#i just. ahahahaha. FUCK man

[mechawolfie]

I love to be dizzy and nauseous and lightheaded and feel pain all over it's so fun!!! my family is right I'm like this on purpose I love to be in pain and I love to avoid doing the dishes by any means necessary!!! i would rather individually hit every single of my nerve endings with a micro hammer than do the dishes , in fact I'm doing that right now so i won't have to do dishes today!!!! yay this is so fun!!!!!!! fuck work !!!!!!!!!!!!

[nakahras]

᯽ wet dreamz • osamu dazai

synopsis • you’ve been having some dubious dreams about one (1) osamu dazai and you let it slip.

warnings • swearing, lucid dreaming, fem!reader, ņsfw, dazai (he needs his own warning, yes), nickname “bella” is used, hair pulling, some light hand stuff/teasing, oral (f -> m), no set dynamic (both parties switch), masturbation (f), clothed sex, edging, finger sucking, slight choking, creampie, overstimulation, pussy drunk dazai, this is a long one >.<, also mildly unedited

wc • 6.8k

a/n • ahahahaha i don’t know

his hands are all over you, all at once, but it’s still not enough. you can’t pinpoint why because in all honesty it should be borderline overwhelming. but it’s not.

maybe you’re just greedy. you’ve been waiting for this for so long that you’ve been dreaming about it. dreaming? something washes over you and, once again, you can’t place it. you shake it off internally. how could you pay anything much attention when what you should be paying attention to is the man underneath you pawing at your skin.

he’s demanding all of your attention and you’ll gladly give it to him. you don’t remember how you got here, or how you got his shirt off but you dip down and kiss his exposed and surprisingly sun kissed skin. everything is blurry, the feeling of his skin under your lips, the image of him shirtless underneath you and the sensation of his nimble fingers kneading at your ass. 

before you can overthink it, he gets impatient and guides your hips to grind down on his hardened crotch. your mind is the next thing to become blurry. you straighten up and throw your head back as the sensation of the friction overtakes your senses. you want more, need more.

as if the brunette could read your mind, he’s tugging at your panties. it’s only then that you realize, he’s pantless as well. things felt like they were going too fast and also too slow all at once. you sit yourself back down on his length and continue to grind down on him.

your head is swimming and distantly you hear ringing in your ears. you ignore it though, the sounds of his moans drowning out any other noise. his grip on your bottom tightens and he lifts your hips up expertly aligning himself with your entrance.

he’s about to sit you back down and stretch you out but the ringing gets louder and everything goes white.

᯽•᯽

you woke this morning in a pool of your own sweat — thighs rubbing together desperately seeking out the same sensations you experienced in your dream. 

now you’re sitting at your desk feeling extremely embarrassed and, frankly, frustrated that you had yet another wet dream about your coworker, dazai osamu. 

you let out a huff while typing up a report on yesterday’s case. of all people in this office it just had to be the most insufferable of them all. why did he have to be so gorgeous? why couldn’t you think the same of kunikida? hell, even ranpo would have been a better choice than dazai. you think your subconscious is cruel. laughing at you, making fun of you by giving you wet dreams. you felt like a fucking teenager. hell, you don’t think you even had wet dreams when you were an adolescent going through puberty. how utterly embarrassing.

you let out yet another exasperated sigh, brows furrowed and fingers typing furiously. you were making a spectacle and your deskmates had long since noticed your sour mood. atsushi and kunikida were the smart ones, they simply let you be, figuring if you wanted to talk about it you would bring it up. 

dazai, however, is nosey. his natural curiosity always getting the better of him. he builds a simple paper airplane and shoots it through the air. it lands right on your keyboard and your aggressive typing finally ceases. you stare at the airplane as if you’ve never seen one in your entire life. you refuse to look up, fearing that if you look at dazai you’ll be reminded of what your subconscious thinks of him. you don’t think you can handle that quite yet.

dazai watches, slightly perturbed, as you seem to try to make his little creation spontaneously combust. no matter how unsettling, dazai still isn’t deterred. atsushi shoots him a warning look, as if to say this wasn’t a good idea. the brunette blatantly ignores the boy and wheels himself over to your part of the desk, which was a show in itself since you’re on the complete opposite side of where he was sat. that means dazai has to push himself past either atsushi or kunikida. of course, him being the menace that he is, dazai chooses the harder path of going around kunikida.

you don’t see it because you’re still having a staring contest with your little gift but kunikida’s eye twitches as dazai swivels past him. the blonde was going to take the high road though. he was going to let it slide since you seemed to need the distraction. but dazai was clumsy and clipped his wheels on the ones of his partner’s chair. kunikida’s eye twitches and he can’t help himself.

”dazai…” it’s a simple warning. one that the brown eyed detective promptly ignores.

dazai makes it to you without another hitch and gingerly reaches over to replace the airplane with a paper rose.

you blink. stare some more. then finally look up. “dazai, what the fuck?” 

“oh c’mon, bella. you’ve been in a mood all day. i thought a rose would cheer you up enough to tell me what’s got you in such a sulky mood.” dazai pouts at you and it takes everything in you to look away for your sanity.

you can feel your cheeks heating up by just the small interaction. if these dreams persist, you’re not sure you can keep your composure. you were barely hanging on by a thread as it was. you distantly think maybe it’s your subconscious telling you that you need to get laid. you almost scoff at the thought.

yes. it has been some time since you last slept with someone, but there is no way that was causing the dreams. if that was the case you would be having dreams about more than just dazai. he was simply plaguing your mind and you think you might go insane if this kept going on. 

so instead of dealing with it like a sane person, because you aren’t right now, you decide to take it out on the very man that has been haunting your mind. “i’m trying to get my work done and i’m certainly not in the mood. go bother atsushi if you’re bored, dazai.”

you hear a small complaint come from across the desk and look up to see atsushi giving you an accusatory expression. you immediately feel guilty for throwing him under the bus and finally relax for the first time all day. you toss the weretiger an apologetic smile then whip around to glare at dazai for a moment.

”i changed my mind. you’re buying me lunch at the cafe. let’s go.” you don’t give dazai any time to answer. you save your work, shut your laptop and promptly stand up and walk off. you weren’t going to give dazai any room to argue. you figured if he didn’t follow then he wasn’t that curious and you got to enjoy a break in silence.

unfortunately you hear dance-like footsteps coming from behind you, indicating that dazai was, in fact, following. you both step into the elevator and about halfway down dazai finally opens his mouth.

”so, what’s got a beautiful woman such as yourself in such a mood today?” his smile is lazy and eyes dull.

you hate this. you hate when he acts like this. you do genuinely like dazai, just not this version of him. the shut off version, the one that puts on a facade and plays with people for fun. you don’t have much time to think about it though. the elevator jolts to a sudden stop and dings, indicating that you’ve made it to the ground floor. you scurry out of the small space and make your way to the cafe. 

when you enter your mood instantly sours seeing that it wasn’t lucy in today, but rather the waitress dazai is always making eyes at and wistfully requesting her to perform a double suicide with him. you muster up a smile to offer the owner and wave at him before taking your seat at one of the booths. dazai plops himself on the other side across from you.

the waitress comes over and you brace yourself for the encounter that’s about to transpire. dazai watches you closely, head tilting to the side curiously. 

“welcome, detectives, what can i get you started with today?” her smile is sweet and you feel bad for your previous annoyance. it’s not her fault dazai doesn’t understand the art of subtlety. 

dazai speaks up before you can get a chance to. “go on, bella, you order whatever you want.” dazai addresses his attention to the waitress next. “everything will be going on my tab, miss waitress.”

”how very generous of you, mr. dazai. i assume you finally invested in that life insurance policy i recommended?” her smile is sweet but her words are clipped and condescending. you let out a little snort as dazai starts to sweat a little. 

before dazai can quip back, you order. “i’ll take an iced latte and the sandwich of the day, please.”

“of course miss. what about you, mr. dazai?”

dazai almost shrinks at her faux warm demeanor. “i’ll just take a cup of coffee.” 

you raise your brow at him disapprovingly and before the waitress can scurry off you quickly get out, “can you make sure my sandwich is cut in half?”

she smiles at you genuinely and nods her head. after she walks off you catch dazai staring at you once again. you know he’s about to speak again and you dread whatever it is that’s going to fall from those surprisingly full lips of his. 

“so, are you going to tell me what’s gotten your panties in a twist all day?”

nice.

how eloquent of him. 

you scowl at him and hiss out, “could you not refer to it as that?”

”sorry, bella. would you rather i ask why you’ve been so sour all day in a different way?” dazai grins at you clearly pleased at getting a rise out of you. 

you huff and roll your eyes. “would you believe me if i told you it’s because i had a dream of you?”

”oh? did you now? what was the dream about? you must regale me with all of the details.” dazai sets his elbows on the table in between the two of you. his fingers intertwine and he rests his head atop his hands. 

it’s almost eerie, the way he’s looking at you but you can’t quite place why. you wince internally realizing your mistake. how the hell are you supposed to tell dazai that you fantasized about— no. you didn’t fantasize, it was a dream. a creation of your subconscious. not of your control. you want to shrivel up and die. 

how the hell are you supposed to explain that to dazai?

you don’t. it’s the only sane reasoning you can come up with. but now you have to scramble to come up with something to dazai. the longer you just blankly stare at him the more suspicious he’s going to get. you can see it in the way his eyes become hooded and his right brow shifts up.

dazai perks up a bit and, oh god, here it comes. the realization you’ve been dreading. “don’t tell me you dreamt about me in that way.” he hums dramatically. “what a naughty girl, thinking about your colleague in such a way~”

you involuntary freeze. sure you knew this was coming but there is no way he saw through you that easily. he came to that conclusion so fast and you know for a fact you aren’t an easy person to read unless you want someone to. he couldn’t have just picked up on your thoughts like that. no, you have to remind yourself this is dazai osamu. he could have done exactly that. regardless, you refuse to admit it to yourself, let alone dazai.

“absolutely n-“ you’re cut off by the waitress dropping off your drinks and the sandwich. 

clearly she understood what you meant by your earlier request because she brings you an extra plate. you thank her one more time before she walks off. placing the slightly bigger half of the sandwich on the extra plate and scooting it towards dazai.

“eat.” he looks at you curiously but obliges when you give him an expectant glare.

you know he won’t drop the previous subject but luckily for you he’s too busy with eating to make much conversation. you both enjoy your respective halves of the delicious sandwich in silence. it was peaceful, a stark contrast to what usually transpired when you’re with dazai. you observe him quietly, subtly, as you chew on the last bite of your food.

he’s picking at the bread after only two bites. his coffee was finished within the first few minutes of it being set in front of him. a clear avoidance. keeping himself busy with sipping on his coffee so he wouldn���t have to eat. the few bites were to appease you. unfortunately for him you know all of those tricks, maybe a little too well.

you cross your arms over your chest and think about this tactically, you know if you scold him outright he’ll brush it off easily. you have to think like him for a moment. what would he do if your positions were switched.

playing dumb. “you know, it’s not very polite to let a lady eat more than you…” 

you pout and look away from him, trying to seem embarrassed. you’re not sure if it’s worked. you’re honestly too nervous to look. you think it must look real because you’re now actually embarrassed by the probably god awful acting you just displayed.

but then you hear distinct chewing and peak over to something that pleasantly surprises you. he’s taken another two bites, significantly larger than the last two, because he’s almost finished with the sandwich by the time you fully turn to look at him. 

for the first time all day you finally crack a smile at him and let out a fit of giggles. dazai almost chokes on the sandwich from the sound alone. it’s a sound he’ll never get used to nor will he ever get tired of it. you’re too busy trying to calm your giggles to notice dazai’s internal struggle as he finishes off his own food all the while staring at you in amazement.

you take a few calming breaths and look at him, still all smiles. dazai resists the urge to clutch his chest, something in it stirs — an extremely alarming and foreign sensation for him. dazais nerves are suddenly on fire. he suddenly recalls what you said earlier, how you dreamt about him. he knows you planned on denying his earlier implications but the way you paused makes him think you were having those types of dreams about him. 

dazai’s fingers twitch at his sides. he’d be lying if he said he didn’t think of you like that. hell, he’d probably have the same types of dreams if he actually dreamt. dazai’s breathing shallows and he need to get away from you. his self control thinning with each passing second he thinks about you in the most intimate of ways. 

he knows it’s wrong. at least in your case you can’t control it. but here his is, shamelessly fantasizing about you like you aren’t sat right in front of him. dazai disgusts himself. he wants to bash his head in, his thoughts swimming, making it hard for him to focus. vision blurring and ears rushing like there’s water stuck in them.

dazai abruptly stands up and announces, “we should get back to work. kunikida will get on us if we take any longer.”

you’re so perplexed because when has dazai ever cared about what kunikida thinks about? then you notice it, the unmistakable bulge straining against the crotch of his pants. you swear you didn’t mean to look, it was just currently at eye level. you’re suddenly given an opportunity, something you need to make a decision on and quickly. 

as calmly as you can, you slide out of the booth and wave to the owner and waitress before grasping onto dazai’s hand and dragging the brunette away with you. dazai is far too dazed to protest at how assertive you’re being. you lead the way to the elevator and the ride there is painstakingly quiet and slow. the second the contraption dings and the doors begin to open you’re slipping through with dazai still in tow.

the lanky man is thoroughly confused when, instead of going back to the office, you shove the two of you in the supply closet. he wants to ask but something tells him he doesn’t need to. your body language gives way that you’re going to explain yourself.

thank god there’s a lock on the inside of this room. you really did not want to relocate to the bathroom for this. dazai is still dazed, unsure of what’s happening, just letting you toss him around like a rag doll. everything is still on fire making him feel detached from his body. the sensation is almost numbing.

“you know what’s so frustrating?” your breathing is just as shallow as his is now. the ride on the elevator working you up far more than it should have. 

although he’s detached, your voice anchors him. he looks down at your flushed face and he almost whimpers at the sight. he croaks out, “what is?”

