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veliseraptor · 14 hours

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April Reading Recap

Stars of Chaos vol. 2 by Priest. I'm not quite grabbed by this one yet. I'm not not enjoying it, but the main relationship doesn't quite have me compelled, and the politics aren't quite sharp enough to get me either. I'm not totally sure I'll keep buying the published volumes, at least not at this time, and just read the rest online to see how I end up feeling about it as a whole before making the financial commitment.

Medea by Eilish Quin. Listen, I'm a Medea apologist, but I'm a Medea apologist who is very much of the "she absolutely did all the awful things she's accused of and she is valid" and the author here is going "she did all the awful things she's accused of but it's not as bad as you thought it was because she didn't mean it!" and I'm just. I'm not mad, just disappointed (again). I was so hoping for a book that would do something interesting with a Medea retelling but I probably should've known better than to think it'd be this one. Why, you may ask, do I keep reading myth retellings about my problematic faves when all I do is complain about them? Hope springs eternal, I guess.

She Who Became the Sun and He Who Drowned the World by Shelley Parker-Chan. Exceptional. Might be my favorite books I read in April. I'd already read She Who Became the Sun back when it was first published and knew I'd enjoyed it (was rereading to refresh my memory for the sequel), but I felt like I enjoyed it more the second time around, and I might've liked He Who Drowned the World even more than its predecessor. If you're looking for works of just-barely fantasy with delightfully fucked up queer characters, come get 'em here. I won't say most of them are happy (they're not) or that things end well (they don't), but boy is it good reading.

The Death of Jane Lawrence by Caitlin Starling. Decent horror but not particularly outstanding, in my opinion. I liked The Luminous Dead more.

Untethered Sky by Fonda Lee. I continue to struggle with novellas. This was a perfectly good novella but it felt like it could've been a stronger short story, which I guess is better than the other way I usually come out of novellas, which is "this was a fine novella but it should've been a novel."

The Mountain in the Sea by Ray Nayler. I really liked this. It has more of a thriller-ish edge than I expected, but for all that I think it's a thoughtful book with some interesting things to say, and I feel like it's one I want more people to read so I can talk to them about it. It's set in a sort-of spooky, near-future dystopia, but a lot of it is about, like, the nature of thought and consciousness. Anyway, I found myself compelled.

Islands of Abandonment: Nation Rebounding in the Post-Human Landscape by Cal Flyn. I found myself reading this thinking a lot about The World Without Us, a book I read many years ago and would kind of like to reread, and which I think I liked more than this (at least in my memory). I was hoping for more analysis than I got from this book, which was beautifully written but more nature/travel writing than science. One thing I did appreciate was the attention paid to the human cost of the "abandoned" places examined in this book - the pain that abandonment often signifies, and the trauma it indicates, in spite of the beauty that may come after.

Emperor of Rome: Ruling the Ancient Roman World by Mary Beard. I really liked the way that Beard chose to do this one - namely, taking it by theme rather than by emperor, and breaking down different areas of the emperor's life over time rather than trying to tell a linear narrative. It also let her do some of the better "skeptical" reading of sources that I've read in a popular book on ancient history, where she was actually digging into the "rather than what this says about what this person may or may not have actually done, what does it say about expectations, beliefs, and tropes that people had" kind of reading. And after some of the other popular histories of Rome I've read, thank god for that.

Metamorphoses by Ovid, trans. Stephanie McCarter. Continuing on with my "reading new translations (by women!) of classical epics" run (started with The Odyssey, The Iliad is on my list). It was fun to reread Ovid! As usual one of my favorite parts of this was reading the translator's note and introduction, and I wanted about 500% more of that through the text (tell me about the assonance you're preserving in the Latin!) but did get some of (thanks for the information on the penis/pubic hair puns!). Overall would recommend as a good translation of Ovid that very much does not flinch away from - and makes/keeps appropriately uncomfortable - the sexual assault.

Dark Rise by C.S. Pacat. Slightly more YA than I usually like, but I enjoyed it! I was a little :\ about it for a while, very much feeling the YA cliches of it all, but the late hour twist got me interested again, and I will be picking up the sequel. Did miss the full balls-to-the-wall iddy joy of Captive Prince, though, since I probably wouldn't have picked this book up without the author recognition.

Subversive Sequels in the Bible: How Biblical Stories Mine and Undermine Each Other by Judy Klitsner. I really liked this one, particularly for its commentary comparing and contrasting Eve, and the other women of Genesis, with later Biblical narratives. I don't know how much I buy all of her arguments when it comes to intentionality of all of the comparisons she's drawing, but it certainly makes interesting food for thought, and a good sampler for me of what literary-based Biblical scholarship can look like (and an indication that I'm interested in trying more of it).

Use of Weapons by Iain M. Banks. I read most of my way through this book continuing to really appreciate what Banks does with the Culture novels and planning to continue on reading the next one, but not enjoying this specific one as much as I did The Player of Games in particular, and then I got to the very end of it and went "hang on what the fuck???" but in a decidedly good way. And I'm still kind of thinking about That even though it's been a while, which I think is a positive. Anyway, I don't think I'd recommend this as a starting place for anyone to read the Culture novels, or as a must read, but it was on the upper end of a three star rating.

Juniper & Thorn by Ava Reid. I wanted this to be more gothic horror and less romance and it ended up being more romance and less gothic horror, was my feeling. Not necessarily the book's fault, but if anyone else is eyeing it wondering...now you know.

A Deadly Education by Naomi Novik. I really enjoyed this one! I was kind of skeptical going in - I'm not a big magic school person, as a rule, and the more I feel like something is hyped to me the more I tend to drag my heels about it - but Naomi Novik is really good at what she does and she clearly had a lot of fun here. It's tropey for sure, but I enjoy the narrative voice (very important, in a first person narration), and the action moves along with what I felt was pretty good momentum. The other thing I was worried about - that it'd feel too much like this was just ~commentary on/against Harry Potter~ without saying anything for itself - didn't materialize for me. I'm looking forward to reading the next ones.

The Monster Theory Reader ed. by Jeffrey Andrew Weinstock. I'm so rusty on my academic/theory reading and I felt it reading this collection, some of which was definitely better than others. Kristeva's essay on abjection was particularly rough as far as "I'm reading words and I know all the words but something about the order they're going in is just not making sense to me." Overall...it was a decent primer? There were a few very interesting essays in there; my favorite might've been the one on tanuki in modernizing Japan's folklore, but there were a couple on "monstrous" bodies that made me wish I had someone to discuss them with. That's probably my main problem reading academic works these days: I want a seminar to dissect them afterwards and I just don't have that.

The Sabbath: Its Meaning for Modern Man by Abraham Joshua Heschel. I'm trying to read something Jewish on Shabbat now and finally getting around to reading some Heschel after years of meaning to. I thought "oh, I'll start easy with something nice and short" - yeah, no, Heschel's got a very particular style of writing and there's a lot of theological depth packed into a very short volume. I'm looking forward to reading The Prophets, though.

The Husky and His White Cat Shizun vol. 5 by Rou Bao Bu Chi Rou. I think we're juuuuust about caught up now with the official translation to where I started reading the machine translation, so I'm very excited for (a) things I don't remember as well (b) reading it not in machine translation. Also looking forward to everything about what happened with Nangong Liu and Nangong Xu making more sense this time around, on account of not reading it machine translated, because I didn't follow it so well on my first read and I feel like I'm already doing better. (Though that could also be because it's a reread, no matter how different an experience of one.) Still feel real bad for Ye Wangxi, on so many levels. Mark that one down for 'characters I'd love to know more about what they're thinking.'

The Water Outlaws by S.L. Huang. I really enjoyed S.L. Huang's other work with the Cas Russell series, and I liked this book a little less than those. It felt like an almost winner, for me. Certainly I read through it quickly enough, and I can say I enjoyed it, but I'm not sure I'd give it an enthusiastic recommendation. It falls somewhere in the middle between "a fun action/adventure story" and "something I can sink my teeth into" in a way that didn't quite satisfy either itch. Still, it did make me curious about the source material, which is one of the Chinese classics (Water Margin) and I might go and find a place to read that, if I can; if I'd had that background going in I wonder if my experience of this work would've been more edifying.

I'm currently rereading A Memory Called Empire so I can (finally) read the sequel (A Desolation Called Peace); I also checked out from the library the next two Scholomance books so I'll be reading those. I'm going to try to throw some nonfiction somewhere in there (maybe The Genius of Birds by Jennifer Ackerman, which I also have out from the library, but maybe something else), but I've still got the sequel to The First Sister sitting on my shelf (also from the library).

Outside of that I've got no big reading plans - I'm working my way through some of the unreads on my own shelf (despite what it may look like, about the library books) and eyeing The Doors of Eden by Adrian Tchaikovsky or a reread of Foundryside by Robert Jackson Bennett so I can continue that series.

#long post for ts #reading recaps #sometimes i read things #sometimes i wonder if i should have more like. summary information on what books are about #but i am lazy and also that's not really the point #important text posts

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thotsfortherapy · 1 year

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i have lived this before. i have survived this before. things won’t always be okay but it won’t last and it will always get better.

#cy says stuff #affirmations #healing #i am reminding myself to hold fast #and to stay steady...#and to not let the world beat the good out of me!#i've done this all before which means i can do it better this time around... sigh

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satuguro · 1 year

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⠀⠀ ⠀ཾ ༚ 20/20 VISION

lalala! ethan landry x okokok! reader

#SYNOPSIS— based off of see you again by tyler the creater & kali uchis; you have no gag reflex, ethan tells a sex joke, and ethan takes a leap of faith.

#CONTAINS— best friends to lovers, mutual pining, jealousy, emetophobia, fluff

#AUTHORSNOTE— i've been wanting to write fluff lately so.. here you go xx

your unofficial designated spot in the carpenter sisters' apartment was their armchair in their living room.

you had a list of reasons why; one, it meant more space. you could stretch your legs, not worry about feeling someone's feet near your legs, and you could have your own blanket. all somewhat selfish reasons, but you loved your space. two, it had the perfect angle towards the t.v. that gave you the best spot in the living room to watch it without worrying about discomfort.

which was why you would've been mildly perturbed that someone was standing between you and the t.v. the only difference was that it wasn't just someone; it was someone who rambled too often, who had no sense of personal space while also being hyper aware of it, and who was a flurry of random facts (which wouldn't help him at all, unless someone held a gun to his head and told him to name and point at every country’s capital in the world).

"i've done it," ethan announced to you, his signature toothy smile seemingly more victorious as he looked down at where you were snuggled up on the couch. his well manicured nails (he asked you to do them once, and who were you to deny your best friend?) held his laptop, the screen facing his chest.

"aren't you supposed to be studying?" you asked him with a small tilt of your head, glancing at where the rest of the group was. finals week was beating everyone up, and you could briefly see mindy and chad chugging a redbull at the same time while tara timed them, before you turned back to your best friend.

"i gave up."

"you need to study."

"you gave up, too!" ethan looked down at the huge blanket that you hogged for yourself, not even thinking twice before he was climbing in next to you.

"ow— ethan!" you groaned, feeling him step on your leg.

"'scuse me!" ethan forced himself under the blanket you were snuggled under, making you share your beloved armchair with him before he sighed contentedly. "this is comfortable! maybe i should share this seat with you more often!" he said with a bright grin, making you sigh reluctantly. "i mean if you don't want to then it's fine too!" ethan added hurriedly with wide eyes.

"i was just saying that i wouldn't mind sharing with you because usually you sit alone— which i know you prefer, you've told me so many times and i get it! i really do! but i wouldn't mind sitting with you to keep you company because i really like being with you— around you. your presence. yeah, that." ethan rambled, finishing his string of words with a sheepish smile, cheeks flaring a bit red. "i'm sorry for rambling." he added quietly.

your usually tired eyes softened at that. he had always been insecure of how much he talked, you knew that better than anyone. "i've told you before, e, i don't mind. i like listening to you," you hummed, a downturned smile on your lips. "i like your presence too. and i guess i don't mind sharing my seat with you."

ethan's cheeks flared red at your casual words. you had a way of speaking so calmly, as though all your words were chosen well. in a way, he was a bit jealous.

"you had something to tell me, yeah?" you asked him softly, bringing him back on track.

"oh, right!" ethan showed you his laptop, setting it up on your legs. it was a notion list, color coordinated and everything, with an entire list of shows and movies you remember only briefly mentioning to him. "i made this list—"

"just now? instead of studying?"

"yes! so basically, it has a section where we can rate it after we watch it, and it's all organized by what we want to watch the most and what we need to finish!" ethan scrolled down the list, practically buzzing with excitement (and the cold brew he drank earlier).

"see? i know that i have a whole essay to do but i can do it later—" ethan said, waving it off with his hand. "because i know you said you would do it but i got impatient and did it instead! and look—" he showed you the wide variety of colors for every row. "they're color coordinated! and here's how i think the rating system should go—"

you had watched ethan talk the entire time he rambled, your usually tired and indifferent eyes softening when you listened to him speak. he talked fast— too fast for some people, but you liked that about him—but the way he rambled showed how passionate he was about different topics, because ethan only rambled when he cared.

it showed how much he appreciated what he was talking about. and ever time his cadence picked up and his words became jumbled and he began interrupting himself, you could see how ethan's brown eyes would shine with excitement. you could see how he began incorporating his hands to his words, how his lips tilted up when he talked.

you were so engrossed in ethan's explanation of the movie and t.v. show list that you failed to notice your friends staring at you from the dining table.

"they are disgustingly cute," tara said with a sigh.

"and disgustingly oblivious," mindy grumbled, clicking her pen over and over. "with how smart the both of them are, i'm surprised they haven't picked up on the clues." she turned to chad, who was sulking after losing the redbull chugging competition against her. "have you asked ethan about it yet? you're our in on this, chad!"

chad groaned as mindy nudged him with her shoulder. "i did. he didn't even respond. it's crazy how he can avoid conversations, you know."

you didn't like parties. not as much as your friends did— you were usually the designated driver or the friend that was always sober enough to take care of their friends, which you didn't mind. it was the socializing part that you minded.

you socialized okay, but you often just ended up listening to other people rather than talking. listening was more your style, but you were only a little awkward when it came to talking to complete (and possibly intoxicated) strangers at parties. you stuck with your group of friends and very rarely strayed away.

but ethan was the designated sober friend this time around, so maybe that would change.

three loud knocks to your dorm room made you go and open it, coming eye to eye with ethan. "you're walking me there?" you asked with a knowing smile, making the boy nod eagerly.

"yup! chad's walking with tara and mindy's going with anika, so that leaves you and me." ethan grinned at you teasingly. "why, you're getting tired of me already?"

"no," you hummed, closing your dorm room behind you as the both of you began to walk down the hall. "you're really not drinking tonight, huh?"

