run free. Desperately, he tried to mimic the way Noah touched him—twisting soft and slow up and down his shaft, teasing his tip with a featherlight caress, but it just wasn’t the same. So clearly he could visualize the moment, a picture perfect image of Noah’s tattooed fingers and hand wrapping around his dick. He remembered the feeling and it frustrated him that it was the one thing he couldn’t recreate.

The tension forming in his gut promised to be unfulfilling just like every other time. Regardless, he chased after mediocrity, ready to be done and try to go back to sleep.

Buzzing from his nightstand distracted him right at the cusp climax. Try as he might, he couldn’t ignore it, the incessant vibrating irritating his ears.

“Goddammit.” Will huffed, annoyed.

He dropped the mask on his chest and reached for his phone, fully intending to decline the call—until he saw the name. He hesitated for a moment before answering.

“Oh, good! You are awake!”

“Hey Noah. What—” Will cleared his throat. “What’s up?”

“Out of breath again?” Noah said amused. “Are you walking home?”

Will glanced down at his hand wrapped around his cock. He could lie and say yes, but he couldn’t think of any excuse.

“Uh,” he cleared his throat again. “N-no.”

Will could almost see the crooked smile on Noah’s face.

“Oh? Am I interrupting something this time?”

“No, I was just… sleeping.” That wasn’t very convincing, he thought. “The phone scared me awake.”

Licking his lips, Will held his breath as he started moving his hand again. He put all his focus on staying quiet while Noah talked. The sound of his voice added fuel to the fire in his loins. Will quickened his pace, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth to stifle his moan. Shameful elation surged through him.

It was exhilarating—the risk of being found out, Noah seemingly completely oblivious to his sleazy actions. Will bit down harder on his lip as his mind ran wild. What would Noah think, his pretty boy tainted by insurmountable lust? Noah’s pretty, good boy. That’s what Will was. It’s all he wanted to be. A deep groan rumbled in his chest, unbeknownst to him.

Pressure built in his gut. This was so wrong. He shouldn’t be doing this—but the taboo of it all helped soothe some of the intense burning that’d been the bane of his existence for weeks.

Noah’s name weighed heavily on his tongue. He wanted to let it free, let him know how just the thought of him and his voice drove him insane, but he swallowed it down.

“Will?”

“Hm?” Will tried to mask his moan, exhaling a staggered breath.

“Are you listening to me?”

Absolutely not, he thought.

“Yeah.” His response was low and strained.

God, he was so close. His breathing was becoming harder to control. Just a little more. Will needed just a little more of his scent flooding his nostrils, a little more Noah’s smooth, deep voice. His grip was slipping and he didn’t care. Will inhaled, filling his lungs with air and Noah’s cologne. He needed Noah to keep talking. He needed to drown himself in Noah’s scent.

“What did I say?”

Shit. Shit. Panic set in. Will had no idea, not even an inkling of what he was rambling about. He’d completely blocked out every word Noah said. Music? That seemed likely. Maybe something about the mask he’d yet to return?

Will let go of his dick and ruffled his hair, trying to kickstart his brain.

“You were talking, uh,—“ Blank. Not a thought to be found. Fuck.

Noah chuckled condescendingly. “You’re a dirty little fuck, aren’t you?”

His words caught him off guard. Will briefly felt offended then realized that’s exactly what he was. Red hot heat spread over his cheeks and face.

The call ended abruptly, deepening the embarrassment he felt. His heart sank to his stomach. Noah didn’t sound like he was bothered, but maybe he was. Though, Will wasn’t sure how he could have possibly found out. It’s not like he was being loud or obvious—at least he hoped not.

Ashamed, Will stared between at his erection and the mask on his chest. Any chance he had of a satisfying orgasm was now long gone. He almost wanted to deny himself the faux pleasure, but knew he wouldn’t be able to sleep if he did. Despite his shame and humiliation, he was too wound up to ignore it.