“you. you’re so frustrating. your stupid act, your stupid need to play dumb, your stupid big brown eyes, your stupidly long fingers, your stupidly handsome face and your stupidly careless actions. y’know, you’ve had a hard on since you stood up at the cafe. practically shoved it in my face.” you have him trapped, his back is hitting the end of some shelves.

you don’t touch him yet. you look up at him and gauge his reaction. he seems to be battling with what he should say and you could laugh in triumph. you’ve never seen someone render the dazai osamu speechless, but you just did it with a few suggestive sentences. 

dazai takes a shuddered breath collecting his wits before grinning down at you after fully processing your words. “my apologies, bella. that wasn’t my intention, but what is yours? this is quite the damning position you have me in.”

your confidence falters but you quickly recover and click your tongue. “it would be rude of me to not help you calm down… especially if i was the cause.” 

you look away, embarrassed by your own proposition. dazai takes a moment. he knows what you’re implying, he’s sure of it, but he’s having a hard time wrapping his head around it. after what feels like an eternity— it’s not, you’re just being dramatic— it finally clicks in dazai’s head. you’re being serious, if the look on your face is any indication. 

the detective hums and reaches out. his hand cups your face and glides up into your hair, fingers tangling with the strands and tugging just a little too harshly to be considered gentle. he was needy, you could see it in the endless sea of honey that are his irises. something was stirring. 

“how am i supposed to say no to that? i’m a weak man, unable to deny a beautiful woman when she makes such an enticing offer.”

you don’t have time to bite back with a witty comment because his lips are quite literally crashing into yours. the second his chapped lips make contact with your own every single touch and action from him comes from a place of desperation. although skilled, his actions are sloppy and almost rushed. his free hand grips your waist and draws you even closer. 

your hands land on his chest to brace and balance yourself. you try to catch your breath but dazai is proving that difficult with how his tongue dances along your own. his actions steal your breath away from you and make your lungs burn, screaming for relief and air. 

the lack of air and the sensation of dazai’s tongue tangling with your own dizzies your head. you can’t get a proper thought out. instinctively your mouth is moving with his, tongue smoothing over his, and hands fisting at the cloth on his chest but you couldn’t move out of your own volition. 

dazai pulls your head back by once again tugging at your hair. you let out an involuntary whimper, making sure to stay quiet as you gasp for air. dazai dips his head down and speaks in between littering kisses on your neck.

“i thought you were going to help me calm down, bella. so far i’m doing all the work and now i’m far more worked up than i was in the cafe.” 

his words bring you crashing down to reality and you scowl. of course he would still tease you. he loves getting a rise out of you. 

you don’t entertain him, though. instead your hand travels down his torso and starts tugging at his shirt. you pout at him mockingly. “i didn’t realize some mild kissing would work you up so much. ‘didn’t realize you were so sensitive -- so needy.” 

dazai wants to quip back at you but as you’re talking you’re undoing his pants and your last word is emphasized by you shoving your hand down his pants. your hand almost falters when you realize he’s not wearing anything underneath. instead, though, you take your index finger and teasingly run it along his length. it feels endless, he’s long, you realize. you briefly wonder just how far, how deep, he could reach inside of you. 

dazai shudders at the feather like touches to where he needs attention the most right now. you lean up and with your free hand you tug on dazais collar to bring him down to your level. your breath fans over his ear and, god, he shudders again. 

you hum. “‘s this where you need attention right now?”

“yes.” dazai breathes out the word. clearly affected by the way your finger is twirling around the leaking tip of his cock.

you maintain eye contact with dazai as you sink to your knees. the implication alone has dazai’s nerves coiling tighter. he brings his hand up to cover his face, head falling back as he groans. his breathing becomes more erratic as you withdrawal your hand, he barely contain a whimper from falling past his lips at the loss of contact. but you make quick work of shocking his pants halfway down his thighs and finally freeing his strained length.

your mouth begins to salivate involuntarily. his cock is surprisingly pretty and just as you suspected — his length is impressive, definitely above average. the leaking tip is flushed pink and his veins are visibly throbbing. you want nothing more than to choke on it but first, you think you need to tease him some more.

you rest your cheek on his trembling thigh and stare up at him innocently. “osamu.” he could cum, right then and there with the way you say his given name.

dazai looks down at you. the sight in front of him bringing him embarrassingly closer to release. all dazai can muster is a hum of acknowledgment and even that sounds a little pained.

you smile at his obvious desperation. “if i help you out here you need to follow a couple rules. be quiet and no touching. think you can do that for me?”

dazai tries so hard to pay attention to your words but barely registers them. did you say no touching? no touching what? and him being quiet? a bold request of him.

you seem pleased with how quick he is to nod at you in obedience. you waste no time, ready to indulge both of your fantasies. you lick a long stripe along the vein on the underside of his cock. dazai is twitching at the one action alone. how embarrassing of him — you both have the same thought. 

the brunette’s fingers itch to touch you but his mind is coherent enough to remember your stipulations. no touching. how cruel of you. to resist that temptation when you’re making him feel this good is just downright wicked.

you don’t miss the way his fists clench in a desperate attempt to keep his word. how could you not reward him for that? listening to you like such a good and obedient puppy. your tongue darts out to swirl around his flushed tip. the taste of his precum floods your tastebuds and you’re instantly hooked like an addict to their drug of choice. dazai’s taste was your new vice. 

your lips wrap around his head and you hollow your cheeks. dazai is panting. his head spinning from the pleasure at just the slightest of touches from you. his head hangs back and he brings his fist to his mouth and bites down. he wants to groan, wants to whimper, wants to moan your name. but you’ve denied him that privilege and he has a feeling that you would be merciless if he gave in and disregarded your requests. 

you take more of him with each bob of your head and with each stroke of your tongue you unravel the tight coil that had formed in dazai’s stomach. he was already so close. what a sight it would be to watch you choke over him as he spills everything he has directly down your throat. the thought almost undoes him. he bites down on his fist harder and he thinks he may have broken skin.

you observe dazai and it’s all so hot. his pants, his facial expressions, the way sweat is starting to form on his face and cause his hair to stick to it. you can feel yourself getting worked and you’re impatient. thank god the weather permitted you to wear a pencil skirt instead of the usual slack you usually wear. you use your free hand to bunch up your skirt at your waist. the actions makes your movements on dazai’s cock a little sloppy. he hadn’t noticed yet but his brows furrow as if he’s starting to. you try to fix your pace but it’s too late. he is already picking up his head and peering down at you. 

you were trying to touch yourself. if his head wasn’t already spinning this is what would be what sent him into a spiral. you had the audacity to call him needy but then in turn do something like this. it was unfair. 

Dazai can’t help himself. “bella, are you trying to touch yourself?” it comes out as a teasing whisper. you don’t miss the amusement in his voice. 

you suppose you asked him to stay quiet, not to stay silent.

still, your brows furrow and you ever so slightly graze your teeth against his cock. the sensation is something dazai sickeningly loves. his eyes are rolling back into his head and he let’s out a short moan. it’s quiet and you’re quite annoyed that he’s found a loophole. 

you can’t deny that his noises aren’t doing something for you, though. you’re even more desperate than before to slip out of your panties. you maneuver around and manage to shimmy them off. it’s almost embarrassing how wet the crotch of them are. you try to care but you just can bring yourself to do so when dazai’s hips begin to thrust and force the small bit of his length you’ve been unable to touch down your throat. 

you gag around him and dazai’s grasping at the shelves behind him for leverage. you spread your legs the best you can, being on your knees like this and sneak your hand up your thigh. you can feel the heat radiating off of you. you run a finger through your slick and moan around dazai when the digit brushes your clit.

“fuck, fuck, fuck ‘s so good, bella. your mouth ‘s so perfect for me.” his voice is hushed and breathy.

you’re not even listening to his babble as your nose continues to brush against his pelvis every time your sucking him back into your mouth. gagging, choking, on his cock. your eyes are watery, tears spilling from that and the sensation coming from below your pelvis. your finger makes expert work of your clit.

it’s too much.

you can’t breath right, dazai can’t think right, you gag with every thrust, dazai can’t control his stuttering hips, your one hand is playing with yourself and the other reaches up to cup dazai’s balls. 

it’s not only too much for you, it’s too much for dazai. the added sensation makes nerve, every cell, every fiber that makes up dazai ignite. he was about to cum, he needed to warn you. he needed to open his mouth and say something but it just flapped, no noise was coming out.

you bob your head back and peer up at dazai, his erratic breathing becoming suspiciously loud. the look on his face is absolutely breathtaking — it’s flushed, almost beet red, tears of his own trickle down his cheeks in droplets. he looked like a fallen angel, beautiful and dangerous all at the same time. 

you moan at the sight. fingers traveling down to your entrance and slowly pushing through. you suck in a breath and fold your lips over your teeth to keep yourself from grazing his length with them. the initial stretch feels divine but your fingers themselves aren’t enough. you need dazai’s twitching cock inside your cunt.

you note that dazais cock is throbbing painfully and starts to twitch quite a lot.

oh, you realize, he’s going to cum. 

you smirk deviously. you push your mouth down on dazai until his tip is hitting the back of your throat. with your eyes still on him you hollow your cheeks and swallow. dazai almost yelps at the added stimulation. his head snaps up and finally his attention is on you.

“shit.” he hisses, this time a little louder, so you glare up at him. “sorry- sorry but- fuck- gonna cum, please, ‘m so close.”

the second those words leave his mouth you’re backing up and removing your fingers from yourself. dazai let’s out a mangled noise, something between a sob and laugh. it was almost unnerving but the blissed out look on dazai’s face tells you he’s enjoying this game far more than the average person.

you watch his chest heave, his breathing heavy. his face is as red as a blooming rose. you think it’s a sort of beautiful sight to see. dazai never gets flustered, so seeing him like this, you can’t help but to feel special. 

you stand up as you pout at him, mock empathy written all over your face. “sorry, did you wanna cum? don’t think i can have that quite yet. not when you haven’t even fucked me. right, osamu?”

there it is again, the sound of his given name falling from your lips. something in dazai snaps. the thread of his sanity that you’d been stretching thin ever since the cafe finally tore in two. his eyes darken dangerously and you only have a moment to realize the shift before he’s picking you up by your thighs and wrapping them around his thin waist. you can feel his stiff cock lightly bouncing against your ass as he flips you around and pins you against the shelves.

his head dips down and he lips scant across the skin of your neck. he’s careful to only leave feather light touches. scraping the rough skin of his mouth on one of your most sensitive areas sends a shock of electricity through your body. you so badly want to tug at his hair but you’re coherent enough to realize your fingers are still coated in your own slick. 

you smile slyly at the detective as he peers at you through his ridiculously long lashes. you grab his chin delicately and bring your soiled fingers to his lips. his eyes light up in immediate realization. he wordlessly opens his mouth, tongue lolling out a bit as he happily waits for his treat like a puppy, you can practically see his tail wagging. you let out a breathless laugh, because you think you may be screwed. dazai osamu has you wrapped around his pretty and lithe fingers and you think he already knew that. 

you think about making him beg for it but you’re so momentarily mesmerized by the brunette that you find yourself leaning in and gently interesting the digits into his mouth. dazai is quick to appreciate your offering. his lips encase your fingers and his tongue makes quick work of lapping up and savoring your taste.

dazai’s hip involuntarily rut into yours and you can’t help yourself. all the pent up frustration you’ve felt since the dreams started finally gets to your head. you’re desperate to feel him inside of you. a sensation you were always denied of, waking up before actually getting fucked by the very man holding you each time. you reach down to guide his cock then expertly shift your hips and he becomes perfectly aligned with your entrance. dazai is sucking on your fingers but his actions become sloppy as he watches what you’re doing with intense concentration.

you waste no time sinking yourself down on his length, he’s already well coated in your slick and eases into you. you bite on your lip to avoid making any obscene noises but dazai snaps you into reality when he carelessly moans loudly. you panic and shove your fingers further into his mouth. he hums appreciatively and if his hips rocking into yours didn’t feel so good you’d hop off his cock right then and there and leave him blue balled. you could bring yourself to do that though, not when you’ve been waiting for this for so long.

you settle for hissing out, “shut the fuck up, dazai.” 

dazai gives you a shit eating grin as he snakes an arm under your ass and squeezes before slowly shifting his hips away from yours, leaving you virtually empty, before sliding himself back into you at the same painstakingly slow pace. he repeats the slowed movements a few times before you’re slipping your fingers out of his mouth and bracing yourself on his shoulders. you try to move your hips on your own but dazai is quick to catch you.

“ah, ah, bella. can’t have you doing whatever you want right now. unless you want me to get louder, you’ll let me set the pace.” his voice is slightly strained and hushed, but despite his seriousness, you can hear the tiniest bit of teasing mixed in.

you let out a whine but resign to him setting the pace. in the meantime your fingers find their way to his hair and tug. dazais hips stutter, showing you that he is far too needy to take full control. taking full advantage of just how distracted he is, you grind your hips into the detective’s with each thrust and dip your head to leave sloppy wet kisses along his jaw and down his neck.

“shit, you’ve been so wound tight all the time lately that even your perfect cunt has a vice grip on me. it’s so perfect, feels so good.” you can tell how hard dazai is trying to be quiet and you note that you should reward him for that later.

it doesn’t take long for his pace to increase, his rapid movements making the shelves behind you rock and creak. dazai still seems displeased with the pace, his brows knitting together in concentration. you catch his eyes flitting to your neck and lingering there. 

you’ve always worn your tie loose, the first couple buttons if your dress shirt undone. it drives dazai mad. your neck and cleavage are always on display in the most tasteful way. he wants nothing more than to run his hand over your velvety soft skin and wrap his nimble fingers around your neck. now that he has the chance to do so, he can’t pass up the opportunity.

your grip in his hair tightens as he shifts you, keeping you up with one arm as he keeps his pace. you have no room to question him when the new positioning has his cock nudging your sweet spot so deliciously. your head becomes dizzy and your mouth falls open in a silent moan. 

dazai’s hand travels up your body, palm flush with your skin so he can feel every bump and curve. he starts at your upper abdomen and slithers it up. he completely ignores your breasts which you vaguely think was his goal. you have no time to act surprise over it bc his hand is gently wrapping around your neck. he wants to squeeze, fingers twitching, but he resigns to a light grip to simply test the waters. 

your response is something he wasn’t expecting. your eyes roll back and you let out a hushed whimper. that’s when he realizes, he wants to do this forever. he wants to fuck you senseless so he can see that beautiful expression on your face forever. so he can feel you tightly wrapped around him forever. dazai wants you forever. the fleeting thought scares him just a little but he has no time to dwell on it because the coil in his stomach is unraveling once again.