"nope!" ethan replied, popping the 'p'. "after i threw up all over sam that one time we drank at the apartment, and then i threw up on you right after, i told myself that i'd hold back on it."

you wrinkled your nose at the memory. "how responsible of you."

"i know, right?" ethan said with a proud smile. "but because i threw up on you that time, i give you full permission to throw up on me this time."

"i'm not gonna be that drunk."

that was a lie.

to say that your friends were shocked to see you become a more extraverted person after drinking would be an understatement. they were used to you observing the group and contributing to conversations with sarcastic comments, dry humor, and dark jokes that are often made much too soon. so to see you take a shot with tara and squeal happily with her (true friend solidarity; she was as drunk as you were) was completely out of the ordinary.

"i'm gonna go find chad!" tara yelled over the music, making you nod happily and watch her leave. adrenaline and excitement began to thrum through your body stronger, and your first thought was to share it with your favorite person. you began to walk around, searching for ethan, before you bumped into a chest.

"oh, shit! i'm so sorry," the guy laughed, making you send him an apologetic smile.

"it's okay!" you said, taking in his black hair and his brown eyes (that only reminded you of ethan). "i'm y/n!"

the guy smiled at you, offering his hand out. "jaden!" he seemed to be as intoxicated as you were, his steps wobbling slightly as you shook his hand. "do you, uh, wanna dance?"

"hey, where's y/n?" ethan asked tara as she passed him, making her look back towards the drinks table.

"she should just be around where the drinks are.." tara's voice trailed off when her eyes landed on you not too far away. your arms were around a guy's neck— was that jaden from her philosophy lecture? —as you swayed with him to the music. you seemed to be having a good time, the alcohol making you lighthearted as you sang with whatever song was playing through the speakers. "there she is!"

when ethan saw you, his heart fell. you looked so beautiful under the multicolored lights, your hair perfectly styled and your clothes fitting you perfectly as you danced with someone who wasn't him. your smile— your genuine one, ethan noted with his chest aching, the one that made your eyes crinkle and your smile lopsided —was pointed towards someone who wasn't him.

jealousy brewed in his chest along with the heartache, ethan's jaw clenching as he stared at you and the random guy. but he didn't step in. he didn't pull you away and declare his feelings for you, because at the end of the night, you were happy. content as you danced with someone who wasn't ethan at all.

chad came up next to tara, his arm over her shoulders as he steadied her. "hey man, where's y/n?" he asked, still fairly sober than everyone as he had only taken one shot.

"she's doing fine," ethan said, his voice monotone as he continued staring at you. it was unfair how beautiful you looked while you unknowingly broke his heart with every laugh and every flirtatious smile you sent towards your dance partner.

"what?" chad looked in the direction ethan was staring, his face falling when he saw you and jaden. easily connecting the dots, he looked at ethan empathetically. "fuck. dude, i'm sorry."

"it's okay, really," ethan said with a tight lipped smile. but he couldn't keep his eyes off of you and him, the fact that you looked so happy pulling at his chest because he wanted you to be happy with him. he wanted you to look at him the way you looked at that random stranger.

and finally, as you did a twirl into jaden’s arms, you made eye contact with ethan. oblivious to the way his jaw clenched and his eyes lost the spark they usually had, you gently pulled yourself out of jaden's arms. your steps were wobbly, and you nearly crashed into ethan's chest when you finally walked up to him. ethan's arms went to steady you easily.

"ethan, i feel like throwing up," you murmured, and ethan nodded in understanding, worry taking over his jealousy.

"okay, let's get you to the bathroom, okay?" ethan said softly, pulling you close to him as he guided you to the bathroom. he knocked on the door, thankful no one responded, before he opened it for you. he locked the door behind the both of you as you made a beeline for the toilet, grabbing the side of it as you readied yourself to throw up.

but nothing came out.

“go on!” ethan encouraged you, motioning to the toilet. but instead, you looked up at him warily.

“do i have to?”

“yes?” ethan gaped at you, motioning to the toilet again. “just go ahead! nothing to fear!”

“i don’t want to.”

“c’mon, y/n, why not?” ethan whined, making you groan as you stopped yourself from throwing up yet again.

“i have emetophobia, asshole,” you muttered, gently pushing his arm. “fear of throwing up? and,” you messily pushed some of your hair away from your face. “i have no gag reflex.”

“what the hell?” ethan crinkled his nose, blushing furiously as he looked at you in shock. you were honest, sure but never this honest. “i could’ve gone my whole life without knowing that.”

“are you sure?”

“what?” ethan said quickly, eyes wider than ever as he stared at you as you snorted in amusement. “you’re kidding.”

“maybe.”

“maybe?” he swallowed thickly, shutting his eyes and pinching his nose bridge. “oh god, you definitely have to throw up now.”

“watch this.” you took two of your fingers and stuffed them all the way to the back of your throat, smiling triumphantly as you showed ethan your lack of a gag reflex.

ethan could only watch in horror and exasperation. “y/n, i didn’t need proof. i already believed you.” he took some squares of toilet paper before offering it to you.

“i told you so,” you hummed, pulling your saliva covered finger out of your mouth and wiping them on the toilet paper. there was a beat of silence before ethan coughed, his cheeks and ears still burning red.

“can i make a joke?”

“of course you can.”

“it’s a, uh,” ethan cleared his throat, avoiding your intent gaze, “sex joke.”

“even better.” you situated yourself next to the toilet, still very much feeling like you were gonna hurl at any given moment.

ethan sat next to you, clearing his throat again. “i know one way we can test your gag reflex,” he stated, almost ashamed at his own joke.

you chuckled at that, the horrible joke making a you sway a bit with laughter before the sudden motion sickness got to you. without another word, you threw up into the toilet. all thanks to ethan’s horrible sex joke.

he immediately reached over to move some of your hair. you continued retching into the toilet, his hand rubbing soothing circles on your back. "i hate drinking," you grumbled as you laid your forehead on your arm, eyes watery from throwing up. immediately as you got the words out, you threw up again.

"i know, i know.. but i know you're gonna end up drinking again," ethan teased softly, making your back heave as you managed a laugh, only for it to be interrupted by you throwing up again. "it's okay, let it all out." he couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped his lips. “i can’t believe a sex joke made you throw up.”

and you almost laughed again if you didn’t throw up even more.

the sound of the party died into the background as ethan sat next to you on the ground. your head was laying on your arm, which was on the toilet seat. you were still intoxicated, and the world was still spinning, but you could see the obvious turmoil on ethan's face. you poked his arm. "what's wrong?"

"what?" ethan said, snapping out of his daze to send you a tight lipped smile. "nothing's wrong."

"liar."

"i'm not!"

"i know you better than that, e," you murmured, half lidded eyes staring at him. you had thrown up most of your alcohol, and while you were still inebriated, you felt a lot more clear headed than earlier. “what's wrong?"

ethan looked at you, eyes flashing with hurt as he pictured you again dancing with someone else. "do you really want to know?" he asked you, and you nodded. even while drunk, you opted to listen.

"you looked beautiful when you were dancing," ethan began, managing a soft smile, "i don't think i've ever seen you like that. it's not a bad thing or a good thing, but it's a new thing, y'know?" he sighed. "you dance really well, i'm surprised you haven't told me," a genuine smile appeared on his face when he heard you laugh quietly. "and your laugh.. i swear i would listen to it over whatever horrible music is playing right now."

ethan looked at you, taking in your obviously roughed up and intoxicated form. but somehow, even with slightly messy hair and most of your make-up rubbed off and with your breath smelling only a little bit like puke, you still looked beautiful. it was enough to make someone who talked as much as him to go quiet in awe.

"but when you laughed, and when you smiled,” ethan said slowly, taking in heavy breaths with every word. fear thrummed through his body, mingling with the nervousness as he twiddled with his fingers anxiously. to continue on would be to admit everything. to admit how he felt, the thoughts he had been having about you, everything. and to admit it to you would be to risk losing a friendship and one of the most important people in his life.

“.. you weren’t smiling or laughing at me. and i hated that.”

confusion spread over your face before realization hit your eyes. “oh.” and oh, it suddenly all made sense. why ethan was so bothered, why you were so willing to listen to one person speak for forever as long as it was them, why even as you danced with another, something was off because he wasn’t ethan. he wasn’t your best friend.

“you don’t have to say anything,” ethan mumbled, completely misinterpreting your realization for rejection. his eyes watered slightly as he avoided your gaze. “it’s been going on for a while now, and i get it if you don’t feel the same! i really do, it’s just,” he sighed shakily, “i don’t want to lose you—”

“ethan—”

“i was completely willing to just shut up about how i felt as long as that meant i could still have you in my life, y/n,” ethan said, looking into your eyes earnestly. “and i thought i could keep it under wraps but i have to tell you at least once because—”

“i love you.”

“what?” ethan blinked, making you smile, your head still resting on your arm.

“i love you, ethan.”

a toothy smile spread over his face at that, his shoulders relaxing as he searched your face for any doubt. “are you— are you sure?”

“i wouldn’t say it if i wasn’t,” you murmured softly as you raised your head, making ethan laugh in relief.

“holy shit— i love you too.” ethan said, leaning forward, only for you to stop him.

“e, i might throw up on you if you kiss me.”

“do you think i care?”

#scream 6 imagines #scream 6 smut #ethan landry smut #ethan landry x reader #ethan landry imagines #ethan landry imagine #ethan landry #ethan landry x you #ethan landry fluff #ethan landry x y/n #scream fanfic #scream 6 fanfic #ethan landry fanfiction #scream 6 imagine #scream vi imagine #scream vi smut #scream vi imagines

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adams-angels · 3 months

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Can you do one where Adam sees you as a place holder for his wives and doesn’t respect you ever but when you want to leave him he realizes just how much he truly cares about you and then like over course of a period of time (your choice) we forgive him :)

Thank you for listening ❤️

This was a fun one! I love a bit of angst. Can't get enough of the stuff!!

💖 Please send me requests! Send me your own headcanons! I will draw! I'm obsessed rn!💖

Reader POV because I got a similar ask which I'll write as Adams POV

Used

It's all I ever asked for. To be respected. To be loved. It wasn't fair. Why did I have to be alone and wait for him while he was out galavanting around the heavens! How was it fair? He'd only ever sees me for sex. He wouldn't reply to my texts but god fucking forbid I miss one of his texts.

Or in this case ignore. I've had enough. I'm not being second choice anymore! So I texted him "we're done." I know it's cowardly to "break up" via text but it's not even like we were dating! I placed my phone down on my side table. I should of put it on silent. Why didn't I put it on silent.

Curling up on my bed, tears flowing from my eyes as I hear the vibration on my phone. He's either calling or text bombing me. I pick up my phone to see several missed called and about 20 texts already.

You think you're better than me?!

You're nothing!

I'm Adam!! I can get ANYONE I FUCKING WANT

YOU THINK I NEED YOU?!

I sob.

I must of fallen asleep during my crying of self pity. I stretch out my arms as I sit up only to see Adam at the doorway. I scream in surprise, falling off my bed hitting my phone off the nightstand in the process. "Adam?! What the hell are you doing in my apartment?!" I yell at him.

He stands there, looming over me. "You want to leave me?" He asked, never had I heard him so emotionless. I tut as I stand up. "You say that like you cared." I retort, picking my phone up from the floor. "Don't look at that." He took a step towards me, reaching out but I pulled away. "Why? You next me nasty shit? Telling me I'm worthless? That I was lucky to -" he interrupted, "y/n, I'm sorry. I just want to know what I did wrong."

I can't help but sigh, collapsing on my bed, hair covering my face. "I just... I can't... I don't want to be a place holder for you." I can hear Adam moving closer, his wings dragging across the floor. "What are you talking about?" One of his hands land on mine. "I don't want to be someone you just use until you find someone better." His fingers interlace with mine as his other hand brushes my hair from my face revealing my teary eyes. "I just want to be... I don't know, Adam."

His hand cups my face and I just can't help but melt into his touch. "Be mine?" I shrug in response. Clearing his throat he clarifies, "no, I'm asking. Be mine." I can't help but look at him like an idiot, my heart skipping a beat. "What?" He recoiled. "I mean, maybe we could start again? Like.. properly?"

"You mean like.. date? What happened to "I don't date. I'm the first man. I have the first penis ever bla bla!"" He stares at me with a blank expression. "I don't sound like that." "You do." Adam brow furrows in what I can only assume is annoyance. "Whatever, y/n, please. I can't lose you. I don't want to lose you. Please don't leave me." Never have I seen him look so weak. So... Small? "I'll have to think about it." I can't tell if he feels relieved or worried. Maybe both. "H-how long will that take?" He asked with a hint of desperation.

"I don't know, Adam." I shrug. My words hung in the air. "I really care about you, y/n. You have to believe me, babe." He kissed my hand before releasing it. "Just.. uh... Delete those texts. I didn't mean any of it." I watch as he leaves my apartment. No through the door of course, no, he always had to leave from the balcony. I usually watch as he flies away. But not this time..

It's been about a month since I last spoke to Adam. I've seen him about. Doing his thing. It makes me laugh. When ever he notices me he freezes up. Just last week he was talking to Sera and as soon as he noticed me walk past he just stared. I swear I heard Sera say "earth to Adam."

Today I decided. I head towards his office, walking past several anxious angles. I heard yelling come from inside his office and then something smash. Before I could knock the door swung open and standing before me was a very frustrated Adam. His feathers were literally ruffled. "Y/n?" He was surprised to see me but his expression changed quickly as he remembered in was in the presence of his underlings. "Come in." He stands aside letting you in to his office. It was mess. I mean, I've seen it messy before but this was a whole new level. Documents everywhere, a smashed mug on the floor and coffee stains on the wall. "Bad day?" I commented he grumbled in response. "There are no bad days in heaven."

He slumps down on his chair, watching me as I walk over to his office window, opening it to get some of that heavenly fresh air in. "So... I thought about it." He perks up, sitting straight. "And?"

"and I'm willing to start again. Properly." I don't even get a chance to turn and face him before he's already darted from his chair wrapping me in his arms. "Fuck, thank fucking Christ. Don't do that to me again. Please." His wings surrounded us. "Please, I'm sorry. I'll treat you so much better." "Promise?" "Yes, promise."

～⁠♡✧⁠｡ I really hope you enjoyed! I'm not a writer by any means but I appreciate any support I receive so thank you for reading! ｡✧⁠♡～⁠

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin adam #hazbin hotel adam #hazbin hotel adam x reader #hazbin hotel smut #adam x reader #hazbin hotel adam smut

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xavieryaa · 11 months

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The Reddit Blackout, #196, And Being New to Tumblr

okay i've seen a lot of people in the past ~24 hours or so confused by everything going on with Reddit & Tumblr from both sides - people new to tumblr who don't know how to use it, and tumblr users who don't know what's going on with reddit and why many of its users have joined up here i know this isn't really related to my blog but fun fact about me: i was up until recently a very active reddit user and even mod a subreddit, but I've also been on tumblr for about 3 years now on different accounts, so I think I can see pretty well from both sides of this and explain what's going on this post will be split in 2 sections: what happened with reddit (and what #196 means), and a guide for new users

1. What The Hell Is Going On With Reddit?

The thing that's caused all this ruckus is a major change to Reddit's API, which is what Reddit provides to people so they can pull directly from Reddit to make third-party apps or tools.