His phone vibrated and lit up, startling him. His heart jumped to his throat. It was Noah again, only now he was FaceTiming.

Will sat up, reaching for the bedside lamp and turned it on. He leaned against his headboard, watching his phone ring. Every one of his muscles thumped along to the racing of his heart. His finger hovered over decline. He shouldn’t. He couldn’t.

All the moisture in his mouth evaporated, leaving behind a painful dryness. His skin was on fire and the air around him suddenly felt thick in his lungs. Blood rushed to his head and he felt dizzy. The lust and desire that had been festering inside him since he laid down threatened to burn him alive.

If disaster struck right now, Will wouldn't know. His eyes were glued to the phone screen.

“I don’t mind if you’d rather watch, but I was hoping you’d join me.”

Will barely registered he was being spoken to, absolutely enamored, mesmerized, and blessed by the sight of a fully nude Noah relaxing comfortably in his office chair, crooked smile plastered on his face. Light from his computer illuminated him while the red LEDs consumed the rest of the room. The low angle allowed him to see Noah’s large cock and the hand wrapped around it in all its splendored glory. His other hand hung loosely at his hip, his long fingers every so often delicately brushing his balls.

Noah’s soft moan went straight to Will’s forgotten and throbbing erection.

“What’s wrong? Have I embarrassed my pretty boy?” Noah rasped as he squeezed the base of his dick and slowly stroked up the length, pulling a low, rumbly moan from his throat.

The underlying mocking tone in his voice and pet name made Will twitch.

He was still embarrassed, but it was an afterthought. All that filled his mind was how badly he wished he could touch Noah, how he craved having him buried down his throat, happily and blissfully choking.

Unable to bear the ache any longer, Will firmly grasped his neglected cock and gave it a few slow strokes before settling on a quick pace. He gasped breathlessly, nearly dropping his phone because of how good it felt.

He awkwardly positioned his phone and body to give Noah the best view possible.

“Fucking Christ, look at you,” the gravel in his voice sent a delightful shiver up Will’s spine. “You look so hot.”

How Noah meant that, Will didn’t know, nor did he really care. All his attention and focus was on his hand and the building ecstasy in his loins. He worked faster when he realized the release he’d been craving for weeks was finally within reach.

Will watched Noah’s hands, how his thumb teased the head of his cock, fingers softly running along the vein, the other hand delicately cupping his balls. Noah shifted in his seat and spread his legs a little wider. He muttered a swear, the muscles in his thighs flexing and relaxing.

“Look what you’ve done to me,” Noah breathed, “This is all because of you and your dirty fucking—“

His words were interrupted by a choked whimper of his name from Will.

“Say it again.” He commanded.

It should have been shameful how easily and eagerly Will obeyed Noah like a loyal dog, whining and calling out his name in every pathetic way he could, but he was far beyond being ashamed.

“Such a good boy. A good, dirty boy.”

Will felt his face grow hotter, the praise of warming his already blazing skin.

“Is that my mask? Have you been using it?”

Will nodded, mustering enough air to mutter a shaky, weak “yes”.

“Oh fuck,” Noah groaned, his strokes long and slow. “What have you been doing? Smelling it like a creep? Using it as a cum rag?”

The thought crossed his mind, but then he’d have to wash it, and Will wasn’t ready to let go of his smell just yet.

Will watched in a lust filled daze, the muscles in Noah’s neck and jaw tensing, mouth slightly gaping with ragged breaths. He would give anything to be there right now. Seeing and hearing him through a phone screen was almost as torturous as only having his recreated fantasies.

Noah quickly grabbed his phone and angled the screen towards his cock, giving Will a splendid view as it twitched and unloaded, shooting thick, white ropes all over the screen. Oh how he wished there weren’t screens between them.

Will tightened his grip on the phone, a deep moan erupting from his chest as his own climax gave way, at long last finally getting the pure satisfactory bliss he’d been craving. Hips slightly raised, he tore his gaze from Noah, watching his own cum spill over his hand and stomach.