“dazai-“ your interrupted by him bringing you in for a sloppy kiss. you think the noises from the kiss alone are far more obscene than the noises from him bullying his cock into you, which is a hard feat considering those are, by no means, quiet or pure. 

when the brunette detaches himself he breathes out. “osamu- shit- ‘s osamu…”

“osamu. ‘m gonna cum. so close- please.” you let out a quiet sob as you babble.

dazai has no time to respond. it’s embarrassing, the way he can’t even give you any other warning but him shoving his face in your shoulder, grip tightening around your throat ever so slightly. the whimper he lets out tells you everything you need to know before he starts spilling his cum inside of you.

the throbbing of his cock and sensation of him filling you up has your walls contracting and you’re diving off the deep end yourself. you bite your lip hard. desperate trying to keep yourself from making more noise than the whines sticking in your throat. your vision blurs and and hearing goes muffled as your senses become overwhelmed by your high.

dazai is still rutting his hips into you, guiding you through your orgasm despite his twitches and obvious overstimulation. when you come back to your senses, dazai is whimpering a lot louder than previously. his grip on your neck is lost as he leaves soothing strokes on your side. you tug at his hair to lift his head so you can look at him.

his face is somehow even more flushed than earlier, you’re almost concerned. the look in his eyes though makes something stir inside of you. his glazed over and hooded eyes, completely unfocused. his lips parted as he’s letting out short and shuddered puffs of air. dazai has lost all senses but the feeling of him inside of you. 

“osamu. hey- look at me. you need to calm-“ you his when his rutting becomes more intense, thrusts becoming less shallow but hips and cock still twitching wildly, you have to stop him otherwise you’ll both lose yourselves in this supply closet and you can’t afford to do that when everyone is still in the office next door. “osamu we need to get back.”

dazai seems to have regained some of his consciousness. “again.”

you let out a breathless laugh, eyes glimmering in genuine amusement and adoration. “not right now. later. we need to get back. i have a case i need to finish working on.”

dazai finally fully comes back to you and he lightens up at the promise of later. that means this isn’t just a one time thing. something in that back of his head always told him if he crossed that line with you, things wouldn’t be the same, he’d only have one shot. but your words are such a relief he could cry. he can’t help himself, he has to clarify.

“later? after work and… again anytime after that?” his eyes are pleading and hopeful and you can’t help but melt under his soft gaze.

you nod and open your mouth to affirm his statement but you're rudely interrupted by a loud rapping at the closet door. “you two better have not done any of that by my emergency snack stash and you better clean up after yourselves. hurry up, i can't keep stalling and kunikida needs staples.”

ranpo’s voice rings throughout the room. you groan in embarrassment and bury yourself into his chest. dazai lets out a gleeful laugh still dizzyingly drunk on the idea of your promise.

[chaos-in-deepspace]

L&DS Rafayel: Crab Wars | Drabble - Comedy

Ahahahaha so this is a comedic post. I feel like every day life with Rafayel would have these moments of just "Bro wtf are you doing?" and this encapsulated it perfectly.

Pairing: Rafayel x Reader Warning: None Disclaimer: This is an original fan work for “Love and Deepspace”. Do not repost on other platforms or plagiarize. All characters shown in this fic is 18+.

Blog Information | Masterlist

Rafayel

There were so many things you had come to accept when it came to Rafayel. He was eccentric and tended to just do whatever he felt like. So, how did he still manage to get you at a loss for words? Absolutely stunned as you stared at the situation right in front of your eyes,

He had invited you over for dinner, and this is what you came to? You looked at your beloved boyfriend standing in the middle of his kitchen. Around him were five living crabs. Their claws were up and snapping as he stood in the center of a circle. He looked at you, then back at the crab directly before him.

"Okay, what the ever-loving fuck is happening, Raf?" You finally managed to say. You pinched the bridge of your nose and crossed your arms over your chest. You honestly didn't know what to do with this man anymore.

Rafayel seemed almost sheepish, but he had gained control of his emotions and schooled them to appear nonchalant about the ordeal. "Well, I wanted to let them walk around a bit before I cooked then," he said, already a bad start to this story. And then they just surrounded me…I think they assume I'm their king."

You gave him the most deadpan stare you could muster, smacking your lips together, "Okay…so why are their claws unhooked?" you asked next. You knew damn well at the seafood market; they had tied the crab's claws so they didn't get any funny ideas before they died.

"It felt too constricting for them," Rafayel said, "And as their leader, I needed to do what was right by my people,"

"Are you sure they chose you as their king?" you finally asked, "It looks more like you're going to be sacrificed," Rafayel's eyes widened. He placed a hand over his heart and gave you the most offended look he could muster.

"They would never," he gasped, now pouting with his lip jutting out. You looked down at the crabs and then back at him. Why were you even having this conversation in the first place? This was…was it too late to call a pizza place?

"Can you just…put them back in the pot and cook them, Raf?" you huffed. Rafayel looked away from you as he cleared his throat.

"So that's the issue," he said, "I don't wanna grab them. I tried before you arrived, and one snapped at me, and I don't know what to do now," oh so he was being held hostage by a bunch of crabs that should've been their damn dinner. "Can you help me out?" he said, doing his best puppy dog eyes for you.

You blinked slowly before sighing. You reach down to your thigh holster and pull out your gun, taking aim at the one directly in front of where Rafayel is standing. Before you could pull the trigger, you heard Rafayel screaming at you to stop, calling your name multiple times in a panic.

"Can you not?!" he shouted again, "You can't shoot them!" he said and looked at you like you were the crazy one here.

"It would solve the issue, wouldn't it?" You asked, "You were the one begging me for assistance, I came up with a solution, and now you're backing down," you huffed in annoyance, "Such beta bitch behavior,"

Rafayel was stunned to silence, but that only stopped him for a moment, "Did you call me a beta bitch?" he finally muttered, and you smirked.

"Uh ya? Now we either do this my way, or I'm going to chill in the living room and order pizza while you figure…" you motioned towards the floor, "This out."

"Call Thomas?" he finally asked, and you thought for a moment…why hadn't you considered doing that. You pulled out your phone and dialed the man's number, letting it ring a few times before he finally picked up. 

You heard him calling your name in a confused tone: "Hey, is there anything I can help you with?" He was always the professional one, it would seem.

"Thomas, we need help at the studio ASAP." you began, "And yes, this is an actual emergency this time," you didn't even let him reply as you got your phone and took a photo of the situation. "I'm sending over the situation,"

Thomas was silent as he checked out the image, and then suddenly, you heard a loud sigh and a click as he hung up. You paused and looked at the phone, then back over to Rafayel, "Well…looks like you're on your own, bye babes," you turned around and began your journey toward the living room.

You heard Rafayel shouting your name a few times, trying to get you to come back. He could figure it out. He got himself into this mess, and he can get himself out. You, however, would not be risking getting pinched by a crab today.

Imma be frfr I ain't touching live crabs. No freaking way. I am baby.

[rottmnt-residuum]

Any other LGBTQ+ Headcannons that are canon is the comic??;)

*patiently awaits Cupioromantic Donnie*

hmm... had to think about this for a while and talk about it with co-author, but here's what we got. we mostly base this stuff on how plausible it is in show/if there's evidence for it. with a dash of personal experience. This only applies to residuum, btw. I have different personal headcanons for these characters outside the comic.

april: lesbian. this is mostly based off of the fact that most aprils get with their caseys & the comment she said to dale. which could be taken as disinterest in dale specifically, but she seemed more concerned with impressing that popular girl earlier and that reads as more... saphic, i suppose. or at the very least homoromantic.

raph: raph is just raph. we look at him and basically just *tv static*. go crazy. all we got is jokes or stuff that has too little evidence to support. so, yeah, he's whatever you want him to be i guess?

leo: trans. already said my reason in the other post. also, gay. if gay were a power source he could power the entirety of the united states for five months straight without a single power outage. failing power grid notwithstanding (< thats the actual word. its supposed to be mushed together like that. wack.).

donnie: as much as i'd like him to be ace/aro spectrum rep, he just doesn't have the evidence in show for us to apply it to him in this comic. it's funny, for being hc as ace so often he sure is the most outwardly romantic/sexual turtle in the show lmao. one! cherry: "you're so cute, but you're so mean! why do i always go for your type?" two! astrogirl?? (whatever her name is) he is very very romantic with her. he has a type y'all. also just look at those two, he's a leg man lmao (bootyyshaker9000 anyone? ha!) anyway. and with the bromance/instant chemistry he had with that one guy in the purple dragons... Pan. or possibly Omni as he does seem to favor... cute brutal femme... Yeah. Omnisexual.

(you have no idea how fucking bad i want this boy to be ace spectrum. hes got the colors y'all!! The Colors!!!!! but alas... i am bound by my canon plausibility creed for this comic)

mikey: ace. possibly ace/aro. he shows interest in literally no-one. we're aware that the common hc is pan but... we know a pan 13 year old, and let me tell you ahahahaha, kids going through puberty are very uncomfortable to be around sometimes, especially around their partners. or crushes. and mikey... well, that boy is ace behavior personified lmao. aces in the back you get what we mean right?? right??? anyway commiting to aroace

[bloopitynoot]

Reading SVSSS: Chapter 1

For those who don't know, I am reading SVSSS for the first time and sharing my thoughts!

If you have not read it, there will be spoilers! Consider this a warning.

Also- if you want to follow along, I am aiming to post updates daily. You can find all the posts in the tag bloopitynoot reads SVSSS. You can also check out the intro post for context on my read.

Chapter 1: Scum

two seconds in an i'm already intrigued by the "anti-anti" dynamic. We have an anti-hero Luo Binghe and the "anti" fan Shen Yuan. p.9

honestly we live for a king like Shen Yuan though - bless those fans who make concise summaries in the epic fandoms. p.9

Fucking hell Luo Binghe :( p.10

Side note unrelated to the plot of this- the amount of page flips I have done to hit that guide at the back these first couple pages; outrageous.

in relation to point "Fucking hell luo binghe :(" even his teacher is Bullshit. p.10

ENDLESS ABYSS?! p 11

okay, but listen, is it truly the dark path if he's part demon? like isn't that the correct path for him? p.13

to clarify the previous point- I was rooting for him until he "began to eradicate each one of the human realm's great righteous sects" p.12

like okay, those who wronged him, totally fine- but everyone though?

crying at this authors name LOL p.12

I get it Shen Yuan- big same. I'd be pissed too (re: dying at the end of the shitty book) p.13

the RAGE of his dying breath oh no ahahahaha p.13

Shen Yuan has trained his entire life for this moment (re: transmigration) p.16

oh god "please ensure that no score falls below zero, or the system will automatically mete out punishment" p17

Well damn. I wouldn't want that either (re Shen Qingqiu's fate) p.19

this point system is WILD. Poor guy dies if he fails, jesus p.20

honestly same, if I was transmigrated into the body of a martial magic man, I would be checking out my new body too p. 23

YES. POINTS FOR PLOTHOLE RESOLITIONS!! p. 24

Shen Yuan/Shen Qingqiu: ERROR 404 p 26

okay thoughts: this is such a crazy role to navigate. he knows what's theoretically going to happen but he has to change the plot WITHOUT breaking character p.29

RE: ERROR 404. Super gross that he was having these thoughts about a CHILD. I did not know Luo Binghe IS FOURTEEN at this point. :( p.30

omg. he's (shen yuan/shen qingqiu) also over here talking about finding a girlfriend LOL p31.

i'm crying XD "Holy Shit" p.33

at least Shen Yuan is aware that Shen Qingqiu is NASTY. p.35

Ming Fan is vile too- SO rude. p.38

oh no, im nervous for Luo Binghe (re- his necklace and Ming Fan's squad) p. 40

okay but honestly he deserves it. He (shen yuan/shen qingqiu) just got points removed for the leaf thing and now he's over here doing it again. p.46

the SASS he (Shen yuan) is giving this system p.50

oh jeeze the fact that Shen Yuan/Shen Qingqiu is unlocking new content is STRESS. p55. Like he is barely surviving the plot, it's been like 10 minutes, and he's over here unlocking a side quest already

finding a loophole to help Luo Binghe- I love it! p59.

This concludes my first chapter!!! Hopefully I have a new chapter tomorrow

[timeslugarts]

Second Pass.

Part 2 of my Vera x Vox fic (part 1 is here)

A/N - Oh man, I wrote this ahahahaha I feel like I've been working in this forever! I'm so pleased, though. I hope all of you enjoy it! FINALLY Vox knows her name. No beta, and like tell me how I did? The nerves for posting my writings are always so high with me.💙💖

Nsfw 💖💙

It has been a week, ONE WEEK, and Vox was still scouring the databases for the bitch that took his wallet. She had taken his wallet, for fucks sake. His. Wallet. This was more than just whatever money was inside, but about the principle of the matter. Of he, a great Overlord of Hell couldn't keep sinners in line than what good was he. He had to find her and make her pay.

"Oi, Vox!" Velvette's clipped tone snapped him out of his reverie.

"Not now Velvette darling." Vox spoke smoothly, but unmistakably irritated.

"Oh, are you still trying to find that tasty little thing that played you?" Velvette smirked haughtily at him. "You know if you wanted help, all you had to do was ask?"

Vox turned to glare at Velvette over his shoulder, "do you know something?"

She grinned and leaned on his desk, "I may or may not have gotten my hands on the guest list from Val's secretary."