The change is that Reddit is changing its previously free API to be paid. Which on its own kinda sucks for developers, but it's not unexpected. They need to make money somehow, right?

The problem is that the API pricing is WAY TOO FUCKING EXPENSIVE. The developer of the most popular 3rd party Reddit app, Apollo, says it will cost him $20 million a year to continue running the app as normal.

Essentially, this pricing forces almost everything third-party to shut down, which causes 3 major problems:

Third-party apps cannot keep running, which sucks for normal users because Reddit's official app is awful. It's slow, its video player is a thing of nightmares, it doesn't have many useful features third-party developers have made.

It sucks even more for visually impaired users because they can't use the official Reddit app at all. Reddit's official app does not work with iOS's native text-to-speech function. Third party apps, on the other hand, often do. So Reddit is forcing blind users away.

Third-party moderator tools cannot keep running, which sucks for moderators because many rely on these tools to properly moderate their subreddits. And moderators are often necessary, because without them subreddits get banned and hate speech and even CSA can often run rampant.

So you see why this change is bad.

Reddit users were PISSED.

So over the past week and a half or so, they have been working on organizing a site-wide blackout. The majority of the most active subreddits have now gone private. Some are only doing it for 48 hours, others (such as r/196) are doing it indefinitely.

That's why you can't access most of Reddit right now, and that's why many users have come here.

You're probably still wondering, though - what is this #196?

Well, as you may guess, it's connected to that subreddit r/196 I just mentioned. r/196 is a subreddit which only has one rule: every time you visit, you must post before you leave.

That's it, that's the subreddit.

The thing about r/196 that set it apart from most other subreddits - and what lends the subreddit's users perfectly to Tumblr - is that it was dominated by queer and leftist users.

So now they've come here and set up shop in #196 and r/196 so they can continue their merry little shitposting.

There's a ton of lore related to r/196, actually, but this is already a long tumblr post and quite frankly I cannot be bothered to write about it at the moment.

2. I'm Here From Reddit, What Now?

Hello there, random new user. As a double-citizen of Reddit and Tumblr, let me show you around this place.

First off, there are some other people who are better at explaining that I am who have made some really helpful things. Watch this Strange Aeons video as a guide to Tumblr culture and functionality and read this post which directly compares Reddit and Tumblr.

Assuming you've done that, here's some additional advice of my own:

Do you miss sorting subreddits by top of all time/the year/the month? Well, you can do something very similar with tags! If you go to a tag at the top of the screen you can select top, and then at the dropdown that says "all time" you can select different time periods! Even 6 months, which Reddit hasn't ever had.

Tumblr has a lot of cool customization features! Even outside your icon/banner/bio, you can change you blog colors and on desktop you can have an html theme (which has its own thriving community here). That customization is part of what sets Tumblr apart from everywhere else - I think you'll enjoy playing with it.

Notes will probably confuse you at first. Unlike the different numbers for upvotes and comments, notes combines the total number of likes, reblogs, and replies into the same number.

Outside of organizing your own blog, when making your own posts tags are what help other people find your post. Use them! But don't abuse them, because then people will just block you.

There are three ways of people finding your post: if someone follows you, if someone follows the tag(s) assigned to your post, and if someone is just scrolling through the tag(s) assigned to your post (and also the secret 4th way no one uses, which is finding it on the trending page, but even if people did use it no one will find your post initially that way)

tumblr is no longer The Discourse Website. And unlike what Reddit wants you to believe for some reason, it is very much alive still. Most of the people seeking fights have moved to Twitter (though some have also moved back here again). You will not get any brownie points for being a dipshit like you do on some subreddits.

So there, welcome to the hellsite (affectionate), you'll pick up on all the in-jokes eventually, for now just try not to be a nuisance and soon enough this'll be your new internet home.

#reddit #reddit blackout #reddit migration #196 #r/196 #reddit refugee #new to tumblr #long post #text post #xavi.txt

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steddiehyperfixation · 4 months

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don't you forget about me (part seven)

(part one)(part two)(part three)(part four)(part five)(part six)

Eddie takes back everything he’d thought before; sex dreams are so much worse actually, especially when you wake up to the subject of them holding your hand. His face turns bright red the second his eyes open and land on Steve. He sits upright immediately, bunching up the blankets over his lap.

The pounding of his heart - aka the rapid beeping of the heart monitor - alerts Steve who snaps awake instantly and tightens his grip on Eddie’s hand as he asks with urgent concern, “Are you alright? Did you have another nightmare?”

“No, no, definitely not a nightmare.” Eddie’s cheeks burn, feels the flush reach his ears and down his neck too. He clears his throat. “Just, uh- just a weird dream, that’s all. Not bad, just…weird, yeah. I’m fine.”

Steve relaxes. “Okay.” He hesitates, then adds hopefully, “Was it, uh- Do you think it was a memory?”

Eddie shakes his head. “Definitely not.”

“What makes you so sure?” Steve asks.

“It was fantasy.” Eddie’s eyes rake over Steve, and he tries not to wonder just how accurate his dream was.

Steve raises a skeptical eyebrow. “Fantasy?”

“Yeah, fantasy. So unless you have some truly awesome news to give me about the existence of dragons,” Eddie lies (better to have Steve think he’d dreamt of riding on a dragon rather than that he’d dreamt of Steve riding him), “I’m pretty sure it was just a regular old dream.”

“Oh.” Steve's face falls; and Eddie almost wants to take it all back and tell a different lie, that it had been a memory, but he doesn't. “Yeah, no, I've yet to run into any dragons yet, I’m sorry.”

“No, I’m sorry,” Eddie says, running his thumb over Steve's hand. “I wish it was a memory. I mean- I wish I had more memories, and I'm sorry that I don't. I'm sorry that makes you so sad.”

The apology only makes Steve look sadder. “Oh, Eddie, no, it's okay.” He shakes his head, squeezes Eddie's hand. “Don't apologize for that. It's not like you chose to forget.”

“I know. I’m still sorry though,” Eddie responds quietly. His dream-sparked lust has since curbed into something softer, inevitably. He looks into those downturned and devastating brown puppy dog eyes. “I didn't choose to forget, but I’m still the reason you're sad - I know that, so I'm sorry.”

It's Steve this time who mutters “You don't have to worry about me so much, Eds, I'm alright,” and it's Steve this time who clasps Eddie’s hand in both of his and brushes a kiss over his knuckles.

It sends a rush through Eddie's whole body to feel Steve's lips against his skin - in real life, that is. Heat rises in his cheeks again, heart rate kicking up for the millionth time. “Uh- yeah, uh, o-okay,” he stutters, can’t seem to form a coherent thought or sentence right now. He pulls his hand away and runs his fingers through his hair instead, changing the subject, “Um. Are you, uh- are you sticking around today?”

“Yeah.” Though there’s still a trace of sadness behind his eyes, there’s something like flirtation there too as Steve smirks and says, “I’m all yours today.”

God. Eddie really is done for, isn’t he.

It’s no wonder, then, that after spending another full day with Steve, another full day of being subjected to Steve’s bittersweet smiles and friendly banter and (that is, if Eddie’s not just being delusional, which is a very real and probable possibility) the occasional flirty comment, Eddie’s dreams soon turn sappy again:

They were sitting in some restaurant, in a corner booth, holding hands behind a propped up menu. Steve was looking gorgeous in a tastefully tight polo and perfectly styled hair streaked with gold, and he looked at Eddie with that warm little smile that always made his heart glow. It overflowed; Eddie almost couldn't take it.

He said, “I know you said you wanted to do things right, so after how many dates can I ask you to be my boyfriend?”

Steve's smile grew, eyes wide with a sort of wonder and disbelief and anticipation that was vaguely reminiscent of a child on christmas morning. “I, uh- I think the third date is just fine.”

“Okay, good.” Eddie grinned. He caught Steve's other hand and held it right there out in the open without a care who saw or heard. “Because I like you so so much; you’re the best person I know, Stevie, and I wanna lock this down before someone else comes along and snatches you up. I want to be your boyfriend more than anything, and I want you to be mine, if you want that too. So, what do you say?”

Steve must not’ve cared who saw or heard either because he immediately lunged across the table to kiss him, holding Eddie's hands tight as he pressed their lips together fervently.

Eddie certainly wasn't about to complain. He indulged the kiss for a good long few moments before he pulled back to double check, “So that was a yes, right?”

“Yeah, dumbass,” Steve laughed, fond and bright and beautiful. “That was absolutely a yes.”

That ache is back when Eddie wakes up, the wanting, the wishing.

He thinks this dream falls somewhere in between the events of the last two, like his brain is turning this fantasy into a whole connected narrative now, building and fleshing out this wishful story of him and Steve. Unless… No. Eddie can't let himself think like that. If these dreams have been memories, if that had really been the type of relationship they'd had, surely Steve would've said something. It's not unusual for Eddie's daydreams to become so involved and become entire worlds. This is, as he tells himself for the third time now, just another case of his overactive imagination.

Steve doesn't ask about his dreams again, and he soon leaves for work and isn't around much that day, but that still doesn't stop Eddie's mind from continuing the fiction when he falls asleep holding Steve's hand, as always now, that night:

Eddie sat on Steve's couch, his arm slung casually around Steve's shoulders as Steve leaned against him and idly played with the rings on Eddie's other hand while a movie played on the TV in front of them. It was Steve's turn to pick the movie, and there was a time when Eddie would've rolled his eyes and scoffed at the suggestion of watching The Breakfast Club, but it had just come out on VHS and Steve was so excited about it and Eddie was more than happy now to sit just there and watch Steve watch it. Because Steve was smiling and humming along to the songs on the soundtrack, and Eddie felt, suddenly, with such simple certainty that this is where he was meant to be, that this is who he was going to spend the rest of his life with.

Something must've changed in his expression, in his stare, because Steve soon rolled his head to the side to look at Eddie and asked with an amused (and vaguely confused) smile, “What?”

“Nothing, I just-” Eddie shook his head, pressed a kiss to Steve's temple and then said like it was the easiest thing in the world, “I think I've fallen in love with you.”

Steve laughed as if this great big relief just bubbled free from his chest. “Oh thank god,” he said. “I’m in love with you too.”

Eddie believed him, knew it with the same certainty as before. They shared gentle smiles and a sweet, chaste kiss. Steve slipped an arm around Eddie's waist and curled closer against his side. He went right back to watching the movie and Eddie went right back to watching Steve. And that was all there was to it.

Clear, effortless, uncomplicated. Because how could they be anything else but in love with each other?

Eddie sighs when he blinks awake. His eyes slowly shift to the side and he looks at Steve strangely for a few silent moments.

Steve asks, “What?”

Eddie's cheeks tinge pink, and Steve wonders, not for the first time, what Eddie had been dreaming about. He gets a devastating sense of deja vu when Eddie shakes his head and says, “Nothing.” But it stops there where Steve's memory doesn't.

Although, Eddie is still considering him in that weird, just short of familiar way, and Steve wonders - again, not for the first time - if maybe Eddie just might remember too. But surely he'd say something if he did.

Eddie taps his fingers against Steve's hand and asks after a long minute. “Are you gonna be around tomorrow?”

“I can be.” Steve is scheduled to work tomorrow, but he'd call out sick in an instant if Eddie asked him to.

“Okay, because, uh, that's when the doctor’s gonna have me try to walk and when they're gonna teach me and Wayne how to take care of my wounds at home for when I’m discharged, and I, um, I want you to be there for that too,” Eddie says.

Steve finds himself a little surprised by this. “You really want me there?”

“Yeah, I mean, If you don't mind,” Eddie starts, rambling like he's suddenly scared Steve might refuse, “I know it's not the most fun thing to be here for, but I just figured whatever the doctor tells us tomorrow you should know too, just in case, you know, like I might need you one day and Wayne can't be around all the time and-”

“I’ll be there, Eddie,” Steve assures him, squeezing his hand. “Of course I’ll be there.”

And so he is. He calls out of work the next day, much to Keith’s annoyance, and stands there as the room fills with doctors and nurses and Eddie's uncle Wayne.

Eddie's mobility is tested first. He makes a soft grunt of pain as he's instructed to swing his legs over the side of the bed, and then another when the doctor taps his knee and his injured leg kicks with the assessment of his reflexes. Satisfied with that response, the doctor moves on to pressing various pressure points on Eddie’s leg to measure how much he can feel (and Steve tries very hard not to feel so weirdly irrationally jealous at watching the doctor feel up Eddie's leg). After a few more soft painful hisses that let the doctor know Eddie's nerve endings are intact - or whatever it was she was testing - he's told to try and stand. He's understandably apprehensive, hesitant. The doctor and his uncle help coax him off the bed; the competent and the familiar. Steve hangs back still, sure he's not needed for this.

But the second Eddie attempts to put pressure on his injured limb and he stumbles, his hand shoots out and it's Steve’s name he calls, as if on instinct. And, on instinct, Steve is there in a second to grab his hand and assist in steadying him. “I've got you,” he murmurs, guiding Eddie to the walker that's been set out for him. Eddie limps a few more feet with the help of the walker and the encouragement of Steve’s (hopefully) comforting hand on his shoulder until the doctor calls it and tells Eddie he can rest again.

Once Eddie makes it back onto the bed, collapsing back into the pillows with a haggard sigh, the doctor and nurses immediately crowd him again, try to go straight into the next step of redressing his wounds.

“Give him a second,” Steve snaps, protectively holding onto Eddie's hand and leaning over him. “Can't you see he's exhausted?”

The doctor shoots the only other proper adult in the room a weary look.

“They know what they're doing, kid.” Wayne's heavy hand lands on Steve's shoulder, both a reassurance and an alert for him to back off.

“I’m okay, Stevie,” Eddie adds. He gives Steve a tired smile and squeezes his hand before prying it out of Steve's hold. “It's alright.”

Steve reluctantly relents and steps back to give the medical professionals space to continue.

Eddie's shirt is pushed up so the bandages on his chest and stomach are accessible as the nurses begin to explain and demonstrate the process of taking care of the injuries. Steve watches, listens intently, wants to absorb every ounce of information so he can best tend to Eddie if need be. Then his eyes flick up and he accidentally makes dead eye contact with Eddie who seems to realize then just how vulnerable and exposed he is right now because his cheeks burn red and his heart rate suddenly increases.