“Fuck.” He whined, loud and low, milking his cock for every drop.

Both men heaved heavy breaths. Noah visibly sunk back into his office chair, pure bliss and contentment on his face. Will looked between the mess on his hand and stomach, unsure of how to end the call to clean up.

“Hey Will?” Noah said.

Will turned his attention to his phone. Noah’s body was no longer in frame, replaced instead by his flushed face. His eyes landed on Noah’s lips.

“There’s cum all over you.”

Noah stuck out his tongue and made a show of licking his semen from his screen. Will sucked in a quick breath. The obscenity fried his brain.

“Mm, that’s much better.” A sly smirk spread across Noah’s face.

Feeling bold, Will brought his hand to his mouth. He ignored Noah’s curious gaze and delicately licked the cum from his hand, wishing it was Noah he tasted instead.

“What a dirty boy you are.”

Will stared flabbergasted at him.

“Me?! You just licked your fucking phone!”

Noah laughed, not an ounce of shame on his face.

“Touché. Although—” The way Noah’s eyes darkened sent a shiver up Will’s spine.

“I’d love to see how much more vulgar and dirty you can be.”

The call ended, Noah once again abruptly cutting their conversation short.

Will knew what he meant, but still wondered what exactly he had in mind. He stared at the mess he made then at the mask still on his chest. An idea sprung to mind. Will acted quickly before he talked himself out of it, using the mask to wipe up the semen then draped it over his dick. He snapped a photo and sent it to Noah.

He tossed the cum stained mask to his nightstand along with his phone and turned off the bedside light. As he was stuffing himself back into his underwear, a text from Noah came through. Will expected a response, but what he didn’t expect was the pure, absolute, unfiltered filth.

Hastily, he set aside his phone and tried to ignore the raunchy images creeping inside his brain. The more he tried, the more hot and bothered he became.

Sleep would evade Will again that night—and many more after.

[skyevie]

I finally finished both mcl new gen episodes (kind of long post about my opinions and feelings)

Tbh I wasn't so sad about the old mcl coming to an end because I think when armin was removed back in hsl it just prepared me for whatever could come next LMAO. I am a big fan of Jason and Amanda, the rest of the Li's... are there I guess ! I think the new point system is kind of weird and overcomplicated for no reason, I really don't like the fact that we have to pay AP's for dialogue and clothes because I can either buy more clothing/recolors and be satisfied with how my character looks or save up for the new episodes... and the fact that you can't buy AP with money, only the blue hearts that can be traded for AP? (not to mention that the prices went up comparing to go mcl at least in my country) But you also need the blue hearts for those special moment with LI's every ep... like idk its sad that there is a part of content you can miss out because you simply don't want to spend money every time an ep is here lol. The missions (which is basically the eldarya expeditions) are fine since we get clothes for that. The calendar is a nice touch up because it's something new and refreshing. But the paid part and vip subscription and the clothes offers in the shop are the next thing that don't seat well with me.... Like we could get a little more for that price... especially since it rounds up to 120 dollars per year... And the fact that all the cute outfits are locked behind a daily shop rotation that have to use real money on... Oh and the last on the more negative side why does our uncle only give stuff for our fuckass goose.... We love you Taki but it's not that serious we could get like a t-shirt... or smth...

On the positives, I really like the fact that our Candy can have a personality now! Like finally we aren't a blank page that adjusts to the people we talk to and we can have opinions AND THEY MATTER! Also the clothes are much cuter, like finally someone thought - yes u can be an adult and have fun clothing and not dress boring! We love that! And I giggled to myself a little when I read why Candy switched her job lol. Reminder me of Eric's arc Eric we love you forever idc about what other said about your route.

At the end of the day I think I will try the vip for one month just to see is it really like worth it for someone who is going to be rather active on this game. Idk im excited for the plot tbh and especially how much it changes depending on the fact if we romance the Devenementiel LI's or Jason.

Also if anyone needs help with answers to the episodes I can help :3