"Val doesn't know?"

"Of course not! What do you think I am, stupid? And that secretary definitely won't be saying anything anytime soon." Her grin was malicious now.

"Oh Velvette I could kiss you!"

"Ew."

Vox stood up as Velvette handed him the guest list. Handwritten, weird.

"Anyways, I need a favor, Val trashed my fabrics closet after last night's little Angel mishap, so I need a whole new."

"Oh absolutely, anything you need." Vox really wasn't listening, already scanning through the list of names and aliases until one stood out.

Spitfire Demon.

He just knew it had to be her. Quickly going over to one of his many computers he typed the name in, a shifty photo and vague details appeared before his eyes. The photo was unmistakably her, her little blue flames glowing brightly and mucking up the view.

The only note that really stood out to him was added by Val.

NEED.

Vox could only assume he meant as an actress. How long has Val known about this woman and why is Vox just now finding out about her? He was a media empire! He should have more dirt on her than this bullshit. Along with Val's note was a list of presumably bars. Shit like, The Inferno Room, Lucifer's Lounge, and of course The Shit Hole.

This seemed like as good of a place as any to start his search, it was only until the night grew dark that he decided to slip away and zip through the wires until he came to his first stop, The Inferno Room.

Vox dusted off his jacket before entering the bar.

Why is she always hanging out in these disgusting places?

He spotted her almost immediately back pressed against the bar and a man looming dangerously close. He had her arm in a vice and seemed to be pulling her to him. Her little flames fluttered angrily around the guy, maybe trying to push him away, but to no avail.

The jingle of the door gave Vox away, however the only person to look up was her. Recognition flitted across her features and instead of the shock he was hoping for, a coy smile took place on her lips instead.

"Oh dear," she tutted at the man, "I did tell you my boyfriend would be showing up." She gave a brief nod in Vox's direction. The sinner looked over his shoulder and saw for the first time Vox in all his glory.

He had to play this up, he had to be the one to teach her a lesson, not this random asshole. So, for the pure sake of entertainment, he put on his best debonair smile and looked at his little flame.

"Is this man bothering you my dear?" He said cooly, sliding up next to her.

"V-vox, Mr. Vox, uh sir." The sinner was very aware of who he was which made this little play all the more fun for him.

The asshole had thrown her hand down in a panic and took a hesitant step back. Instead of making a break for it, she surprised Vox by pressing herself against him, his arm instinctually wrapping itself around her waist. She smiled gently up at him and he felt his heart stutter. The words she spoke next got him even more excited.

"He absolutely is, sweetheart." She batted her lashes and he squeezed her tighter to him. It almost felt real, they felt insync, like an actual couple. His grin turned manic at her implications, his eye widening, the rings of mind control turned on the poor asshat who just happened to mess with the wrong girl at the wrong time.

"Wait no I-" but it was too late, the sinner had looked into Vox's eye and was trapped. Now he would do anything, eat off the floor, give him his watch, kill himself. Dumb minds were so susceptible to his little power, it's what made being an Overlord so easy here in Hell, everyone was so ready to put their faith in anything. Vox briefly glanced at the woman at his side.

Maybe he'd try this on her later.

For now, a bit of fun wouldn't hurt. "You heard the lady, dog, maybe you should try being less annoying and more entertaining. How about a dance?" And just like that the lowly sinner started to dance, arms flailing about, no sense of rhythm, just hopping up and down. Almost like a monkey.

"Oh, isn't that interesting." She purred at his side, Vox's chest swelled a little with pride at that. "Maybe we should have him take his clothes next?" She grinned, languidly stroking her fingers up and down his back making him shiver.

"You heard the lady." Vox nodded his head to the still dancing man who had begun to sweat. Before the words left his mouth the sinner, without stopping, began undressing in the middle of the bar.

He was attempting to take his pants off while still hopping and dancing about. He had fallen multiple times now, once face flat on the floor breaking his nose. Blood poured freely from his nostrils. He was covered in sweat and blood, tears leaked from his eyes, he was starting to look disgusting, Vox grimaced at the pathetic sight.

On que, as if reading his mind, his spitfire whispered, "This is getting a little boring don't you think? We have other more fun things to do." She grabbed his hand and laced her finger through his. Vox looked down at their hands, thoughts racing through his mind.

Wasn't he supposed to be doing this to her? Why was she so comfortable around him? What was he supposed to do?

With everything racing through his mind he finally landed on, it was just a wallet, and gripped her hand tighter and followed as she began to lead him out of the building.

Vox let himself have one stray look back at the sinner who was breathing so hard now, hyperventilation was probably right around the corner. He looked down at the woman next to him and blinked. The sound of a neck breaking mixed with the jingle of chimes could be heard as they pushed open the door and made their way outside.

"I know a lovely little place, hidden on the outskirts of town. Very quiet, perfect for a little rendezvous." She had walked ahead of him pulling him along.

Vox wasn't sure what he was doing. He really wasn't sure what was going on at all. He just killed someone because she batted her pretty eyes at him. He had no problems killing someone, but doing it so willingly for someone else just because they said please? What was that!?

He had to remember why he was here, this bitch took his wallet! Him! The Vox! One of the Vees!

They were approaching yet another grungy looking bar and Vox couldn't help but chuckle.

"Is something funny?" She twirled around to face him. Eyes bright, little flames dancing gently, an eyebrow arched.

Vox pushed her into the side of the building, caging her in with his arms. "Are you taking me here to rob me blind again? These gross bars seem to be your m/o."

Still she didn't seem startled; she only looked up at him through lidded eyes. Vox had to ignore the heat that went to his crotch.

"On the contrary kitten," she placed her hands on his chest. "I plan on paying you back." She took a finger and lightly traced the edge of his screen. Vox raised his own eyebrow to match.

"Lead the way." He whispered, breath already heavy with want. "This better be good, you stole quite a bit." He resumed his pace next to her.

"Oh hush, you have more than enough to make up for it being the great Vox of Voxtech after all. " She nudged him with her hip.

"So you did your research?" He asked, cocking a brow.

She laughed, it was musical, like bells. "Only after the fact," she grinned, "if it wasn't for your ID I wouldn't have thought otherwise."

"Can I have that back by the way? It's kind of important."

"Hmm," she tapped her chin in mock thought. "Only if you're good."

They pushed through the doors into the new bar, this one was filled with smoke and low music that thrummed in one's chest. She smiled and waved at the bartender who waved back.

Vox rolled his eyes, "is there a skeezy joint in town that you don't know?"

"I only know the good ones, the ones with dark corners for sharing dark secrets." She grinned, pushing him into a small room.

There wasn't time for questions, the wallet was the last thing on Vox's mind as he stumbled on to the small bed.

She locked the door and turned the lights low, her flames brilliantly shining in the dim lights. Her ponytail was the first to go, instead of falling around her shoulders the blue of her hair gently wafted around her, almost like a halo.

Her black dress fell to her ankles and Vox had to stop himself from choking. Her pink flesh was so tantalizing and the lacey black undertakings she wore were just begging to be torn to shreds. If she had used his money to buy them he couldn't even be mad, they looked so good on her.

"Your turn." She whispered as she straddled him, fingers making their way to his bowtie and slowly undoing the knot. Once that had slipped from his neck and onto the ground she began shrugging him out of his jacket which she unceremoniously threw to the floor. The tightness in his pants had started to become uncomfortable, she was moving so slowly. He decided to help, moving his hands to quickly undo the buttons.

She slapped his hands lightly. "Ah ah ah, I told you I was going to pay you back. So just relax." She replaced his hands with her own and began working her way down. With each little bit of his skin that appeared she would kiss it gently.

Vox laid his head back and tried to steady his breathing. Sex with Val was fast and rough, it was almost like a business transaction in it of itself, they only ever fucked if one of them needed relief. To have someone move so slow and touch him so softly was making his heart race.

After removing his shirt she finally, finally, got to the button on his pants. His dick was so hard by now it was embarrassing, the tent in pants was very visible and she licked her lips at the sight.

"It would seem you definitely need someone to take care of you darling."

"I absolutely do not need any-" he groaned as she grabbed at him through the fabric. The pressure finally gave him some relief.

"What were you saying?"

"Fuck-zt you." He panted out. She popped the button on his trousers and paused, raising an eyebrow and looking up at him.

"Shut up!" He blushed, his boxers clearly visible with tiny TVs peppering the fabric.

"I think it's cute." She cooed. Anything Vox was about to say got stuck in his throat as his dick finally sprung free. Rock hard and leaking precum the cold air causing him to his.

She lowered her head and placed a gentle kiss on the tip. Tongue swirling around and lapping up the precum that had spilled. Vox inhaled sharply. Her hand grabbed the base of his cock as she licked a long stripe from the bottom to the top before taking him in her mouth in one fluid motion. Instinctually he bucked up into her mouth. She felt so fucking good, so warm and wet.

He groaned as she tightened her grip and began sucking him off.

Fuck she was really good at this part. The feeling of her tongue moving around him in her mouth, the movement from her hand. Her other hand was wrapped around his hip, keeping him in his place. His claws were on either side of him, tearing at the sheets, as he moaned and panted.

The slurping noises she was making were so lewd and the way she was looking at him, Satan alive he had no control over himself. Before the band could snap she removed herself, Vox whined at the loss.

"Tut tut, no whining here," she climbed on top of him, legs stretched on either side of him, "momma's here to take care of you." A slight snap of her hips had him groaning, the friction was too good.

He looked at her through a hazy of lust, drool dribbled down her chin, Vox lazily lifted his hand and wiped it away with his thumb. She wrapped her hands around his own, pulling his thumb over to her mouth and sucking on the digit.

"God you're so hot." He continued to move his thumb so traced the shape of her plush lips, so black and soft. She leaned into the touch hair spilling over to the side, he reached his claws out to touch the blue fires only to find that it was soft and warm. It didn't hurt at all.

He was so focused on the feel of her hair that when she pushed down on his dick he let out a pathetic choked moan. He could only be embarrassed for a second before she started rolling her hips against him. He could feel himself throbbing inside her, the delicious stretch of her walls around him. He may be stuck in Hell, but he could pretend that Heaven felt like this.

She picked up the pace and started to bounce on his lap. He let out a garbled, "close." His breathing was labored, his screen was glitching and small sparks of electricity were flying off of him.

As she continued to move her hips she leaned over and whispered "Alright, now be good for me and cum, don't worry, I can take it all."

That sent Vox so far over the edge. He could feel himself release inside of her, filling her up, her walls clenching around his dick as she came with him. She moaned and he swore it was the most beautiful sound he's ever heard.

They were panting, she was leaning over him breathing into his shoulder the warmth from her breath dancing over him. His claws stroked her sides as also tried to calm himself down. Lifting her leg and tucking her body into his, she snuggled close. Vox wrapped his arm around her as they lay quietly, her fingers tracing nonsensical shapes on his chest. It was nice, peaceful.

A little blue flame danced into his sight, Vox stuck his hand out and it zipped in between his fingers finally hovering lightly over his palm. Just like her hair it was warm and soft, almost like a thick mist.

"What even are these?" He whispered in the dim lighting.

She only yawned in return and snuggled deeper, "I'll tell you about them some other time."

If his head had been with him he would've understood the implications of that statement, but instead all he did was hum in acknowledgement. His eyes were heavy, and his little blue flame was already asleep at his side. He looked down at her sleeping form, her hair gently drifting about her face. Her small fires had died down, only producing a subtle light, as if they too were sleeping. Vox pulled the covers so they were underneath them making sure they were comfortable and snug. Vox grinned to himself as he slowly drifted off next to his little flame.

When he awoke he was almost disappointed to find the bed was empty, but he couldn't say he was surprised.

After finding almost all his clothes he noticed on the bedside table was his wallet, and on his wallet a hastily scribbled note.

Borrowed your jacket, promise I'll give it back next time

XOXO Vera

And underneath that was a phone number. Vox looked hard at the note.

Vera.

He finally knew her name. His little blue flame, his Vera.

[asukaskerian]

peddling svsss (spoilers abound)

lovingthatofficeyfeel: ok. Now try to sell me on SVSSS because I read the summary and go 'nope, nope, nope icky power dynamics do not want, nooooope' because if it is not that I am also amenable (Book summary: "Half-demon Luo Binghe rose from humble beginnings and a tortured past to become unrivaled in strength and beauty. With his harem of over three hundred wives, and dominion over both the human and demonic realms, he is truly the most powerful protagonist—in a trashy web novel series!

At least, that's what Shen Yuan, online alias "Peerless Cucumber," believes as he finishes reading the final chapter in Proud Immortal Demon Way. But when a combination of rage and a poor meal choice leads to his death, Shen Yuan finds himself reborn into the world of the web novel, in the body of Shen Qingqiu—the beautiful but cruel teacher to a young Luo Binghe.

Although as Shen Qingqiu, he now has incredible power and abilities as a cultivator, he’s destined to be horrifically punished for crimes against the protagonist, so this new Shen Qingqiu has only one course of action: get into Luo Binghe’s good graces before the young man’s rise to power. That’s the only way he’ll escape the awful fate of a true scum villain!")

lovingthatofficeyfeel: ^ like based on that summary, I would never read that light novel on my own

Askerian: oh man yeah it makes it sound like grooming as fuck Askerian: grooosssss

lovingthatofficeyfeel: exactly! lovingthatofficeyfeel: its like this for most of the danmei!