The nurses don't seem to be too worried about this - if anything, they exchange knowing glances with everyone else in the room except Eddie and Steve before they continue their demonstration. Steve isn't worried either anymore - if anything, he finally resigns himself fully to the fact, the irrefutable proof, that Robin was right and Eddie really does have a schoolboy crush on him again.

Steve does his best to keep paying attention, but in the background his mind is spinning and his heart aching.

On the one hand it’s kind of sweet to know Eddie's feelings are not gone completely, that some level of attraction still swirls to the surface even through the empty space in his memory. And Steve has been indulging that crush the past couple days, little comments of flirtation just to feel like he still has Eddie in some way, just to see the reaction and have some evidence that Eddie still feels something at all for him. (Stupid, selfish.)

But on the other hand it is just a crush. Eddie used to love him, but now that's halved; and that's a very specific kind of agony.

Steve’s not sure how much longer he can handle this.

Something passed between them when they made eye contact; something sweet and sad flitted across Steve's expression, as it often does, but he looked away when Eddie blushed and has been avoiding his eyes again since.

When the nurses are done showing them how to wrap him up, Steve retreats, saying kindly, though still not quite looking at him, “I'm gonna go get you some water, alright?”

“Oh, yeah, thanks.” Eddie smiles gratefully after him.

“Your boyfriend seems sweet,” Nurse Katie comments, carefully, as she secures the last of the fresh bandages.

“Excuse me?” Eddie coughs, chokes on his own spit, spluttering, “I’m- he's not- we’re- it’s- um. He’s not my boyfriend.”

“Oh, sorry,” the nurse is quick to apologize. “I didn't mean to assume, I just thought since he's always in here holding your hand, even before you woke up-”

“We're friends,” Eddie says shortly. He feels a little dizzy at what she's suggesting and would really rather her stop talking.

“Alright, my mistake.” Katie backs off the subject.

Steve returns then anyways, further killing that topic of conversation. He hands a cup of water to Eddie, who takes it with another muttered “thanks” and starts gulping it down while the doctor goes off on some spiel about the process of having him discharged and more tests they’ll have to do tomorrow. Eddie’s not paying attention. He’s too tired.

Not long after that, the doctor and nurses file out of the room, and Wayne stands to leave too. “I’m glad the two of you are getting close again,” he mentions to Steve and Eddie on his way out. “You were good for each other.”

Whatever that means.

Eddie doesn’t have the brainpower left to contemplate that. Being poked and prodded and trying to walk took a lot out of him. He’s exhausted, achy all over. It’s barely even late enough to be dinner time yet, but he could honestly just pass out right now. He sets his finished water cup on the bedside table and his now free hand reaches, once again, for Steve.

“Tired?” Steve asks as he catches Eddie’s hand.

“Mhmm.” Eddie settles against his pillows, closing his eyes. He adds in a sleepy mumble, “’M glad you were here today.”

“Me too.”

He feels Steve’s lips slide gently across the back of his hand, and then Eddie slides gently into sleep.

Immediately, though, his dreams are not gentle; for the first time since he’s been falling asleep with Steve’s hand in his, Eddie dreams of the bats:

Eddie was in that hell dimension, the scene all black and red and dotted with bats. But he wasn’t alone. Nancy Wheeler and Robin Buckley were there too, the three of them fending off the creatures with boat oars, and Steve- Steve was on the ground; two bats gnawed on his sides, another had its tail wrapped around his neck. Eddie’s heart was in his throat, roaring in his ears and pumping pure fear and adrenaline through his veins. He couldn’t save him; all he could do was try his best to keep more bats from joining in on the feast.

Steve, however, seemed perfectly capable of saving himself. He managed to sink his teeth into the bat tail around his neck, getting it to let go. Eddie couldn’t see everything, too busy whacking away more incoming bats, but when the last of this fleet of creatures was fought off, Eddie turned back around to find Steve on his feet now, holding a bat by the tail and slamming it against the ground far more times than necessary. He watched as Steve stomped down on the bat’s neck and tore its head from its body. Blood from the bat’s tail hung from Steve’s lips in a thick, dark drip before he spat it into the dirt.

Eddie stared, jaw dropped, pounding heart pumping an entirely different sensation through his veins now. “That was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen in my entire life.”

Steve gave him a bloodstained grin and Eddie’s knees felt weak. He would’ve dropped to the ground in front of him right then and there if-

“Keep it in your pants, Munson.” Robin shoulder-checked him as she walked past. “At least until we get the hell out of hell.”

Eddie settled instead for sidling up to Steve and, after taking a second to make sure he was alright, whispering low and close to Steve’s ear, “If we were anywhere else and you weren’t injured right now…” The muttered end of that sentence was something so filthy it made Steve’s face burn red, and he laughed.

“Freak,” Steve said affectionately as he smacked a kiss to Eddie’s cheek.

Eddie was quick to turn his head and catch Steve’s lips, locking them together in something searing and intense.

“Boys!” Nancy snapped impatiently from a few feet ahead, which startled them apart. “Seriously? Time and place, come on.”

Both Eddie and Steve laughed as they followed after the girls.

Eddie wakes up a little bit disoriented from that dream. He doesn’t know what to call it: Was it a nightmare or not? Was it a memory or another fantasy? The lines are blurred and Eddie finds himself confused.

Steve must’ve seen this on his face because he asks, “Everything alright?”

“Yeah…” Eddie answers slowly. “I had a dream about the Upside Down…but it wasn’t quite a nightmare, I don’t think. I’m just- I’m not sure if it was a memory or not.” He hesitates, then decides screw it, he might as well try to get some sort of clarification on the reality of some details of his dream. “Did you…rip a bat in half with your bare hands?”

“I did, yeah,” Steve confirms. His expression shifts, sparking with something like hope.

“And, uh, did I tell you that was the hottest thing I’d ever seen?”

“You did, yeah.”

“Okay, cool,” Eddie says, reeling. “Just checking.”

Steve is watching him almost expectantly, but when Eddie doesn’t say anything more on the subject, his face falls into something more like disappointment.

(final part is here!) taglist (CLOSED): @romanticdestruction @daydreamsandcrashingwaves @paintsplatteredandimperfect @hallucinatedjosten @mugloversonly @estrellami-1 @alongcomesaspider @thatonebadideapanda @tell-me-a-secret-a-nice-one @dragonmama76 @wxrmland @nuggies4life @sirsnacksalot @myguiltyartpleasure @lolawonsstuff @marklee-blackmore @vinteraltus @sebastiansstanswhore @0happyeverafter0 @scarlet-malfoy @hotluncheddie @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @emsgoodthinkin @alyelf @warlordess @stevesbipanic @lil-gremlin-things @rockandrolodex @badcaseofcasey @bat-outta-hel @fandomcartographer @manda-panda-monium @littlewildflowerkitten @giopandaonice @mightbeasleep @queenie-ofthe-void @krazyperson @worldofshea @marvel-ous-m @tartarusknight @a-little-unsteddie @xenon-demon @goodolefashionedloverboi @xxsky-shockxx @mc-i-r @bookbinderbitch @aspenshade88 @slowandsteddie @thedragonsaunt @daydreaming-mood @space-invading-pigeon @irregular-child @a-lovely-craziness (taglist continued in replies; please lmk if you'd like to be removed from this list. if you didn't make the taglist but still wanna follow along, you can follow the tag #dyfamsteddiefic to keep up with new updates!)

#lots going on here. medical inaccuracies and self-indulgent dreams lmao #our boys will finally get their shit together in the next part i promise and i am just as excited for that as the rest of y'all #steddie #steddie angst #steddie fic #steddie fanfic #steddie fanfiction #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #fanfic #mine #dyfamsteddiefic

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onestopfanficshop · 1 year

Text

könig headcanons

warnings: afab!reader, mentions of unprotected sex, oral sex, thigh riding and fucking, and an (accidentally) broken condom lol

A/N: this is so self indulgent LMFAO. can you believe i've had this sitting in my drafts for over three weeks? i hope y'all enjoy bc there's not enough content for this man fr! gif not mine :)

will use your fingers as a human fidget toy

he likes to rub his chin when he’s thinking real hard about something

loves grapes (green ones only, and they have to be cold)

the left corner of his nose constantly gets dry for whatever reason so he’s always needing to put extra lotion there

hums under his breath without realizing it and it's the cutest thing ever. especially if he’s alone with you, or if he’s just relaxed and in his element

he really loves to cook but he's too lazy to do the cleanup after he's done

has better than 20/20 eyesight; idk, i just feel deep in my soul that he does

if he's lying on his stomach and you start rubbing his back or scratching it, he'll literally melt it is the most relaxing thing in the world to him

his morning voice is super deep and raspy. i feel so strongly about this it just has to be true

is a snob about bread. he just likes a nice warm loaf of well baked bread okay?

when you first started dating, it would sometimes scare him when he would wake up in the middle of the night and see you lying there peacefully next to him; he had never shared a bed with someone else before so it took him a while to get used to it

but once he does he literally will treat you like a human body pillow. which sounds cute in theory but it's not 😭 like if you need to go pee in the middle of the night, good luck getting yourself untangled from him without waking him up (spoiler alert: it's not really possible to do bc he's the lightest sleeper on planet earth). you can either hold it or deal with a groggy and slightly grumpy könig the next day lolol

is the clingiest bf ever. if you let him, könig will sit on the floor next to you while you’re in the bath and hold your hand if you dangle it off the side of the tub while you watch a show together

speaking of baths this man hates taking them. he's never found a tub big enough to fit him so he just doesn't bother. he hates when his skin gets super wrinkly from being in water for too long anyways

loves to put a bunch of creamers and sweeteners in his coffee. the first time you took him to starbucks he was like a kid in a candy shop when you told him all the different flavored syrups that they had

doesn't like swimming; i mean he knows how to do it (bc of his job) but it's not his favorite thing to do. he feels like the water is always working against him lol

yeah he has social anxiety but when he's with you? especially once he gets comfy with you? yeah that's a different man entirely

like he loves to tease you constantly, is very cocky, and is super funny in a witty dry humor type of way

is absolutely the type of boyfriend to keep a joke going once he sees you're laughing really hard at it just so he can continue to hear your laugh :,)

know how to make jams from scratch for some reason; his favorites are peach and strawberry jam

one time he finished making a fresh batch of jams; you tied cute little ribbons around the jars and jokingly said you were "proud of the jams we made"

könig shaking his head because you didn't do shit except for stir a few times and sneak some tastes when you *thought* he wasn't looking (he's always looking)

buuuut he loves you so he plays along and tells you that you did amazing

makes fun of you if you like to watch cheesy or dumb shows but then 10 minutes later he's on the couch next to you, fully invested and asking you who the characters are and what's going on in the plot

is bad at sharing his food. even with you. he's more than happy to get you seconds but just don't touch his food, alright?

love language is 📢PHYSICAL TOUCH📢

followed by acts of service and quality time obviously. but yeah... the man is handsy. better get used to it

nsfw

first time you guys did it, it was awkward but in a really cute way. he was very, very nervous but also overly confident at the same time somehow? it was a potent mix

he'd watched porn before and gotten himself off but he didn't really know what to expect irl. he just knew that he wanted to make you feel good

when you tried to put one of the condoms you had on him, it broke. this man is huge so EVERY part of him is huge. like it just split clean in half 😭 and he turned bright red and started apologizing profusely

it was super intense up until that happened and you just started bursting into giggles which just made him grab your neck and kiss you to shut you up

that laughter turned into moaning real quick mhm

you eventually just told him to pull out and you would take a morning-after pill just in case; the prospect of fucking you without a condom made him more excited than he wanted to admit

has a ridiculous amount of stamina, we're talking three rounds at the absolute LEAST

LOVES thigh fucking and cannot get enough of it. especially since he can go for a lot of rounds, and if you tire more easily, he loves it as an alternative. something about cumming all over your thighs sends him into overdrive

speaking of thighs, thigh riding? oh yeah. that'll do it for him. that'll do it! his eyes would go so wide with awe at the fact that he could make you feel that good without doing anything. especially if you wrap your hands around his neck and you're so close to his face that your noses are touching; you're panting and trying your hardest not to moan loudly so no one else will hear? he's gonna fucking fall apart

whenever he's on top of you, he's infinitely careful to not put all of his weight own you, despite you telling him multiple times that you wouldn't mind and that you could handle it

dirty talk would get him flustered but at the same time, he'd have the stupidest grin on his face if you did it

if you wear lingerie he'll like- he'll literally die and go to heaven. especially the fancy ones with the garters and the stockings, even though he has absolutely zero clue how they work. like i'm imagining him sitting on the edge of the bed, you standing in front of him and staring right into his eyes as you guide his hands to the garters to take the stockings off (JUST GAVE MYSELF BUTTERFLIES LEMME RUN A LAP REAL QUICK)

okay i'm back where were we

i feel like what he does after you're done sort of depends on you. like if you get a huge burst of energy after sex and you wanna stay up and talk he will totally do it. but also if you're the type of person that immediately falls asleep after he'll go right to sleep with you

if he’s on top and you dig your fingers into his biceps he will bust right then and there. trust me.

THIS MAN EATS PUSSY FOR PLEASURE PERIOD. i will not accept any other truth. he’ll literally grind down into the sheets while he’s eating you out and has probably accidentally came a few times from doing so. he especially loves when your thighs squeeze around his head, and all the pretty little noises you make when he does it. as soon as he can tell you’re close he starts to give you the most intense eye contact while he’s doing it and it’ll probably send you over the edge

he loves being on top because he can cage you in and he has access to your neck to give it non-stop kisses and hickeys

but on the other hand he also loves it when you're on top; his hands will never leave your hips and he'll be gripping onto them like his life depends on it

when he cums, he cums hard and a lot. it's basically like a fountain... sometimes, when he does it while he's still inside of you, there'll be so much that it actually leaks out of you and onto the bed

was kind of self conscious about it and felt bad for making a mess until you told him it was nothing to be embarrassed about and it had actually turned you way on

for someone that doesn't prefer to talk all that much outside, this man is--whew. he is vocal like he is fucking paid to do it. especially when he's about to cum or if you're on top of him. this is a man that is not afraid to moan fr fr.

he's always asking you if you're okay and if what he's doing feels good to you. "is this alright?" is a sentence you've heard countless times and yet it still gives you goosebumps always

unspoken rule that if you're wearing his clothes you're gonna get fucked right then and there 😭 just accept it. könig seeing his SO in his clothes is always gonna do it for him!