Askerian: it's not like that at ALL

lovingthatofficeyfeel: which is why I want to know why people like it so much

Askerian: ok first of all, the guy he's stuck inside of is a high ranking ice bitch, so he has to speak that way too, BUT! he's a huge nerd inside! Askerian: the contrast between the speech and the narration is sometimes completely hilarious Askerian: also. his screen name peerless cucumber is a dick joke. and the book author's airplane shooting toward the sky is also a dick joke Askerian: this guy is the kind of oblivious demisexual who will read a 600+ chapters harem story for the worldbuilding

Askerian: and the protagonist! he LOVES the main character, so he also looks favorably upon him getting everything life owes him including sex, he supposes, but! none of his wives LOVE HIM PROPERLY. hm. let's flame the author over that. Askerian: anyway so then he lands himself in the body of a teacher to a 14 year old abused kid. who is a kid! and a very adorable kid. yeee time to spoil the shit out of him Askerian: the issue there is that there's a system/game manager forcing plot points and assigning quests and no matter what he does some things must happen, such as his betraying his poor clingy baby student so that he can rise magnificently from a hell dimension and take his place as a demon king Askerian: so when his adorable little student comes back Pissed and starts doing things that look very similar to what happened in the book just before murdering his evil teacher, he starts running. but he also really wants to help his student survive and even thrive! but also, not die in the process PLEASE.

Askerian: meanwhile luo binghe went from abused by sensei to spoiled by sensei to "i will marry sensei when i grow up" to "STOP RUNNING FROM ME AND EXPLAIN"

Askerian: main character can't explain, btw. he'd die.

lovingthatofficeyfeel: ahahahahahahah OMG lovingthatofficeyfeel: see THIS, this is my shit lovingthatofficeyfeel: this sounds freaking God Tier hijinks humour

Askerian: it's so damn fun XD

lovingthatofficeyfeel: you should write the summaries for seven seas' danmei books

Askerian: also the System sells "small scenario pushers" for points Askerian: guy "what's that, ok, let's buy, maybe it'l save my life" => WHY DID I END UP HALF NAKED AND DRENCHED Askerian: luo binghe : hhhhhhh 🍆

lovingthatofficeyfeel: ahahahaha omg, wet hanfu Saves Lives XD

Askerian: shen yuan: idk what distracted him but time to run Askerian: luo binghe: D:< wAIT STOP BEING NAKED AROUND MY LOVE RIVALS shen yuan: oh no he wants to kill me twice as much Askerian: he's Oblivious (tm)

lovingthatofficeyfeel: omg. 'oblivious demi-sexual keeps running away from future-demon-king trying to seduce him'

Askerian: yiss

lovingthatofficeyfeel: this is a fanfic plot in the best way

Askerian: YISS. Askerian: i kinda love luo binghe's character too tbh. he's so nice! but he's such a yandere sometimes Askerian: i mean, nice. :X Askerian: "my fantasy life is to be my master's little housewife and i will burn down the world to make it happen" dude :X

lovingthatofficeyfeel: honestly, good on him for having balanced life goals XD

Askerian: as a kid he's adorable but also already "i hear what you said! i understand it! gonna do what i felt was right tho" Askerian: after he's been given unconditional love by sensei!!!!! but also betrayed by sensei!!! he doesnt know which way is up anymore. it's kinda clear that in the book he was from, his original version was using "seduction and sex with this random new girl that will disappear from the plot in five chapters" to paper the holes Askerian: like, couldn't trust anybody's love because he never had any, but desperately needed it. Askerian: this one's had a taste before, and doesn't know what he must have done to lose it, but he will fix it!! but only sensei will do Askerian: main character keeps expecting him to hook up with dozens of girls and it never happens and he's ?? while also totally missing all the admirers HE is gathering Askerian: also issues because he's a half demon, and sensei said he thought good demons must exist, but he was still rejected on reveal, so does that mean "there can be good demons but you're not one" Askerian: and since he's naturally smooth and it easily goes into manipulation, everything he does or say, sensei takes it as some underhanded threat or plot! he was a demon king in the book ok?! Askerian: book him was NOT nice Askerian: anyway a REALLY fun read

Askerian: though don't expect the sex scene to be good because it's a half-feral "fixing you via magic sex" and he canonically has huge meat :X Askerian: and since he has ZERO experience it uh, goes badly Askerian: tbh the author's gift does not lie with sexy porn

but tbf the point of the scene was NOT to be sexy, soooo...

[herejusttosufferalong]

Hello, SEX anon again.

Fuck me, do we need another distraction? Like a really loud, sexually laced one? I feel like it's a good time, no? YUP. Bend over, let's do this. I'm gonna take this to some strange places, ok? It's what the situation demands, I'm afraid... some of us have turned to cannibalism, and the only meat I want to be chomping on is... so, yeah... like, if you need to get some holy water, rosary beads... uhm I'd suggest doing that now. Skedaddle. QUICK.

Firstly, I must explain my absence. Something needed to be done. I did it, I goddamn did it. I sat my partner down and I told him how the Queen got me thinking... pondering. Questioning. Too much fingerling potatoes and lips and ta-tas altering my mind chemistry. You feel me? You picking up what I'm putting down? No? Ok, cool, me too. Well. I didn't know how that would go down. Well. Let's just say some men really like that shit. Well. What day are we even at? Well. Who am I, even? Thank you, my Queen, you've opened me up like Pandora's box, my partner is forever grateful. And wherever you go, I will follow, and whatever you say, I will do, and whatever you are, I will be, and whatever... just. God you're pretty. And if you say Mr. Men is A-OKAY, I will believe you, with my very soul, because you see all and heal all and. God you're attractive. And if you say he's a good boy, and if you say he's good to women, and if you say... whatever you fkn say I will worship those words that come from thine mouth. Without question. Without pause. MY FKN QUEEN. And I can't stop looking at his thighs in jeans, for god sake, let that man be healed, because I will drop to my knees my Queen. THIC. BULGING. Delicate hands tracing up his... Glory be. Lie down? Bitch, tell me where. Too strong? Nah, just enough.

So yeah, that was that. I heard L&N watched fingerling potatoes episode with the whole cast. HAH. You see the photo? L&N in the middle, no one beside them, looking like teenagers caught kissing in dad's old station wagon. Fkn lol. Who comes up with this shit? Who thought, yeah so let's get your colleagues together and as a group watch you guys finger bang, kissing moans, loud fkn moans, needed to play Pit Bull so loud to drown out the sex moans? And there's everyone watching, mouths agape, thinking shit are we watching... are we intruding on? Oh, you didn't hear cut? Oh, you got a hickey? Oh, well... That happens... uhm... sometimes. No never to me personally, or anyone I know, or ever heard of in my life.. But, uhm. Cough. You guys are great, wow. FUCK. No wonder everyone was squirming when asked about it on the red carpet. Can you imagine? Mhmm, YUP. Zones out for a sec. I mean, gee wiz, next you'll be hearing they got Queen's wee Catholic mum to watch her daughter get cherry popped by Mr. Men amongst a rabid group of horny little devil stans. AHAHAHAHA... oh wait... Shonda, what's wrong with you?

Yo, was that good enough? You good? Let go of the tension? Frustration? Slutty smirk. I fkn love this universe.

💜🥃

Welcome back 😘

[celestiaras]

*waddles over to your blog to see how you're doing and sees requests are open*

WOWZERS LEMME JUST-

May I request a Vezalius Bandage x reader with haha semi-public bang schmang? Like there's people who can hear and he's just doesn't care and wants relief after a hard day's work yk what I mean hah ah ahahahaha I misses you princess hope you're doing fantasimal

━━━ .°˖✧ requested by @thechaoticplayer ˚₊ ⊹

ft. vezalius bandage x f! reader — krisis, nijisanji en

╰₊✧ fucking you in the office because he couldn’t wait until the day was over┊0.6k words

contains: smut!! dom zali & sub reader┊semi-public & exhibitionism, established relationship, piv & wall sex

➤ author's note: this one is pretty short, but i’m also planning a hex fic for you so look out for that :)

“god, what’s gotten into you today?” you gasp, skirt and panties haphazardly hanging by your ankles and blouse wrinkled as zali presses you against the smooth surface of the wall, pressing kisses all along your exposed neck while relentlessly rutting into you. your feet weren’t even touching the ground, supported by his arms and his quick-paced thrusts that prevented you from slipping.

he hummed in response, looking at you with adoring, lust-filled eyes. “not sure… you just look so pretty today…” you don’t have a clue what he’s talking about when you haven’t done anything different, and he doesn’t either. he spent most of his time trying to figure out if you changed your makeup or the way you did your hair, but he gave up after spending most of the daying staring at you. he doesn’t need to explain why he’s suddenly so horny for his beautiful girlfriend nor does he need a reason to want pin you down and fuck you senseless, all he knows is that he can’t wait until the day was over to have you.

despite being so enveloped in pleasure at the moment, the possibility of getting caught was also at the forefront of your mind. it was the middle of the day in the office and everyone else was getting lunch when zali pulled you into his cubicle for some fun, someone could walk in at any moment for any reason and hear the squelching sounds of sex nearby.

when you make your concern known and mention that it needs to be quick, he’ll just smirk charmingly and tell you that you should work on keeping down all those cute noises escaping from your mouth then. curse this man’s smooth talking and hot french accent, knowing that it was impossible to keep it down when his cock was continuously bullying your sweet spot with rehearsed precision and made stars spark behind your eyes. 

what happens when two certain heroes walk in, chatting about something or other without a clue about the sinful activity happening so close by? well, you haven’t noticed yet since you’re overwhelmed with bliss and thinking about nothing else that isn’t your approaching climax, but zali certainly did and didn’t care enough to stop. he and his girl just need some relief after a long day of doing menial paperwork about missions— there’s nothing wrong with that.

in fact, he might even make it more noticeable and exaggerate his movements to make sure that they hear who is fucking the prettiest person in the office so well, the one whose voice they hear every day and can clearly tell is the owner of the lovely moans filling the air. the snap of his hips became more pronounced and he relished the feeling of your nails digging into his skin through the fabric of his shirt as you cream around his cock, allowing him to follow suit at the way the walls of your cunt fluttered around him to pull him deeper and practically milking him.

through your shared heavy breathing, he could hear whispering and rushed footsteps quickly becoming fainter. closing his eyes and giving you a gentle kiss on the lips, a feeling of satisfaction bloomed within him before he carried you off to the bathroom to clean you up.

you’re none the wiser about why wilson was blushing so hard and why vanta was struggling to meet your eyes, but zali simply adjusts the back of your skirt discreetly and smiles with a hand wrapped possessively around your waist. maybe later today when everyone goes out to dinner and drinks for another successful week of saving the city, he’ll make your relationship public. while two of them won’t be shocked, everyone else is going to be so pleasantly surprised at the news.

[sprout-fics]

Woodsmoke (Joel Miller x F! Reader x Joe 'Bear' Graves)

Chapter Two: Smoke

Masterlist

Rating: Mature (Rating will change) Word Count: 7k Warnings: Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault (Non-explicit) Tags: Character Study, Angst (Literally so much angst), AU- Canon divergence, Sheep Farmer Joel Miller, Patrolman Joe 'Bear' Graves, Domesticity, PTSD, Night Terror, Cuddling by a campfire, Touch starvation, Unrequited pining, Complicated emotional relationships Also it's been literally four months since I posted the first chapter Jesus fuck I'm so sorry ahahahaha

Summary:

Bear, by contrast, is a the bright, licking heat of a campfire. The gentle glow of him in the distance brings you closer, beckons your cold hands into the warmth of him. You bask in the entrancing flicker of him, watch with glinting eyes the dance of the flames, unable to look away. It tugs something in your chest that wants more but knows that if you reach your hands into the flare that you might somehow breathe in the flames, allow him to burn the hollow of your ribs to make space there just for him.

It takes time for you to notice, but you see the way Bear holds himself in his frustration, in the vague mentions of before that you hear Caulder and the others murmur about in hushed tones. There's something in Bear that has been broken long ago, and the pain of it threatens to bubble to the surface, snap like the sudden crack of a log that sends sparks scattering up into the nighttime sky. It's a dangerous, searing thing that he refuses to show to you no matter how much it consumes him. A ferocious, burning brightness that sets himself ablaze to keep others warm, even if it means turning to cinders as a result.

Instead, he sets his gaze upon you. You see embers dance in the darkness of his pupils, a hypnotizing temptation that you want to touch even though it might singe the edges of your soul. The presence of him threatens to burn your world to ashes, if only so he can lift you from the carnage and into his hands, cradle you there until you surrender to him.

It takes weeks for you to approach these strange new men in the place you call home.

Joel offers them the house on the hill, on the other side of the valley. You watch from the kitchen as he invites the men inside the house, keeps them corralled to the living room and away from you, sheltering in the kitchen. Your hands, damp with soap and water, tremble from the presence of strangers, of armed men, of the threat of danger-

Yet Joel's voice wafts from the doorway. Low, even, like the slow, murmuring crackle of a fire against your too cold palms. The warmth draws away the chill of your memories, the ones where silhouettes in the dark reach for you with grasping hands. You focus instead on the sound of his voice, feel your shoulders shift and sink, reminding yourself that even in the presence of these strangers, Joel will keep you safe. He always will.

Eventually you peek from the archway as the conversation continues, carefully observe the men who Joel has entrusted to keep the farm safe.

There's four of them. Two sit with their backs to you, one of them with his back turned towards you, his dark skin cast in warmer hues by the fireplace beside him. To his left is his thinner, wiry comrade. You saw him look at you from his horse, face calm but eyes sharp. Ready as you stood trembling with the shotgun in your hands. He seems to hear you behind him, casting a brief gaze over his shoulder as if checking behind him before he faces forward again. The motion draws the attention of his friend, who makes a larger effort to glance at you, offering a kind smile that you briefly return.

Across from the two of them, Chase and Fish, you later learn their names are, is a man who appears so much younger than he truly is. He looks almost boyish despite the flecks of grey beginning in his curly, dusty blonde hair. Caulder, you're told later, doesn't glance at you, instead focused unwaveringly on Joel, who speaks in low, serious tones with the man seated beside him.

Bear.

Bear sits with his arms crossed, feet planted and legs spread. Whereas Joel bends forward, his elbows on his knees in contemplation, Bear looks alert, observant, ready for motion at the drop of a hat as he leans back, arms crossed. He regards Joel silently as he speaks, listens respectfully with little nods and noises of affirmation. When he does speak, his voice is a low, dragging mumble that has you sometimes struggle to make out the words. Yet there's a steadiness to his tone, an unflinching resolution that's reassuring in the face of the danger posed to you all.

It's only when Joel looks away for a brief moment towards one of the other men that Bear looks up at you from under thick eyebrows, the lines near his eyes wrinkling in a gentle, entreating smile.

You feel your heart thump in your chest a little louder, trying to decipher apprehension from the vague stir of interest at the kindness that glints against blue eyes.

Eventually the men stand, and Bear clasps his hand against Joel's in some sort of agreement you can't make out. They shuffle outside, and you hover at the door of the kitchen, a touch nervous, as they each give you a small nod or 'ma'am' as they pass. Bear brings up the rear, once more pauses, draws your eyes up to his taller form.

"You let us know if you need anything, yeah?" He offers, voice a low, soothing murmur that feels all too much like autumn wind through the shade of the forest.

You only nod at him, once more feel that strange stirring in your chest, one that almost wants to reach out, ask more of him that you know how to.

He leaves, and you watch from the window of the front door as the four of them set about tending to their horses, leading them up the hill and towards the barn nestled next to the pastures.

Joel stands with his hand on the frame of the door until they've left the perimeter of the house before turning to you. You blink at the wrinkle of his brow, the thin, taut line of his lips that you know to be displeasure.

"You don't have to talk to those boys if you don't want to, understand?" He tells you, and you watch his scarred hand curl on the wooden plane of the door. "If they make problems, you let me know."

You nod at that, still a little unsettled by Joel's tone, the way he seems to both trust and distrust these men he's summoned. Yet when you listen to the echo of his words in your thoughts, you realize there's something there you almost missed. Something that almost sounds possessive.

Yet then you watch Joel's shoulder sink all of a fraction, his fist drop from the door as he carefully closes the distance between you. His hand is warm when it lands on your shoulder, familiar and welcome. Even though he doesn't speak, there's words conveyed there that you understand in the absence of his voice.

We'll be okay. I've got you. I trust you.

Please trust me too.

----

You avoid them.

Bear bypasses Joel’s offer of the desolate house atop the other side of the valley, says it’s better to be close to the barn. They set up camp in the hayloft, the four of them crammed together in such a way that there's scantly any space between them. It helps, you think. The nights get frigid in the shadow of the valley, and more than one night you think about how they might be cold, might be sore from the wooden planks under their backs. It's not comfortable by any means, the barn is drafty and musky with the scent of the horses and manure. Yet you don't hear a single word of complaint from them in the mornings from the group aside from a grumble or a grunting stretch. There's a hardiness, a drive and resolve to them that you both recognize and are unfamiliar with.

They're different from the FEDRA soldiers. They're humble, respectful, and don’t use their positions as armed guards to sway you or intimidate you. Yet there's some recollection in your memory of the way they shove playfully at each other, the appreciation they have for their weapons, the way they snap to attention when given instructions. The glint of focus, of something dangerous and intense in their gazes has you maintain a berth when you can, heart murmuring in caution at the unknowable things in their eyes.

You wonder who they all were before this.

You try not to think about it too much.

Joel puts them to work soon after they arrive, and you're surprised by the shortlist of tasks he gives them, as if he's been waiting for the extra help. There's repairs made to the roof, fences mended in the disused pasture, the well is dug deeper, and you soon find even your chores being assisted with. The men grumble at first about the labor, but a firm word from Bear has them shrug, set about aiding where they can. It's a welcome help, and you can't deny the relief at having some more time to yourself as a result.

If Joel sees you drape extra blankets on the ladder to the hayloft, he doesn't say anything.

You pass your new guests throughout the day, still trying to make yourself scarce where you can. They're rowdy with each other, words sometimes a little too biting and caustic for comfort. More than once you come into the barn to see them boyishly tugging at each other, only to freeze when they spot you. You wonder if maybe you make them uncomfortable with your skittishness around them.

When they do approach you, however, it's always with good intentions, offers of assistance in the task you've set out with. You see Bear always watching them from the corner of his eye as they near you, ready to step in at the moment you shy away. It happens more than once, at least in the beginning, and it's Bear's firm hand on the shoulder of one of his men that alerts them, tugs them away from your nervous, shifting stance.

Always, there's an apology on his lips, a careful offering that has you meet his gaze once more.

You think the blue of his eyes looks like a gentle summer rainstorm.

The men take shifts once darkness begins to fall. There's a smaller camp set up at the top of the valley, in the vein that runs between the hills. It's simple. A tent, a campfire, and a loaded gun to fire into the darkness of the valley below in case of an attack. You look to the orange haze of the fire at night, high up on the rise. You stand, watching it sometimes from the porch, a shawl wrapped around your shoulders, praying the fire doesn't go out, that raiders don't descend into this place you've come to call home.

Joel sits outside with you some nights, doing much the same, as if he himself doesn't entirely trust the soldiers he's hired to properly warn you all of danger. Yet when the hour grows late he suggests, in that gruff and stubborn way of his, that you go inside and sleep.

You do and try not to think of the memory of a bonfire licking at the stars and the screams of others in the freeze of a winter forest. The phantom sound of the shotgun haunts your dreams, waiting for the moment it will crack like the sound of thunder and rain chaos down on you all.

When morning comes, it's quiet once more.

It's on one of those quiet mornings that you run into Bear.

The forest path is soddened from the drizzle of the night before, the world still muted and grey as the last of the rain moves through the mountains. Sunlight weaves its way through the canopy of trees and overcast clouds, dappling bright for mere moments before it's shielded once more. You walk under it, further into the woods where Joel's animal traps lay, where kindling lays against the bases of trees, knocked loose by the storm. You gather the damp branches idly, gingerly checking the snares that yield little success in the over-picked glade.

It's the small bit of pale color in the corner of your vision that makes you pause, turn to examine the strange flora that sprouts from the remains of a rotted log. Mushrooms, the kind untouched by the apocalypse, reclusive and now rare. Their small, ridged, white caps poke from the deciduous ground, and as you gently pad over, kneel with your legs in the soft, damp earth to examine them, you can't help but wonder if they're edible.

You reach for them, dirt smeared fingers outstretched, eyes enraptured by the silent, strange symbolism of them.

The snap of a branch behind you.

You gasp, twist so violently you fall on your bottom, kindling spilling and fingers fumbling for the knife at your waist to whatever predator has stalked you through these woods. You draw it up with a trembling grasp, holding the blade outwards even as your arms try to draw into yourself as a shield from danger.

You expect a wolf, or perhaps a mountain lion or lynx. Yet standing before you is none of those things. Instead, it's a man, standing at a distance, his hands held up in a gentle entreaty, brow furrowed in concern. His looming stature towers over your fallen form, eyes gentle as he realizes he's startled you.

It occurs to you then, in gazing into his blue-eyed stare, that you know this man.

"Bear." You breathe at last, muscles loosening. Yet even then you don't tuck away the blade entirely, lowering it enough for Bear to ease his stance, wet his lips before he speaks.

"I- uhm, didn't mean to startle you." He offers, and still does not yet lower his hands from either side of his head in surrender, keeping them well away from the rifle slung over his shoulder. "I was doing a patrol, thought maybe you heard me coming."

You blink, and his soft, rumbling voice manages to slow your stammering heartbeat. The cool, damp earth presses into your lower back, with you braced against the rotten log like it can somehow provide you shelter.

When you don't speak, Bear's eyes flicker to the mushrooms you were so close to touching, and there's a flicker of amused disbelief that tugs the corner of his mouth, makes a single eyebrow raise.

"...Sure you want to eat those?" He tries to joke, and the humor should relax you but it doesn't. Instead, with Bear's massive form standing over you a distance away, your mind summons memories of a dark figure backlit by a roaring campfire, the glint of a blade held in his hand. He steps towards you in your memories, even as you scramble backwards in the snow, feet kicking uselessly as he advances on you-

"You alright?"

Bear's voice breaks the memory, and your eyes flicker up to his once more, seeing the confusion and concern etched across his gaze.

You try to speak, you do, but instead your mouth opens and closes uselessly, hands shaking as you try to erase the hands that reach for you, haul a knife far above your fallen form-

Bear must see the panic written across your gaze- something foreign to him that chokes the moist air from your chest and threatens to send you drowning in your own thoughts, into a memory which has no end.

"Hey." He offers quietly, and as you try to control the mounting gasp of panic inside you Bear gentles himself, remains steadfast, softening at the edges under your eyes. "Hey, look at me."

You watch as he sinks lower, keeping his eyes on yours all the while to see any fear his movements spawn in you. Yet you watch as Bear goes down to one knee, makes himself smaller, less intimidating. He's still not quite at your height, but it's fairly close, and he no longer stands above you, dwarfing you with his size.

Whatever he sees in your gaze, it must be enough for him to understand, because his shoulders ease, and he exhales a soft sigh through his nose. The beard partially covers the tight, concerned draw of his mouth as he regards you like an injured animal, fearful and in need of aid.

"It's alright" He offers in a rumble that reminds you of the clearing rainstorm above, dampening the soft earth under your form. "I'm not going to hurt you."

It's the tone of his voice, more so than his words, that allows the tremble in your hands to abate, lets your grasp fall to your lap as it holds the blade Joel gifted to you.

"I didn't mean to scare you." He tells you again, and there's something akin to regret in his eyes. It's enough to make you blink, to make the memory of a silhouette gently wash away from your thoughts.

The air in your chest loosens, and you swallow, remember how to breath. When Bear watches you force yourself to exhale, long and slow, there's a smile that crinkles the corner of his eyes.

He doesn't coo over you, doesn't offer praise or patronize you the way so many others have before in response to your terror. Instead he remains where he is, the offer from him silent but transcending words.

Come to me when you're ready. I'll wait.

As the rainstorm at last lifts from the heavens, you see Bear in a new, radiant light.

---

It's a gradual process, the closing of the distance between you and Bear.

It's caught in the moments in between, the morning greetings that slowly turn into conversations, the offerings of favors that are returned in kind. You leave breakfast for the boys in a basket on the steps to the hayloft- bread, boiled eggs, some milk, a tin of coffee and cups to match. It's simple fare, and you at the beginning leave it and then dart away before they can thank you. Yet soon you find Bear awaiting you when you arrive just after dawn, sitting on the ladder and a weary but pleased smile on his lips. The soft 'Thank you's turn into exchanges about chores, about the day ahead, and soon transform into other things entirely.

You find yourself liking his company. Bear has a gravity to him that feels like the pull of a riptide at your feet, dragging you further into the sound of his voice. Yet it doesn't push you under, doesn't force waves crashing above your head. Instead, you simply float in the goodness of him, and often wonder about the things that lurk beneath.

You see it sometimes in the way he talks with his men, the steeliness of his eyes that changes into flinty resolve at the mere mention of danger. Unblinking, acute, nearly cataclysmic. It startles you the first few times you see it, when there's a noise that's too loud in the distance, the sound of an animal crying out in surprise or pain. Whereas you are jumpy, nervous at the same things, Bear spins, muscles coiled and tense, ready at any moment to attack, defend, conquer.

Once, while you two linger outside the barn one morning, you hear Caulder shout as he descends down the hill. You don't even have time to process it before Bear has one arm pushing you behind him, against the wall of the barn, the words he was rumbling a mere heartbeat ago now dead in his throat. There's a hand on his pistol, and when you grasp his arm in surprise he seems not to notice you, eyes glinting but dark in their intensity. You don't see him breathe until his gaze lands on Caulder, who rights himself from a short tumble down the steep slope with a curse and a kick at a stray rock.

You wonder about the things Bear has seen, the things he's done to warrant that look in his eyes. Ready to sear the world to ashes at a moment's notice, drown himself in the smoke that spills from his open, scarred palms.

You sometimes wonder if it will burn you too if you get too close.

Bear is gentle with you, that much is obvious. There's an interest there, as if he's found a beautiful, wild creature in the woods, is trying not to scare you off. He allows you to come to him, lets himself be open and ready to see you take a step forward. It's familiar to you, somehow, reminds you in some ways of a pair of almost sorrowful brown eyes that feel like cinders flickering against your gaze.

Yet the more time you begin to spend around Bear, the more Joel becomes quieter, withdrawn. There's an odd pinch to his face you catch sometimes when you mention Bear, a tight draw of his lips that speaks of emotions he'll never say out loud. It's hard to tell if he's just concerned for you, if he doesn't entirely trust Bear, or if there's still secrets inside him he refuses to show you. Sometimes he turns from you after you've disagreed with him on something, and you catch only a glimpse of the hurt lurking under his gaze.

You want to draw him back to you, want the familiar feeling of the two of you in mutual, comfortable silence as the fire burns in the hearth come evening. Yet when you dare to reveal the barest sliver of your heart, your worries and doubts to Joel, his voice instead meets you with that gruff, distant tone that hides the true confines of his barely mended heart. He's too afraid to let you get closer, too scared of being broken again, even if he refuses to tell you the thing that did it in the first place.

Joel is your shelter, you think. He's the canopy of the forest that shields you from the driving rain, the trees that offer a solemn, needed silence from the chaos of your thoughts. You walk alongside him, feel the shifting silence of him like the rustle of branches. The calm, protective respite of him allows you a grace you desperately need, a place to nestle the hurt fringes of your soul. Yet the deep loom of shadows that lurk in the woods feels so much like the hidden words that you can see scarcely concealed in his gaze.

There's mysteries left in him you'll never understand.

Bear, by contrast, is a the bright, licking heat of a campfire. The gentle glow of him in the distance brings you closer, beckons your cold hands into the warmth of him. You bask in the entrancing flicker of him, watch with glinting eyes the dance of the flames, unable to look away. It tugs something in your chest that wants more but knows that if you reach your hands into the flare that you might somehow breathe in the flames, allow him to burn the hollow of your ribs to make space there just for him.

It takes time for you to notice, but you see the way Bear holds himself in his frustration, in the vague mentions of before that you hear Caulder and the others murmur about in hushed tones. There's something in Bear that has been broken long ago, and the pain of it threatens to bubble to the surface, snap like the sudden crack of a log that sends sparks scattering up into the nighttime sky. It's a dangerous, searing thing that he refuses to show to you no matter how much it consumes him. A ferocious, burning brightness that sets himself ablaze to keep others warm, even if it means turning to cinders as a result.