#könig #könig cod #könig smut #könig hc #könig x reader #könig mw2 #könig x you #könig call of duty #onestopfanficshop

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welcometowhore-rrorville · 10 months

Note

I AM LIVING FOR YOUR SLASHER HEADCANONS, esp the last post!! but i have a question: what do you think michael would do if the next time he wants to fuck, they’re like “nope, don’t want to, you didn’t make me cum” and is generally just provoking him and saying shit like “i can just find someone that CAN satisfy me” and other dumb shit. would he not care?? get jealous? knife through the door?? so many possibilities

Thank you thank you!!! <3

𝒞𝒶𝓇𝑒𝒻𝓊𝓁 𝒲𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝒴𝑜𝓊 𝒲𝒾𝓈𝒽 𝐹𝑜𝓇

Featuring: Michael Myers

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: oral sex, fingering, rough sex, overstimulation, general nsfw things, mdni, i got carried away, unedited because I didn't think i'd write this much

As for your question(s):

I think it definitely depends on how long you've known him. The only way he'd give a flying fuck about what you think is if he was down bad. Especially if we're talking about the OG Michael. RZ Michael is easier to convince to actually give a shit what you want in bed, but it's still not a priority for him. Still, there are certain personality traits you can exploit to get what you want. . .

When you first brought up that you were unsatisfied in bed, it was a very soft comment after he was done and zipping his jumpsuit back up.

"I didn't even cum. . ." you mumbled, staring at your bare abdomen and leaking cunt. It was all him. You didn't even have the chance to pleasure yourself; it was too difficult with him constantly flipping you over and manhandling you. Your body was sore and bruised, but you laid there, discontent.

You moved your gaze to look at his masked face. Judging by the way he stopped his movements, he'd heard you. You bit your lip, turning your eyes away and down to your hands which fiddled with each other. You knew he didn't care, but it would be nice if he did.

"Just get out, okay?" you spoke, embarrassed and a little angry. "I'll just get myself off since you can't seem to do it."

Your tone had him walking around to the side of the bed, grabbing his discarded knife from the nightstand. You flinched, but didn't bother to run. If he wanted to kill you, he would have already.

Just as you figured, he turned back around, trudging out of your bedroom with the blade in his grip. You rolled your eyes. You were half tempted to call up and old friend of yours for a night, but realized that might end in bloodshed. Michael was much too possessive for that.

Suddenly, an idea crossed your mind. You knew Michael was selfish, but he also always had something to prove. He wanted to, no, needed to be the best at everything. Nobody could escape, outrun, or hide from him, and he knew that. So what if. . .

It was a few days later when he came back, heavy footsteps on your porch alerting you. Still, you pretended not to notice, phone up to your ear as you chatted. You were leaned against the kitchen counter, occasionally popping some popcorn into your mouth.

The door to your house creaked open before shutting again. You paid no mind.

"Go out? Ha," you spoke, fingers moving around a stray popcorn kernel absentmindedly. "If I want to get drunk, I'll do it in my own home, thank you very much."

At this point, he was looming in the kitchen doorway, but you didn't even bother with a glance.

"Oh, go out to meet someone, huh? Yeah, I guess that would be nice. . . I mean sure, there's a guy that stops by, but I'd be lying if I said I was satisfied." You leaned against your fridge, his massive form still lingering just a few feet away.

"It's just. . . other people I've been with have gotten me off four, five times a night, but this guy? Not once. Yeah. You heard me. Not once."

You made sure to emphasize that last phrase. You knew the dangerous game you were playing, but you didn't care. "Talk to him? Girl, I've tried. He's like a brick wall. Doesn't even say goodbye. As soon as he's done he's out the door. Rude? Tell me about it. Sure, I've had better, but he always keeps crawling back looking like a kicked puppy. I just kind of feel sorry for him."

You didn't have time to speak again before the phone was ripped from your grasp and tossed carelessly across the kitchen, plastic pieces shattering across the tile.

One hand wrapped around your throat while the other rested just beside your head, almost denting your poor fridge with the force. The choke was painful but not deadly, and you locked eyes with the culprit, staring intently.

He pulled you against him before slamming you back against the fridge, and you winced at the sudden force. "What's wrong with you?" you sputtered out, your hands trying to fight the grip on your throat.

He glanced at the destroyed phone, and you had to stifle a smirk from appearing on your lips.

With another slam, he finally released his hand from your neck, and you took in a few shaky breaths. Still, he loomed close enough to leave you pressed against him.

"You're angry," you spoke, rubbing the marks forming on your neck. "I assumed Michael Myers never got angry."

He looked to the shattered telephone again before looking back at you. He wanted an explanation.

"What do you want me to say? It's true. And I'm pissed about it. All you ever do is use me then leave. I haven't had a proper orgasm in weeks!" You pushed your hands against his chest angrily, but he didn't budge. "I know you're not a good man, but it still isn't fair. I can't even call anyone because you'll have a knife through their neck before they can get their pants off."

He let out a breath, both hands finding purchase on your hips. "Now's not the time," you huffed, moving to push his hands away. His grip tightened. You headbutted his chest, forehead resting against the rough material of his jumpsuit. How could he be raring to go at a time like this? "Unless you've got anything planned for me tonight, I'm not interested."

He didn't falter. You looked back up to try and read his face through his mask. It did not work. You could tell he was. . . different than usual, but he was probably still pissed off from your words over the phone.

His fingers nestled behind the waistband of your shorts, and in one fell swoop they dropped to the floor. You stayed silent. He never had the decency to take your clothes off. It was always ripped or sliced, and there was never any time taken. Hell, he'd never taken your shorts off without your underwear going with.

You stifled a laugh. Was he actually. . . trying?

He slid a knee between your thighs, pinning you. One hand explored your upper half, sliding under your shirt until he hit your bra. His other hand travelled downwards, slipping underneath your panties. You felt a rough digit slide against your clit and let out a sudden breath. Quickly, he backtracked, moving back up until he found that same spot.

You had to bite your lip to prevent a gasp from leaving it. You couldn't remember the last time you'd been stimulated there. It was suddenly all too-sensitive.

Two fingers caught the small nub, and you had to grip his shoulders to prevent yourself from falling. The digits toyed with it, squeezing and brushing like he was testing something. Your forehead pressed against his chest as heavy breaths left you.

One hand worked at massaging your chest, running a thumb against your nipple, while the other played with your clit harshly. You didn't expect him to be gentle in the slightest, but it still had you shimmying your hips in discomfort. It's not that you weren't aroused, and in fact, you were all too turned on. He'd never shown any interest in any part of you besides your cunt and mouth, and even then it was only to slide his dick into. This? This was all new. This feeling of rough hands overtaking your body, touching your skin, pleasuring you for the first time. . .

You pushed your hips forwards, trying to gain friction. With any luck, you could actually get off tonight.

Suddenly, all hands were off of you and he stepped back, tilting his head.

You rushed to hold yourself up, knees wobbly. You shot daggers at him, eyes burning. He stopped. Why the fuck did he stop?

He stared at you, waiting for something. You crossed your arms over your chest, looking as put-together as you could with wetness creeping down your thighs and shorts discarded on the floor.

"I'm not apologizing, if that's what you want," you muttered. "Congratulations, you found the clit. Took you long enough. You'll have to work a little harder if you're looking to clear your name."

In a flash, he had you hauled over his shoulder, and you let out a gasp of surprise. You could only sigh as he took you to your destination.

You were dropped onto your bed, legs dangling off the front as he pushed you down into the mattress. You cocked a brow.

In an event you'd never thought would happen, he kneeled down in front of you, hands spreading your thighs apart. Was this a dream? You were in shock. There's no way he was going to. . .

You were pulled out of your thoughts when your panties were slid down your legs and tossed aside. It didn't take long before one hand was back between your legs, rubbing your clit as the other pressed against your stomach to keep you in place. You couldn't move your thighs which were locked apart, blocked by his shoulders.

You couldn't sit up with the way he had you pinned, and so stared at the ceiling, hands gripping the sheets.

A new sensation startled you, and you tried desperately to sit up enough to see, but it was no use.

It was his tongue, dragging up your folds until he reached your clit. He took the nub in his mouth, and you had to slap a hand over your mouth to prevent the noise that threatened to come out.

That old and familiar feeling built within you, like a spring coiling and coiling, ready to snap. Your mind went blank as a tension built within you. It was like everything but your cunt was numb. There, feeling was in overdrive. Every swipe of his tongue, every prod of his fingers inside of you, swiping forward to push against your favorite spot: it was too much.

You came with a breathless gasp, back arched as your hands dug into the sheets. Even without seeing, you knew your cunt was a mess. You could feel your cum seeping out. You could smell the scent of sex in the room. Your thighs shook, pussy clenching around nothing.

You expected him to pull back, but instead you felt his tongue licking at your cunt, swiping up any spill into his mouth. You let out a whine as he prodded inside, tongue lapping up your wetness.

Digits were back to circling your clit, and you moaned, still much too sensitive. Despite this, he had no intentions of stopping, instead switching out his fingers for his mouth as he thrust a finger inside of you. You had no time to process before another joined the first. Your head pressed desperately against your bedsheets.

"Slow down," you gasped, voice shaking. He didn't heed your words, and in fact, sped up the way his fingers pushed in and out of you. You whined. The tension was already back and ready to snap within you.

"Michael," you cried, eyes clenched shut. "Please!" You weren't sure what you were pleading for.

You came again, more violently than the last. Over and over your cunt pulsed, leaking your cum to pool at your enterance, only to be pushed back in with the shove of his fingers.

"Okay! Okay! You win!" you panted, wiping the sweat from your face.

When he still showed no signs of letting up, all you could do was let out a weak groan. You got what you desired, you supposed. But it seemed he found something he liked as well.

All this because you decided to talk a little shit about him. You didn't dare tell him there was nobody on the other line.

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lucyandalexiafan · 3 months

Text

Blow off steam | Alexia Putellas x reader | part 4

summary: aftercare

warnings: light angst (?), self-dubt, fluff (romantic sex at the end), Alexia feeling guilty, reader is confused by how he feels after the intercourse.

words: 2.9 k

I turn on my back.

She gets between my legs.

Her body on mine, her breasts against mine.

Her nipples are straight against my skin.

Is she horny?

Her thighs are between mine, forcing me to keep them open.

I look at her lips.

They compose a faint smile.

The teeth that bite the lower one.

Ale handles the tie that kept my hands attached to the headboard of the bed for a few minutes in an attempt to untie the knot, probably now very tight due to the constant tugging.

She sighs in relief when she succeeds.

She throws the tie on the ground.

Her arms grab my wrists and kisses the marks she left.

They're sore like the rest of my body.

The orgasm was overwhelming.

It invaded every millimeter of my body.

A level of ecstasy I'd never felt before.

She asks me how I am.

My eyes are clouded with excitement.

From fatigue.

From exhaustion.

As much as I enjoyed it, it was definitely a long and difficult intercourse.

A intercourse to which I am certainly not used.

My butt starts to ache from too much spanking.

My breasts burn here and there, just like my pussy and inner thighs.

How many times has she spanked me?

I point my eyes into hers.

"I... good," I whisper.

She kisses my lips.

The forearms on the sides of my head on which she rests.

"You're the best girl in the world, you know?"

I blush, looking away.

How do you alternate that sadism with this kindness?

Is she sincere?

My cheeks are on fire.

Her fingers touch light them.

"Hmm?"

I nod hesitantly, leaning against her hand.

"Thank you, Ale" I whisper with a light and existing voice.

The body is still caught up in contractions from time to time.

I squeeze my thighs instinctively, pressing her body against mine.

She asks me again how I feel as she kisses my cheek a few times.

I'm fine.

Stunned.

Tired.

But fine.

Personal Slut.

I chase away intrusive thought, trying not to dwell on it.

Not to reflect on the meaning.

On the words.

On what it can mean.

Why if I liked it so much, do I feel so humiliated by these two words?

Why just from them and not also for the other time she called me slut?

She smiles at me kindly, lovely.

Did she love calling me like this?

Does she think that i am just it?

"Maybe it would be better if you put some oil on the redness that you have almost everywhere on your body, what do you think? Or tomorrow it's going to hurt more."

She chuckles at the thought of what she's done.

I hold her in a hug.

I don't want her to go away.

I don't want the physical contact to end.

I want her to stay here.

With me.

That she hugs me.

I need her to stay here.

To know that she's sincere.

That she loves me.

That she cares.

That I've been good.

That I'm not just a slut, just her personal slut.

That I means something for her that is not only sexual.

Why have I so many doubts?

My legs wrap tighter around her torso.

"Stay here a little longer - I hesitate - please"

She smiles not far from my lips.

"I'm not leaving, baby, I'm staying here"

Personal Slut.

I nod hesitantly while I hide my face in her neck.

It was all so passionate.

So rough.

So dominant.

I didn't expect it.

Was I ready?

Was I as good as she says?

Maybe she says it to make me happy, to make me quiet and more open to do this other times.

To be her personal slut other times.

I asked her to do this, to blow off steam on me, so why do I feel so insecure?

I close my eyes shaking my head, the forehead rubbing the skin of her neck.

"C-can you kiss me?" I ask hesitantly after moving my face away from her neck.

Like I'm scared she'd punish me again.

That she will be mad.

That she doesn't want.

She smiles, innocently kissing me several times. Lips that touch lips.

I'm looking for the deeper, more romantic, kiss.

The type of kiss that will infuse me her love.

She keeps the pace slow.

Lovely.

Kind.

Her tongue touching mine.

My hands end up in her hair.

I touch them hesitantly.

As to massage your scalp.

After a few minutes she rests her forehead against mine.

"The best little girl in the world - she kisses my nose - My little girl"

Personal Slut.

I close my eyes.

Does she really think it?

I tighten my arms around her neck again.

Her head slid next to mine.

"I-I," I sigh, "can you hug me?" I whisp.

She turns the situation and she ends against the mattress.

Half of my body is on her, my shoulder that touches her chest, my leg between hers.

One of her arms is under me, and she quickly moves it on my back, near the other, to close me in a tight hug.

She rests her head on top of mine.

She runs her nails lightly on my skin.

A steady but gentle motion.

As she's trying to comfort me.

She giggles when she hears my breath becaming quiet.

Getting slower.

More relaxed.

I don't know what I'm supposed to do.

What should I do?

What should I say?

"My beautiful little girl"

I sigh.

What should I tell her?

She holds me close to her like she knows I need it.

She kisses me again.

"Someone's really tired, huh?" she whispers, teasing me before kissing me again.

I nod against her chest.

I tense my body to stretch it.

The sound of a couple of snaps fills the room and she giggles.

I blush, closing my eyes.

We pass a long time in this way.

Her hands touching my back lightly, my cheek on her chest, my fingers touching lightly her belly.

No sounds, no words.

Just my breath and her breath.

"I'm sorry to have lost control of my words baby - I open my eyes wide - To have lost control and to have gotten too much caught up in the situation"

She kisses my hair.

The tone of voice is low.

Sad.

I tilt my head towards her.

Her gaze is perhaps pensive.

I bite my lip.

Our eyes set.

"I shouldn't have gone so far with degradation, not when it was the first time we did this kind of thing in this way - she pauses, her eyes almost veiled by guilt - Not when you asked me praises too"

Is she sad?