Instead, he sets his gaze upon you. You see embers dance in the darkness of his pupils, a hypnotizing temptation that you want to touch even though it might singe the edges of your soul. The presence of him threatens to burn your world to ashes, if only so he can lift you from the carnage and into his hands, cradle you there until you surrender to him.

You find yourself drawn to it anyways. You feel the frost and cold embrace of your dreams chased away by the too-bright flicker of his warmth. While Joel keeps you safe, shelters you, it's Bear who melts the remnants of frostbite from your weary spirit, opens you up into the warmth of sunlight.

There's a night where you awake in darkness, feel the dreaded whisper of snow and an icy grave lick at the tumult of your thoughts, and find yourself rising from your bed. You stand on the porch, staring at the campfire on the rise, and in some strange semblance of gravity find yourself pulled there. The cold wind licks at your skin as you huddle your jacket and shawl around you, boots digging into the damp earth as you climb. You're not sure how you know Bear is there keeping watch, but when you appear at the perimeter of the fire he doesn't seem surprised to see you either.

You perch a way away from him, sitting on a log and feeling the flames dance in your gaze. Bear is quiet but alert, watching you from the periphery of his eyes even as he scans the wilderness for signs of approaching danger. Ever the watchman, the guardian, the pyre.

"I had a nightmare." You whisper, and for a moment you think your voice has been swallowed by the wind. It's childish, you think. Like a little girl huddling in the darkness jumping at shadows. When you look up, Bear is gazing at you unblinkingly, his eyes a little mournful, the flames glinting against his eyes.

"Tell me." He offers quietly, and you feel like his ribs crack open so he can hold you that much closer to his chest.

Your heart clenches.

He's different, you realize. Joel will shake you from your nightmares, will allow you the safety to regain yourself, but he won't open himself to you. If you try to spill your fears to him he'll tell you only a 'It's fine. You're safe' and refuse to let the bitterness linger. Yet here is Bear, asking, opening his palms so you can drop yourself and your aching fright into his warm gaze.

So, you do. You tell Bear all the things you've never spoken of to Joel. You share the story carved into your heart. You tell him about escaping the Seattle QZ, fleeing from the infighting caused by rebels along with a group of others. You tell him about entrusting yourself to a pair of older smugglers along with several others and running into the wilderness in search of a settlement. You tell him about the long harsh nights sleeping in abandoned houses, of eating meager rations not knowing where your next meal would come from.

You don't tell him about how the smugglers demanded payment.

The chill of your fingers is warmed as you press them to your chest to quell the ache there, grimacing at the pain of remembering. Yet you feel unable to stop, a drain unplugged and letting your sorrows circle downwards bit by bit until you feel almost empty with them. Bear listens, asking soft questions as you speak, allowing you the space you need even as your eyes water, staring up into the starry sky to keep them at bay.

You tell him about the night it all fell apart.

Raiders. The same kind that have attacked the outlying farms here in Jackson's territory. They caught your group unaware as you slept, and you awoke to screams, bloody impacts of blades, the snow turning red under your boots. The memory of a man backlit by the fire, advancing upon you with long, horrifying strides briefly makes your chest seize, your eyes go glassy and unseeing as they stare forwards.

Bear's hand grazes against yours, as if he's scared to touch you, as if you yourself are the flames. Yet when you don't pull away he presses closer, soon wraps his arms around you as you sag into the embrace, realizing after a moment just how starved you were for the warmth of another person. You don't cry, instead breathing in the strong, smoky scent of him that washes maple over your senses. Like a forest fire, the grief in you is slowly cindered away. In its place, soft green blooms sprout from the ashes.

You stay up on the rise until early dawn, dozing gently against Bear's side. Safe. Protected. At last, he rouses you just as scant light peeks over the horizon, chuckles at your sleepy murmur and then reminds you that you'll be missed if you linger. There's a bitterness in his gaze as he says it, and you blink upon realizing he wishes you didn't already belong to someone else. You want to tell him, want to tell him about the tear in your heart, want to confess to him the way you want Joel in the way you can only have Bear. Instead, you pad down into the valley below, trying to discern the conflict of your feelings.

Joel is waiting for you when you arrive at the house. It's still dark. The form of him is hazy around the edges with the glow of the lantern in the window. He's sitting on the steps, but as you approach he stands abruptly.

"Where were you?" He asks, voice dipping gruff and low in the way that means he's worried.

You feel something unpleasant squirm in your chest at the pinched look on his face, caught between vexation and regret. It sours the afterglow of your shared words with Bear, making you duck your head and sidle past him into the house.

"I was with Bear." You murmur as you pause in the doorway, not looking at him but imagining that maybe his eyes look hurt. You give a moment to let your words linger before you vanish from his sight.

------

It's often, after that, that you hike up to the rise to share Bear's company.

It's a shy, entreating thing at first, as you hesitate at the edge of the campfire and offer a 'Can I join you?' that Bear only smiles at and nods to the seat beside him. You hover at his side for a bit, fidgeting and conveying little bits of conversation, unsure of yourself yet wanting desperately to lean into him again, feel the warmth of his form leech into yours.

You have to fight down the feeling of guilt at being here with him. You have to remind yourself that you aren't Joel's, that you confessed to Joel only to be rebuffed, that the distance he's put between you two is the result of his own doing. You tried to tell him, tried to say you wanted to stay with him, but the memory of his eyes looking into yours with that emotion- guilt. Like he blamed himself for keeping you close.

You want him still. You want him to hold you the way Bear does. You want to feel his arms around you, want to huddle into him and be warmed by his shelter. Yet the more you drift to Bear for that exact thing, the more distance grows between you and Joel, and the further the pit of guilt opens up in your stomach. It’s selfish, what you’re doing, but you ache to be held, to be listened to, to have someone willing to open up to you the way Bear does.

You try instead to shed it away as you talk in slow, rambling tones with Bear. You talk about the day's events, about the news you get from Jackson, about the aches and complains from Caulder and the others. Eventually the topic drifts, and soon there's laughter and smiles between you both, eyes glinting with the sparks of the fire. You share with Bear the trials and tribulations of living here, as well as the deep, profound joy you've found within your healing. Bear welcomes it, tells you stories about his men, about him and Caulder from the before, their training and oath and brotherhood.

You begin to look forward to your evenings with Bear, begin bringing coffee up onto the rise with you and relish in the way his eyes light up at the scent. You stack kindling during the day for you to burn at night, watch as Bear chops extra wood to keep the fire burning brightly. There's smiles passed between you in the daytime, a deeply blossoming friendship that murmurs of something deeper you try desperately to ignore.

One evening, after a rainstorm has cleared and there's a gentle haze that dims the stars, Bear looks to the sky and tells you in a soft confession about the day that changed everything.

Friday, September 26th, 2003.

The day it all went wrong.

The team had just gotten back from a mission abroad, killing a man who had a hand in the death of one of their own. Yet no sooner had they put boots on the ground in Virginia Beach were they ordered to lift off once more, not given a chance to even eat due to the urgency of their mission- escorting an ambassador out of growing unrest in the Middle East. Bear and the others had already heard murmurs by that point, strange stories in the media of martial law in Indonesia. Yet it wasn't until their mission that the understood.

Infected. People who had become sick, had changed into something not human, things that didn't stop even when you shot them. Bear explains how he and the others had lost the ambassador, that one of their own, Trevor, had tried to rescue him, only to be killed himself. He tells you how the remaining five of them had spent ten hours in the air wondering if the world ended before they could get home.

They had returned to a nightmare. Infected had swarmed the city, and Bear and the others wasted no time in combing the carnage in search of their families. Fish, Chase, watched their worlds crumple before their eyes in grief, their families already lost. Buddha was the one to find his wife and children safe but not unharmed, and the group had spent the next week escorting them to the Atlanta QZ and leaving Buddha with them.

Bear doesn't mention his own family. You don't ask.

After that they moved west, towards a daring dream of California where they imagined Caulder's daughter was. They had kept up hope for years, trying to find a trace of her, only to come up empty handed. Eventually they drifted east again, traveling as mercenaries for hire, falling back on their skills as soldiers to survive. Years later they ended up in Jackson, and there they had stayed. They rest, they say, was history.

Bear relays the story with tightly concealed emotion, focusing only on events and facts, refusing to show the aching hurt inside him even as he opens himself up to yours. Even so, you can see it in his eyes, can see the regret and pain linger there when he dares to glance at you. He's burning himself, and you desperately wish the rain would return to douse the grief inside his chest. Your heart aches for him, and you fall asleep on his shoulder, eyes damp with hurt for the things he's lost.

The crackle of the fire drifts softly against your senses, merging with the rustle of the wind over the hills and Bear's soft, quiet breathing. It soothes against you, drags you down into a gentle doze where you're tucked against his shoulder.

---

You awake with a start as Bear stiffens against you, sucking in a breath and adjusting the rifle in his grip. You shift, rouse against his side, blink blearily and try to process the words Bear has just murmured down at you.

"Get to the cabin."

You snap to, standing with him as he rises to his feet. His form is coiled tightly, a white-knuckle grip on the rifle. When you glance into his eyes the orange glint of flames dances darkly in his gaze, jaw clenched and shoulders taut as he readies himself for the threat he sees in the distance. When you follow his stare, you see it, the shapes and shadows of riders on the next hill over, dark against the night sky.

Raiders.

Bear's voice is a dragging, smoky growl down at you, one hand loosing from the rifle to gently push you in the direction of the valley below.

"Now."

When you run down the hill, the devastating, thunderous sound of Bear's rifle echoes out in the midnight like an omen of destruction.

Joel is at the porch with his own rifle by the time you reach the edge of the barn, and when he calls your name it's with a shout, a scream you've never once before heard him use. It chills your blood, threatens to crack the heavens above your form. You race towards him, shawl fluttering from your shoulders as Bear's rifle once more fires into the dark, as hoofbeats echo down from the rise, as your world alights in destruction.

Caulder and the others were awakened by the first shot, armed by the second, and now as the raiders descend into the valley below they spill from the barn onto their own horses. It takes mere moments for the world around you to be consumed by the shaking ground under you, the approaching sound of riders behind you as you hurl yourself back towards Joel, legs pumping and eyes wide with terror.

You watch as Joel lifts his rifle, points it in your direction just as the shrill whinny of a horse closes in on your form. The echo of it shatters in the dark, and you stumble and fall just as Joel's aim finds the rider less than ten steps behind you, his rider-less horse racing mere feet past your fallen form.

Joel screams your name once more, in that holler that trembles the earth around you, and you stumble to your feet only to feel the side of you alight in warmth. You turn, eyes horrified as they reflect the flickering flames of a torch just as it reaches the woodpile stacked against the barn.

"NO!!" You scream, now pointing yourself in the direction of the blaze. Shots ring out around you, hoofbeats and shouts and whistles the only sounds in the world, muffling the growing flames that lick at the wood panels of the barn. You barely hear them, thinking instead about the animals you and Joel have spent so much time caring for, the lambs that you had watched him catch as hope bloomed in his eyes.

It takes effort to tip over the rain barrel at the edge of the barn onto the growing blaze, smoke stinging your eyes and clogging your throat. The flames are higher than you now, and as you use a bucket to slosh water higher you pray to whatever god will listen that the flare doesn't reach the hayloft.

Hands grab at you, and instinctively you scream, push back at whatever attacker has seized you. Yet Joel's voice pierces your thoughts, and when you turn you see the panic written clear across his gaze. The fire glints off both your forms, and for the briefest of moment you see Joel's lips form the words "It's me."

Together the two of you race towards the barn door, with Joel at your back lifting his rifle towards the shadowy riders that circle your homestead. It takes effort to haul open the gates inside, releasing first the horses, and then braving the growing smoke towards the sheep. They hesitate, frightened inside their corral, so you launch yourself in and scare them from the pen, watching as they spill towards the barn doors. Joel stands there as they dart in the direction of the pasture, and once more you beg the heavens that Caulder and the others can distract the raiders long enough for them to get away.

Smoke smarts against your vision now, descending heavy as the hayloft begins to catch. Yet you manage to release the other two pens of sheep before at last trying to make your way towards the barn door. As you do, you hear a terrified bleat, eyes wet as you turn towards a forgotten lamb who'd been injured in the surge. Despite the heavy smoke descending from the ceiling, you stumble and scoop the little one into your arms, desperately coughing and blinking as you fumble in search of the door. You try and follow the sound of Joel's voice, feeling heat sear against your skin.

Hands seize on your form, dragging you along as you wheeze and splutter, until at last  you're hauled into the cool night air, grass sticking to your knees as you collapse. You fall forward so your head braces on the ground, still clutching the lamb tightly in your arms as you heave for air. The sound of gunshots is muffled down by the roar of the inferno, heat searing at your back. Yet the earth trembles less, the shouts and whistles have faded to infrequent rifle shots that make you flinch with each round.

You don't know how long you stay down on the ground, coughing up smoke and feeling the lamb in your tightly clutched hold tremble with you. The acrid smell of smoke fills your nose, clogs your thoughts and summon the vision of a man backlit by flames, his blade raised as he brings it down on your form.

"J-Joel-" You gasp, one arm stretching out in front of you. Your chest splutters, lungs heaving with each breath. You're so cold despite the raging fire of the barn, frostbite lingering on your lips as you try to breathe.

Hands reach for you, raise you up and soon you're dragged into an embrace, face streaked with tears and ash. You drag in a gasping suck of air that looses as sob, warmth spilling from the corner of your eyes as you struggle to breathe and cry all at once. The arms holding you smell like gunpowder and smoke and maple, holding you fast as you collapse into them. A hand grasps at his jacket, and you dare to hope that maybe, maybe the person holding you is the one you want.

Bear's face blinks into your gaze.

He presses you back to his chest before he can see the conflict in your eyes, refusing to let himself see the things that might hurt him, refuses to let you see his own pain at the look in your eyes. On his knees, his rifle discarded beside him, he drags you to him, shushes you when sobs crack in your throat, confused and hurt and wanting.

Another hand settles on your shoulder, and you don't need to look up to see who it is. Joel's grasp is solid, familiar, and you raise a hand up to grasp at his sleeve as if he might pull away. yet it only draws Bear's arms tighter around you as a result, as if trying to shield you and keep you with him just a little longer.

"You're okay." He hushes into your hair as you sob, cough up smoke, caught between the forest and the blaze as your world burns to ash. "We've got you."

"We're here. You're safe."

“You’re safe.”

Taglist:

(Please reblog this post to be added to the taglist for the final update)

@yeyinde @alittlefansthings @joebeargraves @moriflos @aeoncss @havenforafrazzledmind @littlemisspascal @zwiiicnziiix

[mythology-void]

posting my thunder saga thoughts that I scribbled down while I was listening fair warning they're unhinged and make zero sense

SUFFERING x DIFFERENT BEAST (I couldn't tell when the first one ended)

intro very synthy

Penelope?

PARDON??

jump in the water??

Sirens?? perchance

Daughter?? WHAT IS THIS

ok wtf is going on

Oh noooo 🙄

Scylla..... eeeeEEEe

Suffering is a poor name for this song

OH WHAT THIS SHIT

Let's cut the charade is fucking crazy

WE ARE THE MEN MADE MONSTERS JS FUCKING CRAZY

12 years.. guess we're sticking with this one

clever little bastards aren't ye

spare us 😔

Cut off their tails DAMN throw them in the water DAMN GODDAMN BRO CHILL JESUS FUCK

Kill them all feels unnecessary

the screaming hurts my soul a bit

ok beat drop

SCYLLA

voice reveal

"Not much to say" hahaha

EURYLLEKCOUS YOU FUCKING WHAT

nah bro

Scylla is whispering all deviously and it's concerning

"Light six torches"

HELLO THE RUNS?? HER VOICE IM GONNA KMS

holy FUCK HER VOICE

DUDE

NO WAY JTS A DUET THE HARMONIES IM SHAKING

AHAHAHAHA THE STRINGS MY BELOVED

MUTINY

HSHEJAHABAKNSJEK

the way he spat "Captain"

DUDE THE VOCALS I CANNOT

TF YOU MEAN FORCED YOUR HAND

LOWER YOUR WEAPON

TF DO YOU MEAN ITS NOT STILL GOING

WAIT WHAT HAPPENED

wait what happened with the fight

Don't touch them pls

NOT THE CALLBACK TO LRO

"ODY" IM GONNA CRY

The home of the sun godddddd 😔😔😔

WHO DO YOU THINK HE'LL SEND im deceased please take me home I'm having heart palpitations

"Please don't dooo thisssss" AAAAAAAAAA

"I need to get hooooomeeeee" IM GONNA FUCKIN CRY

"I'm just a man" SHUT. THE FUCK. UP

the "eurylochus NO-" had me on my knees shaking wtfffff

IM GOING TO DIE

I CAN'T EVEN SPEAK oh god here it comes

THUNDER BRINGER

TH THUNDER KM GONNA DBKSNAK

HOOOOOOO WEEEEE BABY HERE WE GO

THE ELECTRIC GUITAR 🎸🎸🎸

GSJBSJABSKSBSKDHRBD

THUNDER BRINGER HEREE TO WRINGGG YOUR EARS ⛈️⚡

IT JUST KEEPS GETTING WORSE

LUKE HOLT MY HUSBAND

HIS VOICE OH MY FUCKING GOD

WHY DO I THINK THEY'D LOSE

ITS SO SCARY BUT SUCH A FUCKIN VIBE

"But we'll die."

"I know." IM GOING TO CRY

the fake scenarios in my head rn are going CRAZY

why are the ending vocals so serene do you realize what just happened

[puckpocketed]

UPON FURTHER RESEARCH i may have found the unluckiest girl in the world, Canadiens edition. this is old news to a lot of people but its news to ME!!!!! David Reinbacher uou have been throuhg the trenches hello take my fin GET BEHIND ME

drafted in Bedards draft year but also the next 3 guys are Carlsson-Fantilli-Smith . and everyone and their mother was wondering who was gonna get Michkov. what an act to follow RIP

CAREY PRICE BLUE SCREENED WHILE CALLING OUT HIS NAME. CAN'T MAKE THIS UP!! "Bonsoir, Les Canadiens de Montreal are proud to select, David….........." HELPPPPPP???

to make things worse people sent him thousands of awful messages. AS THOUGH IT WAS HIS FAULT HE GOT DRAFTED INSTEAD OF THE OTHER KID. the messages included death threats and comparisons to hitler (he is austrian. and me. well. I am lighting them all on fire ! <3 )

so the Habs send him back to the NL to let him develop without the pressure of this accursed fucking market right. that should be fine. right.

BOOM !INJURY!!! TWO INJURIES!! im wailing... sobbing... when will it end

His team, Kloten, acquired a new GM the year before. whats the worst that could happen?

THREE DIFFERENT COACHES! AT ONE POINT THE GM IS COACHING??

Kloten were sort of average the year before but this year its flop city. 17-29-6 ahaha <3

god . their system is. not good. per this article -> "Gerry Fleming, named this summer and who was coaching at the opening of the season, is responsible for turning a fairly interesting 22-23 team into a very bad one, including making them defend man on man all over the defensive zone."

and reinbacher saw the most use of all the defensemen in rotation for yet another season. helo .

most difficult match ups. second worst team in the league. so of course he sees a regression in production from his draft year, and during what was supposed to be a season for development this is.Not Good!!!

gonna just. leave some of thee most devastating/endearing quotes from this article below:

like even the nicest fans are sort of holding their noses about him at the time. like oh. him? not an exciting pick at all, according to many. not what the Habs need, in a draft year stacked with offensive talent. not flashy. unsexy, well-rounded hockey. consensus best defenseman on draft day but that's still not good enough !!

weight of the world type beat…gotta prove you're worth that high draft pick. gotta show them they shouldn't have sent you back. they saw there was a mote of excellence in you once and surely if you try to do everything on your own they'll see it again right? <3 ahahahaha.... !

and finally their season ends and the habs reassign him to the AHL. christ alive!!!!!!

he makes his AHL debut with the Laval Rocket and does pretty well!! scores his first goal !!

here's something that made me scream. what are u doing to him, montreal...................

Anyway. the boys in Laval call him Rhino (alt spelling: Reino?) and thats ADORABLE and hes going right beside all the other dmen in my heart .tucking him in carefully!!!!

whatever the hell is goin on with him and Lane Hutson.... i love when two players are bonded cats at the shelter. cosmically fated to be each other's d-pair? hello <3

what if we were prospects and everyone thought we fit together perfectly. what then.

feeling very hinged and regular. hello. unluckiest girl in the world David Reinbacher . <3

[dangermousie]

This girl should have been a Mountie because she always gets her man. Honestly, the fact that she melts him not once but twice and that she honestly rescues him here post jail in a more tangible sense than in school where she just rescued him from being self-sufficiently alone - is so so good! And I love that she decides to help him get his company back not because she thinks she wants back with him (she, at least on a conscious level, holds no hope or interest) but because she wants to fix injustice - and what happened to him with regard L&P was unjust. (But also, if you think about it, while not one person or one event is responsible for the tragedy, the reason FZJ went after his sister is because LX went after FZJ. And LX had no interest in FZJ at all - he never would have bothered going after the man if she didn’t ask; he knew she hated FZJ and went to be her knight and and all those other horrible things followed as a cascade - Gao's resentment getting turbocharged, his being in position to take over, the sister thing and the aftermath. Of course she's not at fault, but being who she is, I bet she feels responsibility.)

But anyway, she finds out he's going to apply to this dinky company for a job (because it's the only one he has any chance with due to his record) and she ditches her fancy foreign job and applies to this barely paying anything hole. AAAA!

His vulnerable face when he hears her voice!!!!!

The contrast between how he was, how they were, before and now is just - and the thing is even with her, look how wary he is and how generally down when nobody is looking and he doesn't have to hide. He really does come across as beaten so badly by life - his arrogance to Gao isn't false but it's not the entire picture. It covers up the many many cracks and it all breaks my heart.

He may supposedly not care (good luck) but look at him shoulder ahead to clear a path so as to make sure she can walk without the box dudes getting in the way.

The interview is genuinely hilarious.

Have you noticed that even this early on, even as fucked up and locked down as he is, he's still ten times more alive around her than at any other time.

That would be a great name for a show!

The way he enjoys watching (not longer) his girl run circles in her typical fashion...

Oh my God ahahahaha

This is everything! I am dying!

I do love how this drama can turn from hilarious to heartbreaking on a dime. Because we go from there to that guy reading her resume, so insanely impressed and we see Li Xun's face as he confirms that his sacrifice was worth it but also how utterly far she is from him now, miles bigger difference than before.

Look at that last cap, he still loves her so utterly! (Unlike Gao, he is happy for someone who did better than him...)

[minijenn]

NOT ME BACK ON MY BULLSHIT BOUTTA WRITE A TOTK FIC

EXCEPT I AM AHAHAHAHA

Ok lemme reel it back and explain. So in the... eventual future I plan on writing a totk au fic entitled To Lose Oneself. Basic gist of the plot is if Link wasn't saved by Rauru's arm at the start, and instead, his arm is all corrupted or whatever by gloom and it just keeps on gettin worse and worse. Add that onto the rest of the game's already dramatic plot and you get: Ganondorf being a fucking bastard man, Fake Zelda being a creep, the sages being Link's concerned found family, Purah being the tired team mom, and MiniJen writing yet another fic where she slowly but surely corrupts a boy. Ya know, for fun.

Coming to an AO3 near you... sooner or later idk

[bloopitynoot]

Reading SVSSS: Chapter 12

For those who don't know, I am reading SVSSS for the first time and sharing my thoughts!

If you have not read it, there will be spoilers! Consider this a warning.

Also- if you want to follow along, I am aiming to post updates daily. You can find all the posts in the tag bloopitynoot reads SVSSS. You can also check out the intro post for context on my read.

Heading into chapter 12!

It's been an absolute day at work, but I got to do a lovely walk with a friend afterwards AND Charlie decided to grace us with his presence (very briefly for head pats).

Tea today is peppermint! Dinner break midway through this little chapter was congee and I was very pleased with it- photo further down lol.

Let's get into it!

OMG I knew that the Dew Lake snake man would be back! I did not think they'd be here as a "handsome young man" though. I fear that Shen Qingqiu is absolutely fucked LOL. p265

oof. and now I feel like we are entering the territory for daddy issues. We have Luo Binghe's father's right hand man introduced pp266-267

Well. at least if he is likely going to suffer, the plot holes will be filled. thank you system for the points. p267

wait. Could Zhuzhi-lang be an ally? or will this guy brutally die later? (do not actually tell me this, I'm just planting my speculations). my thoughts are he could be an ally because SQQ DID save him and give him an unexpected boon by mushroom bod. but also, if Luo Binghe see's SQQ being close to another demon that man will surely murder the other demon. p268

WHY SO MANY SNAKES??? I hate that so much! p270

All I'm seeing from SQQ is kink shaming. This guy has got to stop yucking other's yums. First with the necrophilia now he's anti demons fucking snakes. it's the panicked "way too fucking hardcore" for me p271

SQQ: can you handle the snakes pls? Zhuzhi-Lang: nah they like you. p272

okay, but why is he asking for women? is it to do with the snakes? or is it because he is having a sexual crisis and needs to reassure himself?? p273

they're really going to this brothel? p274

LOL even the brothel ladies sing (very uncomfortable but I guess they enjoy it) love songs about Luo Binghe and SQQ's tragic love story p276

AHAHAHAHA SQQ's "summary" of their story on page 277 has me absolutely dying XD

Ah! that's why the women and the brothel -> the wine! p278

Cultivation wise I do really love that SQQ can just pick up any fan and start cultivating. that is honestly the coolest part of his cultivation. I love it so much. p279

LOL he really just made the snake pass out, rented a sword (idfk WHEN but he did) and dipped from the entire situation. p281

SQQ: this is a later problem, byyyyeeeeeeee.

I stated I would have congee pic earlier and here is me delivering on that. It's pork congee with eggs, tofu, pork, green onions and an ungodly amount of chili crisp.

I'm slowly turning this chapter-by-chapter read into a stay at home mom's recipe blog. I am not sorry.

That's a wrap for chapter 12!

Okay so thankfully nothing terribly tragic happened this chapter. It does feel like a big set up though so I am a little nervous about that.

AND. He still has all of this demon blood in him so he really is fucked. He may have escaped for the moment but I see all of the demons coming back for him.

We'll see what happens next chapter!

[queenoftheimps]

Goddddd yes it would be fucking HILARIOUS if that dude suddenly goes missing and the internet goes wild with connecting it to a couple of folks that left really nasty reviews on Goodreads

sldjeksjen the GOODREADS REVIEWS

I want you to know that this joke is 20 years old but Armand (OR SOMEONE) is in fact out there on his fuckass little iPad responding to every less than stellar Goodreads review like “you’re interrogating the text from the wrong perspective”

(Look. Everyone was very mean about this when it happened but at this point I’m high on iwtv cocaine and I am halfway to imagining the fake bad book reviews where you could sneak that line in as a reasonable response)

HAH! Armand doing murders where Daniel has a clear motive and a rock solid alibi is also insanely funny like. He’s making that man’s unlife harder on purpose because he knows Old Maniel is turned on by these complications.

Ahahahaha and the thing is that honestly, that sentence in particular reads SO much like an Armand way of phrasing it. Like I can even imagine Daniel spotting the review replies and being like "ARMAND I KNOW IT'S YOU, NO ONE ELSE TALKS LIKE THIS".

But you are absolutely correct that he'd also be kind of flattered and turned on by all of it while Armand is just like :D see I did good and look your Community Reviews Star Rating has gone up