Mad with herself?

What should I tell her?

I don't speak.

I don't try to comfort her.

Am I selfish for this?

"I don't think those things baby... That you're a slut or the other things, you know it, right? - I nod against the mattress - The whole situation has taken hold of my head... It shouldn't have happened."

I bite my lip harder

It was not the first time that she called me slut or whore during sex.

It happens at least three times every time we do this type of sex.

But maybe... this time, this time she called me in this way too much time.

Or maybe because she was so rough and fake-lovely ad never before.

"I... - I hesitate - I really liked it"

"But?" she whispers.

Is she insecure?

Her?

I look away.

"I didn't expect it," I whisper in a faint voice.

Will she get angry?

Will she be upset?

The image of her eyes calling me in that way by squeezing my neck is heavenly.

But it's a bit scary at the same time.

Will she be disappointed?

"I loved this. I-I asked you for it before, I wanted it - I say it hoping she understands that I am alluding to the intercourse itself - It was so perfect"

I lick my lip.

I'm searching for the words, my mind still clouded by orgasm.

"I... I didn't think I could like it so much the degradation"

My cheeks burn with the humiliation of admitting it.

Am I so submissive?

So needy?

Is this normal?

"Maybe we could do it again in this way," she says hesitantly, "Without that word or so rough."

I nod hesitantly.

"What you want Reina, you always know what I like," I chuckle at her expression, "I-I would have used the safeword if I hadn't... you know, liked it"

She nods in a trance.

"You've asked me so many times, the safeword, so I knew you'd stop in case"

It's so hard to admit that I trust her.

Do I really trust her or am I trying to consoling her, to please her?

She smiles at my words, knowing how complicated it is for me to say it normally.

She kisses my forehead.

"My perfect little girl"

"Your perfect little girl... masochist little girl"

She giggles knowing I'm repeating her words.

"And innocent at the same time" she chuckles, "I'll never understand how you can be as ambivalent as you are amor."

I smile embarrassed.

I don't know.

Have I to justify it?

"If I continue to rub your back for a while, will you let me put the oil on you?"

I sneer.

"Maybe," I say, amused.

"Baby," she admonishes me.

I laugh.

A shy, but pure, laughter.

I nod.

"Yes, Ale".

I turn, my belly against the mattress.

Her nails run lightly against my back's skin.

"You're so beautiful baby - I gasp - So perfect"

I tighten the pillow.

Does she really think so?

She crawls her fingers long over my spine and I arch my back reflexively.

“Someone's ticklish, huh?” She teases me and then kisses my shoulder.

"You're all red baby, I really don't think you won't be able to sit down tomorrow"

I close my eyes in embarrassment.

"Your butt is so red that only adrenaline prevents you from feeling pain"

I moan.

She kisses my shoulder again a few times.

Light, kind, kisses.

"Please, forgive me, little one"

I turn my head towards her.

"For what?"

"For exaggerating"

It's like she's in a trance, in a world of its own.

Does she feel guilty?

Does she need to talk about it?

"With words, with spankings, with orgasm denial... with everything"

Did she not liked it?

"I liked Ale, really - she sighs - I deserved the punishments... And then I didn't use the safeword."

She smiles against my skin.

"D-did you liked it?" I ask hesitant.

Does she wanted more from me?

Does she not liked it because she was expecting more?

She kisses my shoulder.

"I loved it, baby, don't think something different - she bites her lip - But I shouldn't have exaggerated so much, I exaggerated and I hope you can forgive me"

She breathes deeply a few times.

"Luckily there are two days off and you don't have press work until after Christmas."

I nod.

We remain silent for a few minutes.

My eyes are closed, my breath is calm, relaxed.

Her fingers move over my body.

I pant every now and then.

She kisses my hair.

"Can I put oil on you, baby? I don't want it to get worse."

I nod.

Why is she so worried?

She gets out of bed.

I groan at the lack.

"Will you be back soon though?" I ask, frightened by her absence.

"Of course, baby"

If she thinks I'm ridiculous for being so worried about her absence, she doesn't point it out to me.

And it's like she said, a few minutes later she's back.

She sits to my right.

"Can I smear it on you?"

I agree.

She pours some of it on my ass and then smears it.

The touch is gentle.

Lovey.

She brushes against my skin until it's completely absorbed.

"I'm afraid that tomorrow you will have bruises" she whispers hesitantly.

Scared by my answer.

"I deserved it for being a brat" I try to console her while her touch is relaxing me.

She sighs and I don't know if it's because she's relieved or even more worried.

"Can you turn around baby? So I put it all over your front"

I do as she asks, and we both giggle when some of my bones crack.

She pants.

"So Full of My Signs" she whispers, her eyes that are looking all my body.

From my collarbone to my inner thighs.

I look at my body.

It's only now that I realize how many bruises she made.

My chest is full of them, just like my pelvis and legs.

"At least now everyone knows I'm yours and if you forget it, I'll just take off my shirt - I chuckle - Or even take off some concealer"

I try to lighten the mood with a joke, but it doesn't seem to have the desired effect.

Ale continues to look at my body with a lost, assorted look.

"So many bites... so many bruises" she runs a finger along my torso as if to join them by a rope, by an invisible thread, traced by her nail.

I arch my body instinctively.

The hornyness that starts to mount.

"My little girl who loves to be marked," she sighs.

She shakes her head.

"Ale - I call her and wait until she looks into my eyes - I really liked it"

She looks at me for a few moments, trying to figure out if I'm sincere or if I'm saying it to make her feel better.

To calm that guilt that I know is growing in her for the fear of having exaggerated.

She nods and then pours some liquid over both of my breasts.

She spreads it.

Because of the contact with her fingers my nipples become turgid.

I look away in embarrassment.

She smiles, grins, but says nothing.

Then, when her hand goes down, I twitch my thighs.

I moan when it gets to my pubis.

"You're so red here too, baby"

I moan as I lift my pelvis to her hand.

"So insatiable"

She passes the oil carefully around my hips and belly.

I swallow my saliva trying to control the hornyness that is heating my body, and she starts to touch my inner thighs where there are bites.

My attempt failed at the exact moment when they ended between my lips, on my clit, on my entrance.

I loudly moan.

"My baby who took three fingers," she says as she seems lost in her toughts and while she brushes her fingers over my cunt.

I nod.

I panting for the touch.

"Did it hurt you?"

I shake my head.

"You are always so tight"

"I... I liked it - I soaked the sheets - I felt full"

I don't know if that makes sense, but my mind is too clouded to think lucidly.

"Ale-"

"My baby is getting wet"

I nod.

I gasp.

Her fingers are now soaked with my arousal.

"So Insatiable"

I gasp as I squeeze the sheets.

"I... I - I try to breathe - I'm sorry Ale"

She smiles on my thigh.

"Can I fuck you baby? - Is she hesitant? "I'll be gentle, I promise"

Since when is she so insecure?

"I want to make love to you"

I nod.

I tell her it's okay, that I want it as much as she wants it.

I need to feel her loving me

She kisses me.

A Slow Kiss.

Ale licks my lip, her are shaped into a smile.

Her fingers moving on my clit.

I moan in her mouth.

"Can I touch you?" I ask insecurely.

My hands still against the mattress, too worried to do something wrong.

To break the romantic, kind moment.

The fear of making mistakes.

"Touch me, baby," she gasps, "Let me come with you"

She grabs my hand for a moment, taking it away from my pussy, and bringing it against her.

"Baby, let me come with you"

The voice is hoarse.

Low.

I move my fingers hesitantly against her pussy.

Between her lips.

On her clit.

Her fingers come back inside me.

"Can I... Can I add one more?"

I nod.

The third finger that goes into me.

I freeze for a moment because of a light pain inside of me.

It almost hurts.

She kisses my cheek.

She asks me if it's all right.

I nod and ask her to not move for a few seconds.

To make me habit to her fingers inside of me for the umpteenth time of the night.

She smiles on my skin when I beg her to move them.

She does it with a slow pace.

How to get used to it.

As if she understood that it hurts.

I start touching her again.

My fingers move inside of her hesitant, trying to figure out if she likes it.

She's so wet.

Ale moans against my ear.

She kisses me, moaning in my mouth.

"So perfect little girl," she groans, "Please, faster"

I try to speed up the pace while her hand gets more and more furious.

Touching her is heavenly.

She screams and me with her.

She cums on my hand.

I'm coming on hers.

She collapses on top of me.

Her fingers still in me.

Her orgasm in my ears.

She's so beautiful.

—————————————————————

Hi! I’m sorry I needed so much time to edit, correct and publish it

Hope that you will like this fourth and last part! At first I was trying to do something more fluff, but I loved this quite angst end

I swear that I’ll write something about the request that some of you asked at the end of the next week and if you want ask me things/fic. I think I’ll be more present at the end of the next week🫶🏻

#woso x reader #woso #woso fanfics #alexia putellas fanfics #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas

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hyunjin1e · 6 months

Text

POISON, jess mariano

summary: jess has always kept to himself. never cared to like a girl since it “wasted his time,” but when he meets her…

pairings: jess mariano x fem!reader

warnings: fluff, smoking, making out, jess’ in love !

POISON

it all started with...

"jess, go help out that table," his uncle demanded, too busy sweeping the counter to look at him.

"yes, uncle Luke." huffed the boy, murmuring something under his breath, staring at his feet as they moved towards the table.

once his eyes locked with yours, as poetic as it sounds, the world around him, stopped.

"I-what can I get you?" he asked, quickly collecting himself as he awaited for your answer.

"uhh, a danish." you hummed, your eyes skimming the boy, seeing him for the first time.

his eyes looked down, spotting a book you've been reading, "pride and prejudice, huh?"

"you read?" to find someone your age, matter of fact, a boy, that reads, wasn't something you hear everyday.

"not much." was all he said.

oh.

"aha." you hummed as a reply.

"hemingway's better," the boy continued.

"yeah?" you raised your brow.

"yeah." he stared into your eyes, daring you to say something.

"jess! get the girl her goddamn food!" the boy, jess, rolled his eyes at his uncle, giving the girl one last smirk before leaving her table.

"one danish to that girl." jess stated, throwing the notepad onto the counter and making his way upstairs, deciding to finish his shift for the day.

jess was smoking a cigarette at the lake when he heard her voice again.

"smoking can kill you." you say as you sit down next to him, your legs dangling from the bridge.

jess looked at you, tilting his face a bit before averting his eyes back to the lake.

"yeah, well.." he didn't know what to say.

"it'll be a shame, too pretty to die." you said quietly, loud enough for him to hear, though.

"are you flirting with me?" the boy smirks, looking at your face once again.

"why, is it working?"

"well I feel quite flattered." he smiles, putting a smile on your face too.

"you're pretty too." he says after a bit of silence.

"thank you, jess."

"hey! you know my name, tell me yours."

"dunno, I like being mysterious." you gave a cheeky smile.

"please?" he tried giving you his best puppy eyes, which worked.

"y/n."

once jess heard your name come out of your lips, he paused, his eyes slowly drifting around your face, finally putting a name to the face.

"well, y/n, come walk with me?" he stood up, proposing his hand for you to take.

you take his hand, lifting yourself up and letting him take anywhere.

"what's with you and y/n?" Luke bursts into their shared room, startling jess, who has been leaning on Luke's bed, one hand holding his book.

"what do you mean?" his ears seemed to prick up at your name.

"you know what I mean! running around with y/n for 2 months now!"

"look, I might be in love with her." he stated.

"in love?! jess, you're 17." his uncle yelled confusingly.

"so?! im 18 soon. y/n is amazing, I've never felt like this before."

"I never saw you like this before!" Luke sighed, calming down. "just don't fuck up." and with a final nod, he left, leaving jess with a small smile on his face.

jess pulled himself up, reaching for the phone.

"y/n, hi." he smiled, biting his lip.

"jess!" your voice came from the other side, making his smile grow wider.

"meet me at the bridge in 5." and with that he ended the call, rushing downstairs and out the diner.

once he reached the bridge, he was out of breath. he ran so he could make it before you, so you didn't overthink if he bailed on you or not.

"jessie" you smile teasingly once you meet him.

"y/n." he did the same.

"anything you wanted to ask me?" you raise your brow.

"right! y/n, I know we only know eachother for a bit more than two months, but I fell for you. your smile, our share of love for books and music, your random rants late at night. I fell for you."

he awaited for your answer, his heart beating out of his chest, he has never done that before. the first time he saw you, he was addicted. it was like poison. you were poison.

but he loves it. he loves you.

"I fell for you too." your face hurt from smiling.

that was all jess needed for him to pull you into a long kiss, grabbing onto your neck, he kissed you long and good.

both could stayed like that forever.

#jess mariano #gilmore girls #luke danes #jess mariano x reader #rory gilmore #gilmore girls x reader

611 notes · View notes

pinkanonwrites · 2 months

Text

Repaying The Favor

G1 Rumble/ Mechanic Reader - 4600+ words NSFW, Valveplug, Miscommunication, First Time, Oral Sex, AFAB Reader - They/Them Pronouns for reader

The sequel to "Oh! That's What That Does?!" is finally here! Same reader, same Rumble, same trying to figure each other out, only this time they get to slam down crazy-style about it. When will Frenzy get his turn in the spotlight? Eventually, I think! Maybe once I've finished a few other pet projects.

NSFW WRITING BELOW THE CUT!

It had been exactly fifteen days since you had last heard from Rumble.

Not that you’d been counting.

Sure, the cassettes probably had more important things to do than lounge around your workshop waiting for your attention, but that's exactly why it was so odd. They always had better things to do, things that they were pointedly avoiding doing by barging in on your work and taking up what little free space the shop had remaining. But since your little tryst with Rumble, you hadn't seen armor nor optic of any of the usual cassette bot suspects.

Maybe you'd broken some sort of ancient, space robot taboo that you'd never heard of. Or maybe Rumble was just embarrassed that he jizzed all over your jumpsuit. Either way, it wasn't like you had any way of getting ahold of them besides them dropping in, so there wasn't much to be done about the situation but wait.

You were leaving the corner store when you heard it, the cacophonous boom of a jet flying far too close to the tips of the skyscrapers overhead. The sound sent you reeling, bags crumpling to the sidewalk as you hurried to cover your ears. Down the street you could make out the screech of metal smacking against metal, see the flailing limbs of two massive robots staggering clumsily through the street as they traded blows with each other. Neither of them were one you recognized, the red Autobot with the oversized chest window wrestling one of the identical jet Decepticons into a clumsy headlock. As they stumbled about one of them trampled on a car parked along the curb, and you winced as the metal shrieked and crumpled under his massive foot.

Yeah, time to get out of here. You gathered up your bags and ducked into the alley between the buildings, slipping past trash bags and old graffiti, trying not to tread in any unidentifiable puddles. Off in the distance you could hear an emergency siren start to wail, hopefully signaling that whatever the space robots were quarreling over this time would be settled sooner rather than later. All you really wanted was to get back home without any further interruptions.

But as you emerged from the back alley entrance and found yourself hoisted into the air by two massive metal hands around your waist, you'd decided to kiss that chance goodbye. Your bags clattered to the ground once more, bread and fruit and canned goods spilling out around a familiar pair of pedes. When you glanced up to his faceplate, the glow of his visor was nearly enough to blind you.

“Rumble?!”

His visor dimmed enough that you could see his intake, which had just before been pulled into a maniacal grin, drop open in visible shock. Then, as quick as it came, it was gone, replaced instead with a tight, furrowed frown.

“What’re you doin’ out here?” He barked.

“Buying food. Or trying to, at least.” You glanced over his shoulder just in time to see Ravage pounce on that yellow Autobot with the horns that was always showing up in the news. “You guys having a little play date or something?”

He scoffed out a laugh, quickly stifling it with a clearing of his vents. “Whatsit matter to ya? Didn't think you cared dat much about lil’ old me.”

“Rumble, what…?” Was he seriously pouting? Or maybe trying to guilt trip you? For what, making him cum? “What are you even talking about? I haven't seen you in like, two weeks.”

“Aww, real funny! You know what I mean! I let you poke around in my chassis and run up my charge, an’ after that it's radio silence? Whaddya humans call it… ghosting? Make a mech feel like second-rate shareware, why don't ya?”

You blinked at him once, twice, mind spinning as you tried to process his words.

“Are you- are you mad I didn't call you?”

His optic lights beamed as he bristled, armor flaring with a hiss before clamping tight back to his frame. “I told you to comm me!”

“Rumble, I don't have your number! I couldn't call you even if I wanted to!”

His grip went slightly slack as he stared at you, leaving you dangling from your armpits like a cat.

“I… I hailed you my frequency. In da EM field.”

“Humans don't have… whatever that is. Do you have a phone number?”

He stared at you again, much longer this time as the discordant crashing of giant metal men continued in the background. Then, with a sudden jolt, you were slipping free of his fingers as he dropped you unceremoniously to the pavement. It wasn't a far fall, just enough to make your feet tingle upon landing. When you looked up you saw he had both servos covering his faceplate, a string of muffled curses eking out between the digits.

Your mind was reeling. He actually wanted you to call him? To… repay the favor? Heat pooled in the pit if your stomach as your mind conjured up wicked memories of his stifled gasps and whimpers, how he’d squirmed beneath you as you prodded around his spark chamber. How behind all the billowing and smashing and Brooklyn-accented bravado, when you got down to the core of him, he was actually kind of… cute.

“You- just- I don’t- Get outta here! Go on, scram! Before you get stomped on or somethin’!” His face plate was flushed and glowing as he shooed at you. You would go, that was certain, you really didn't want to get stepped on after all. But first you were going to say something potentially risky, deeply embarrassing, and undoubtedly very, very stupid.

“Come over.”

His optics shuttered, flickering for a moment as he stared down at you, frozen.

“What?”

“Not right now. Tonight. When you guys are done getting wailed on? Come over.”

He opened his intake, then closed it. When he opened it a second time you caught a wisp of steam slipping through the gap in his dentae. He swallowed, hard. He never stopped staring at you.

“...Y-Yeah. Yeah. Awright. I'll be there.”

“Cool. Watch out for the yellow guy.”

“Huh-HGGRRK!?!” You stumbled back a few steps just in time for the Autobot to chuck Ravage directly into Rumble’s helm, sending him crashing into the brick wall beside you.

“Sorry! Are you alright?” The little Autobot called. “You should probably get out of here!”

He didn't have to tell you twice.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The news was just wrapping up their coverage on the ‘latest Decepticon assault’ when you heard a rap on your warehouse’s roll-up door. There wasn't much to see peering out the window, the street only haphazardly illuminated by old street lights. Not that you really needed to look, there was only one guest you were expecting at this time of night anyway.

You'd stopped at home first, mainly to take a shower and put on something that wasn’t a pair of mechanic’s overalls. But for some reason the nerves hadn't hit you until right now. You clamped down on the prickle of… anxiety? Excitement? Somewhere between the two? As you pulled the strap at the base of the roll-up, the groan of shifting metal slowly gave way to reveal…

“Are you wearing a bowtie?”

“Not bad, eh? Don't say I never cleaned up or nothin’. Here.” As Rumble stepped from the dark street into the light of the warehouse he pulled something from his subspace: a large, green bottle that he offered to you pinched between two fingers. A bottle of wine. Judging by the label, an expensive bottle of wine.

“Where did you get this?” You turned the bottle over twice in your grip, scanning the details on the back. French Merlot, aged… fifteen years? Holy shit.

“Dat fancy Italian place on the corner of Fourth and Vine! What, ya don't like it?”

“I didn't say that!” Rumble positively beamed as you clutched the bottle. “I just didn't expect it, is all. Are you… wining and dining me right now?”

“Is dat a good thing or a bad thing? Your human movies said you’re ‘sposed to bring a little somethin’ somethin’ before, y’know,” There was a sly, lopsided charm to his grin as he pulled the roll-up back down with his pede, clanking shut behind him, “Before you let me run your charge for a change.”

“You know, you don't have to try so hard to im…press… me.” You trailed off, staring down at the bottle in your hands, then back up to him, then back at the bottle, then him again. When you made eye contact with him the slyness seemed to falter a bit, leaving behind something softer in his smile. Something a little more vulnerable.

How did it take this long for it to click for you? He was wearing a bowtie, for Christ’s sake.

“Oh my God you're trying to impress me.”

“Eh?” A fidgeting servo tugged at his bowtie- which appeared to be made of… an old seatbelt? “Nah, you're crazy! Dis is jus’ what humans are ‘sposed to do!”

“Oh my God you are!”

“H-Hey, what'd I say about you and gettin’ big ideas?” He tried to deter you, but your mind was already racing a mile a minute.

“Do you actually like me? Like, want to date me? Do alien robots even date, cause I didn't know th- MMPH!”

With a massive metal palm pressed to your chest, Rumble pushed you back into your adjustable work table, still sitting at a mostly upright angle from the last time you'd repaired him. The table against your back was cold, a sharp contrast to the radiating heat from his servo as he pinned you in place with his hand. His face was inches from yours as he leaned over you, visor now gleaming with frustration and embarrassment.

“You can't get enough of dis, huh? Like pushin’ my buttons so much?” His servo pinned you down just a touch harder, forcing the air from your lungs in a breathy wheeze. “‘Oh, it's so fun to get Rumble all flustered! Lemme mess wit’ his head a lil more!’ Well maybe it’s Ol’ Rumble’s turn to do da messin’ around, huh? See how you like it when someone’s toyin’ with your sensitive bits.”

He bared his dentae as he spoke, another hiss of steam curling around your cheeks. It made your hair stand on end. A hot thrill ran through you, and you fought the urge to let your knees knock together, confident that Rumble would be able to keep you in place with brute strength alone. You could feel his thumb smoothing back and forth across your shirt, and as he glanced down at his servo the glare of his visor lessened slightly.

“...Why’s your fuel pump goin’ all crazy? You scared or somethin’?”

You swallowed a mouthful of saliva, willing your foggy mind to function. “Not… Not scared, exactly.”

There were a few seconds of tense silence, before the wickedest, prideful grin crept back up across his faceplate.

“Oh? Is dat so?” His other servo rose to grip the top edge of the table, fingers molding to fit the dent he’d left there previously as he loomed over you. “Well maybe we oughta do somethin’ about tha- SCRAP!”

His flirtations were cut short by the sharp SNAP of the stabilizing lock on your workbench failing under Rumble’s weight and flipping 180 degrees over. The world pitched and spun as you tumbled backwards, yelping as the table flipped and deposited you upside-down on the floor, legs sticking akimbo in the air. From between your dangling feet you could see Rumble peering over you with his sly expression wiped off his visor by one of concern.

“Slag! I didn't crush your little pedes when you flipped, did I? Cause I don't no nothin’ about fixin’ up injured squishies.”

Miraculously, you had managed to make it through that ass-over-elbow fall without hitting your head on anything, or Rumble accidentally pinning your legs in place between his bulk and the table frame. “I’m alright! Just didn't expect it, I’m okay.”

“Dat’s good. Here lemme jus’-” You felt a servo close around each of your ankles. With an effortless tug Rumble dragged you back up, tabletop tipping with you as it clunked back into its standard, flat position. Of course, this now left you with your ass and legs dangling off the edge of the workbench, Rumble standing between them with a servo resting on each knee. “Better?”

You sucked in a breath, trying desperately not to look overeager. “Better.”

“Ah, slaggit all…” But instead of putting his servos back on you (where you most certainly wanted them) Rumble began to scratch at the back of his neck, failing to meet your gaze. “Guess I ain't really cut out for all this… whaddaya call it? ‘Winin’ and dinin’?’ Can't even get my servos on ya without fraggin’ it up.”

“Hey, I’m definitely not complaining.” You attempted a jokey tone, but it didn't seem to do much to dampen Rumble’s current self-deprecation. You let the playful edge fall away as you dropped into something a bit softer. “I mean it though. You don't have to try to impress me. I mean it's appreciated! But, y’know, I wouldn't have agreed to this if I wasn't already happy with the bot I was getting into it with.”

“Heh. Even if I end up crushin’ you a bit?”

“That's a risk I'm willing to take.”

He barked out another laugh, accompanied by a coil of thin steam hissing through his gap-dentae. “Well I guess I better make it worth da risk, shouldn't I?”

He snuck a servo under each of your knees, pushing them apart as he rocked his modesty panel against your clothed core. You stifled a gasp, the ridge of sturdy metal almost hot against you, even through layers of cotton and denim. The slow roll of his hips made your own stutter up off of the table, desperate for further friction.

“Cute. You like grindin’ on my panel? Should I make you bust jus’ like this?”

Despite the warm curl of arousal pooling in your stomach from the feeling, you knew this wouldn't be enough to get you off. Rumble seemed to know it too, letting out a low, pleased chuckle at your desperate expression.

“Jus’ yankin’ yer crankcase, sweetspark. I got somethin’ a lot more fun in mind for tonight anyway. Dat is, if you'll start gettin’ dese off.” He hooked a digit through your belt loop and gave them an experimental tug.

“Mmh, what, you don’t want to take them off yourself?”

“Oh, I’ll gladly take ‘em off ya. Just figured you’d take care of dis part here…” His thick digits slid inward, ghosting over the button of your jeans. ��So I don't gotta rip ‘em off ya instead.”

You weighed your options. On one hand, the image of Rumble tearing denim apart with his bare servos as if it was no more than wet tissue paper was far more appealing to you than you would have originally expected. On the other hand… well, they were new jeans.

“I got it.” You mumbled, quietly filing the image away in your brain for later use as you undid your button and zipper. “Careful with th- Oh!”

With a sharp yank, Rumble tugged your jeans and underwear off your legs and let them crumple onto the floor. Shoving himself into the space between your knees, you could only barely make out the top of his helm over the slope of your stomach as he knelt before you, spreading your folds with two digits and… staring.

You waited for a response, a quip, the slow drag of metal over your slick hole, but were instead greeted with silence. Something prickled in the pit of your stomach as you fought the urge to squirm. In the back of your mind you vaguely remembered that you hadn't really gotten to see what Rumble was packing, and only now were you grappling with the truth that you were trying to have sex with a truly alien being. Would your bodies even be compatible? Was he weirded out right now? You tried to pull your knees together, only to be stopped by a rough servo shoving them back open.

“...It's rude to stare.” You muttered.

“EY! I ain't starin’! I'm, uh, admirin’. Dat’s it.” There was a similar tightness to Rumble’s voice. You shuddered as a thumb stroked the crease of your thigh. “Soft… An’ it's supposed to be dat pink?”

“Y-Yeah… that's, mmh, normal.” You shuddered at a wave of steam curling over your sensitive heat as he spread you again, visor locked on your twitching entrance.

“Primus. And you're really gonna let me spike ya in this tiny little hole?” You could feel his thumb just brushing the rim and stifled a groan at the sudden, aching emptiness, the demand to be filled. “I don't wanna tear you in half or nothin’.”

“It’ll fit.” You whined, core tensing around nothing. “We’re, unh, we’re pretty flexible. C’mon, Rumble…” You forced your knees further apart, pushing your hips up into each of Rumble's far-too-light touches. His motor snarled in response, a massive hand gripping the inside of each of your thighs.

“Slag. You're really achin’ for it, aren’tcha?” His voice was lower than you'd ever heard it before, deep and resonant and primal. “But I ain't gonna give it to ya dat easy, doll. Gotta make sure you can take it first.”

He raised his helm for just a moment, just enough for you to get a peek of his beaming visor and his wicked, gap-toothed grin between your legs. Then he descended, lathing his thick, hot glossa up the length of your cunt. You choked on a gasp, his servos the only thing keeping your hips from rabbiting up off the table. It was hot, his glossa thick and sturdy and drooling with oral lubricant, a thin layer of silicon over sturdier metal mesh dragging up through your folds.

“Easy, sweetspark…” You weren't the only one enjoying themselves. Rumble's low, rattling groan pulsed through your cunt. You swore you could just barely make out him groaning your name but it was lost, muffled as he pressed his faceplate further between your legs and his servos shivered where they gripped your thighs. He was messy and all too eager, arousal and oral lubricant spilling down his chin as his glossa stroked you; slow, deliberate drags up your folds until you were left dripping. At the apex he found your clit and took it between his dermas, a teasing hum rattling throughout his engine that had you gasping, thighs clenching around his thick helm. Your legs jerked as warmth bloomed outward from your core, hips writhing against the onslaught of pleasure. Dragging across his back your heel caught in a rounded divot, pulling a raggedy vent through Rumble’s dentae as his frame twitched.

“”Mmpfh!~ E-Ey, watch da spindle. It’s sensitive in dere…” He groaned, face still pressed into your cunt, servos only dragging your ass further off the table in his efforts to get somehow even closer to you. But instead you dug your heel in harder, pressing into the ridged divot and twisting your leg. The internal ring jerked with a sudden CLICK CLICK CLICK, each pop of noise making Rumble’s frame spasm like he'd just been electrocuted. “FRAG! Primus, that’s- ghh!~”

“Feel good?” You teased, breathless. His optics beamed back up at you, an oscillating, glistening red as you caught another peek of his gap-toothed grin from between your legs.

“So dat’s how you wanna play dis? Don't say I didn't warn ya, doll.”

You barely had a chance to respond before the noise was punched out of your lungs in a sharp whine as Rumble shoved a thick, metal digit into your drooling cunt. Achingly hard, unrelenting, he flexed it against your rippling walls as his dermas nestled themselves snugly around your clit. The hum reverberating through his frame coursed through your body like a wave, hands scrabbling desperately at his helm as the twinge of pain at the sudden intrusion melted into thick, syrupy pleasure.

“A-ah, fuck! Rumble, Rumble that's good, that's fucking good.~” Metal clanged as you lolled your head back against the table top, no longer able to keep it upright. Each drag of his digit, textured and ridged and unrelenting, sparked euphoria behind your eyelids. You felt every muscle in your body starting to prickle with pleasure, radiating outwards from your cunt and pooling in your head, your stomach, the tips of your toes…

You all but whined when he drew his digit away, dermas releasing your swollen clit with a slick pop. “C’mon! Rumble!”

“You want it dat bad, huh?” A shadow cast over your rumpled form as Rumble rose to his full height. From between your legs you could catch a glimpse of silver and blue panels fluttering and folding away, one of Rumble’s servos hiking the underside of your knee and the other stroking the gap between his thigh and pelvic armor as his spike rose to full attention. Christ, he was huge, the thick metal rod draped across your lower stomach as he rocked experimentally against you. Each thrust had the tip drooling a translucent, pinkish fluid you remembered scrubbing from the back of your jumpsuit, hot and vaguely smelling of well-oiled machinery and pooling across your bare stomach.

Rumble, for his part, seemed to be as entranced as you felt, visor vibrant and flickering as he stared down at the place his frame rubbed against your soft, supple body. A harsh ex-vent punctuated each roll of his hips, steam coiling around the corners of his slack, open intake as he pulled back, letting the tip of his spike slide wetly through your folds.

“Dat’s it, doll… You're gonna get exactly what you want. Gonna get you bouncin’ on dis spike, jus’ beggin’ for it…” His tone was low, entranced, just barely tinged with desperation. He dragged his tip through your folds again, and again, covering your cunt with his thick transfluid, making your breath hitch whenever he slid over your clit just right. You angled your hips up, guiding it right over your entrance, toes curling at the promise of pressure.

But before you could utter his name again, or any other placation or demand, you felt the heavy press, the slow, aching slide as he entered you. It teetered just on the edge of pain, muscles twinging at your inner thighs as you forced your legs wider to accommodate his bulky armor. And his spike offered just as little give, covered with a thin layer of silicon like his glossa but still distinctly sturdy, inflexible metal. Your walls rippled helplessly around the intrusion, stretched to a delicious degree as he bullied his way inside you.

About halfway to being fully sheathed in your heat he paused, visor hazy and unfocused, intake still hanging open as he vented steam. A servo was resting on each of your hips, but while one stayed in place the other slid up, up, bunching your shirt around his digits and shoving it up above your chest. There his servo paused on your side, his massive thumb stroking back and forth over your nipple, quickly pebbling under the cool metal.

“Primus.” He breathed, distinctly softer than you ever remember hearing him before (and oh, if that didn't do just as much for your arousal as everything else). Finally, his hips began to move again, that intoxicating ache only beginning to border on near-unbearable when you could feel your ass and the backs of your thighs smushed against his pelvic armor. For another moment he paused, one servo cradling your hip and the other your chest.

Then he drew back, and thrust home.

The first thrust forced the air out of you in a desperate, sharp wheeze. This didn’t slow him, not in the slightest, digits sinking into the plush meat of your hip as he jackhammered into you. Each thrust had the entire table rattling, the sharp clang of metal against metal where his thighs hit the dented table’s edge. His quiet reverence had given way to an onslaught of erotic babble, visor locked on your face as it twisted and furrowed in pleasure.

“Takin’ it so fraggin well… You’re just made for takin’ my spike, aren’tcha?” He scooped his servo under your hip and lifted you further up, all but folding you in half as he loomed over you. His dermas brushed the curve of your jaw, just below your ear, and you could feel the heat of his ex-vent making your skin tingle. “You’ve jus’ been waitin’ for me to frag you stupid, plug up that achin’ valve til you can’t think of nothin’ else.”

“Mmmh…~ It’s so big.” You slurred, thighs slick with sweat and slipping on his plating as you struggled to lock your ankles in the small of his back. His frame shivered like an electric current ran through it, clutching you somehow even closer to his massive chassis.

“Nghh…~ Yeah? You love dis fat spike, don’tcha? Say it.”

“I love it!~”

“You want me to spill my load in this tight little valve, don’tcha?”

“Please!”

“Aghh, slag! Y-You’re gonna get it, sweetspark. You’re gonna take it all, j-just-mmfh!~” His vents were ragged and desperate, thrusts stuttering as he neared his release. You squealed as his thumb found your clit, rubbing the swollen bud in rough, tight circles. Euphoria was buzzing throughout your body, the ache of your lower back buried beneath the onslaught of pleasure and heat coiling in the pit of your stomach and blooming out through your limbs, legs shaking, hands trembling.

Sparks exploded behind your eyelids as your orgasm washed over you, hips jerking weakly against Rumble’s. There was no give to his spike at all, thick and steady and unyielding as your pussy squeezed and pulsed around it. You felt a flood of something molten spill into your core, filling you nearly to the point of aching as it spilled out around the tight ring of your hole around his base. Rumble’s frame stuttered, jittering, a harsh crackle of static and mechanical chatter pouring from his drooling intake where it was still buried in the crook of your neck. Finally, finally, his frame grew still. The only noise between the two of you were your shared, harsh breaths and the low churn of the occasional car driving past outside.

“Mmmmnnghh…” Rumble groaned, shifting his hips to pull his shrinking spike from your core as he rose unsteadily back to an upright position. You could feel transfluid dribbling from your hole as he tucked himself back away- thick, translucent globs spilling down the insides of your thighs and hitting the floor with a splatter. His engine gave a little, stuttering snarl despite himself as he dragged his digit tips through the shimmering line along one of your inner thighs. “I oughta take a picture of dis…”

“Don’t you dare.” You kicked weakly at his servo, legs now tingling with static as blood rushed back to them. He barked out a sharp laugh, effortlessly batting your foot aside. His servo rested atop your lower stomach and gave a teasing press, and you shivered as more globs of thick transfluid drooled from your cunt. “Jerk.”

“Eyy, you love it!”

“Unfortunately.” There was no real bite to your tone, you could tell by the way Rumble grinned. “Think you can give me a hand getting over to the bathroom before my knees give out?”

“Depends. Does dat count as you owin’ me a favor?”

#transformers #transformers x reader #x reader #rumble #rumble x reader #tf rumble #g1 rumble #valveplug #long post #my writing #nsft

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footballffbarbiex · 3 months

Text

Repeat After Me.

Okay I'm breaking the norm a little bit here, but I've wanted to do something nice for my doll @mvybanks for a while and tonight feels like a good time to do it.

If this is awful, lets just pretend I never posted it while I fake my own death, flee the country and we'll all just move on yeah?

There's probably mistakes as it's not been BETA'd but I'll die on my typo hill and that's that.

“Stop it,” your boyfriend’s voice pulls you from your thoughts but it’s the tone of it which makes you instinctively turn your head to look at him. It’s soft yet commanding.

He’s sat propped up by a small pile of plush cushions behind him on the couch. One knee is drawn up to enable him to rest his book against his thigh while his arm is extended and rests over the knee. His beanie is pulled down, allowing a few unruly curls to flick out from beneath it. His tongue flicks a toothpick from side to side between his lips.

He’s not even looking at you and for a moment or two, you’re both sitting in silence with you beginning to wonder if you had imagined him speaking. Furrowing your brow, you begin to bring your attention back to your phone but not before you catch his face turning ever so slightly to look your way.

“I mean it.” He says.

“I’m not doing anything.”

“You’re getting in your head again. Stop it.”

The temptation to huff and deny it is overwhelming but the last time you’d done this, he’d reprimanded you for not using your words to express how you were feeling and insisted on spending as long as it took between the sheets until you were capable of both saying how you felt and losing every thought that could form. In a way, some part of you wished that he’d take you back to bed and made it so that you didn’t have to think. Didn’t have to do anything other than be made to feel incredible and reciprocate it.

“Do I need to come over there?” He asks, folding the corner of the page and closes it, ignoring the way you wince at the action. You’d left enough notes scribbled over pages of books while taking notes for your course to become desensitised by this, but to see it creased? That was something else.

“Why? So that you can give me an up close and personal talk about how stressing over my answers now won’t change the result and I’m moping around for nothing?”

JJ discards the book and climbs from the couch, not stopping his movements until he’s not only in front of you but pushing your knees apart and covering your body with his own. His nose rubs against yours lightly, lips brushing over the curve of your own. “Are you going to stop?”

“No.” You say stubbornly.

“No?” He repeats, eyebrow arching as he adjusts his weight to get into a better position.

“No.”

“Oh baby, what am I going to do with you?” he asks, more to himself than needing a reply from you.

You open your mouth to give him one regardless but before you can do so, his lips are back on yours. He starts off soft, light kisses pressed to your lips, slowly building you up until your mouth parts and his tongue meets yours. Even then, he takes his time being ever so careful not to rush it.

One hand clutches at his clothing, while the other one snakes up between his shoulder blades until your fingertips reach his beanie. It’s tugged from his head, only so that you can fill your hand with the softness of his hair. When JJ nibbles at your bottom lip, you give his hair a quick tug and feel the way he bucks his hips to yours.

“Tell me you’ll stop stressing.” he mutters, barely allowing his lips to leave yours to form the words.

“I’ll try.” You reply hurriedly.

“No, I want you to say it.” He instructs, breaking the kiss to look down at you. There’s nothing he likes more than seeing you all flustered, with enlarged pupils and slightly swollen lips from kissing.

“Don’t play JJ. I thought you wanted to help.” Your tone is almost whiny. It should make you feel ashamed but you’re not.

“I’m trying to. So,” He begins, hips grinding against you in a circular motion while his fingers stroke over your heated cheeks. His thumb traces over where his lips were only moments ago before dipping beneath your jaw and over as much of your throat as he can reach. “Repeat after me, I’ll stop stressing.”

“I’ll stop stressing.” you say obediently, swallowing hard when he smirks down at you.

“I’ll stop thinking about what I could have done better.”

When you groan with frustration at what he’s asking you to do. “Do I ha-”

“Yes. Unless you want me to stop?” He teases, dipping his head to your neck and you feel his mouth connect with your skin. Soft lips dragging over your pulse point, peppering the area with kisses, trailing them down to your shoulder where he playfully nips at the skin - knowing how shy you get about the idea of having a hickey in such a visible place.

“I’ll stop thinking about what I could have done better.” You repeat and feel the way his teeth bare against you as he grins.

“That’s my girl.”

#jj maybank x reader #jj maybank outer banks #jj maybank fanfiction #jj maybank fluff #jj maybank smut #jj maybank x you #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank blurb

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moumouton4 · 5 months

Note

can you make Itachi come back from work and find his s/o in lingerie? nsfw pls

Finding You Wearing Lingerie || Itachi Uchiha x fem!reader

A/n : Okay so I hope I've done as good as you thought I would do it ! Hope y'all will enjoy it 🥧🍦

Warnings : no gender mentionned for reader ( unless a mention of breasts ), lingerie, mention of bulge, slight grinding, implied sex, 18+ READERS ONLY and wrap it before you tap it

Masterlist ⚜

I don’t give permission to repost my work, if you want to share it just reblogue it

Word count : 715

He is just back from some errands. He almost lets everything fall onto the ground

He is already choking on his spit as his face reaches a redded state to the one of his Sharingan

He does his best to tame his surprised self if you’ve not already seen how vulnerable you’ve just made him

But then he suddenly closes his eyes - in fact this is the first thing he does but everything in the above only happens in like 1 or 2 sec - even if he’s seen those gorgeous curves so much times before, and without the garments

His eyes are going to flicker back to your body and then back to the closer wall,fr until he loses the fight against his brain who’s telling him that what he is doing is inappropriate and that he should be able to control his actions better

But then he relents and soo enough his eyes are trailing across your skin. And gosh you’re glowing. The fabric hugs your curves so divinely, your breasts ( if you do have lmao ) are gently pushed up giving your an assertive stance that he found incredibly arousing

And your butt, it looked so squishable from his point of view. His hand physically thingled at the idea of touching you and feel your soft skin on the rough pads on his fingers

He starts feeling hot, like really really hot and he starts to think that maybe a shower can wait and that he could take you now. Where it doesn’t matter. He just needs to have you right under him right now

And that's how before he knows it he is going to pop the boner, he feels himself throbbing in his attire. And soon enough he is turning the other way so that you don’t see how horny you’ve just made him

Not that he doesn’t want you to see him vulnerable, you’ve already spend so much time together, it’s just that he feels like he is disrespecting you and seeing you as just a sex relief, which isn’t the case, like at all

Sensing that he was slightly embarrassed you started to engage in a conversation “How do I look ?”

He cleared his throat that had grown incredibly tight “I- erm you look great !” he said cheerly but it was evident in his tone that he was trying to control his urges

“Wouldn’t feel cozier in clothes though… N-no that I mind the view, it’s very nice… ugh what am I saying… I mean it is nice but you know…”

Poor boy was left there rambling

You walked further towards him and cupped his cheek. Your fingers followed tenderly the path of his jaw line. You heard his breath hitch and he tentatively closed his eyes as they got a new and tempting view of your cleavage “Why is it so difficult ?” he thought as he felt his hands instinctively wrap around your waist and slightly pushed you closer

He took a sharp intake of breath when you pressed yourself against his bulge. He groaned lowly and his hands squeezed your sides. His jaw was clenched as he looked straight ahead of him

He knew that if he looked back at you, and precisely in your eyes he would be too weak not to take you right there

That’s maybe why your other hand came to rest on his other cheek before pulling his face down so you could be able to gaze in his onyx eyes and see yours, and gosh his pupils were so dilated. Maybe if you were to look even closer you would be able to see his Sharingan flickering in his eyes as he tried even harder to tame his desires

Though you wanted him to indulge in them, that’s why you did all that after all. So you whispered “Maybe it’s time we took this somewhere else”

“Anywhere you want” his words were rushed and his tone almost desperate

It was clear when he closed the door of your shared room with a swift movement of his foot that you both weren’t getting of this walls for the next hours to come

Seriously this guys owns the all the stamina of the village sometimes he just knows how to hide it better

#naruto #naruto imagine #naruto smut #naruto shippuden #naruto shippuden imagine #naruto shippuden smut #itachi uchiha #itachi uchiha imagine #itachi uchiha x reader #itachi uchiha smut #itachi #itachi imagine #itachi x reader #itachi smut #smut #request #miri-writes

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luimagines · 5 months

Note

Super excited you opened requests! If possible could you do one where the chain (individual or together dealers choice) ends up in the readers time after the adventure ends and thinking they wouldn't see each other again? (Maybe a sprinkle of confessions that they didn't get the chance to say before)

Secret conclusion to Leaving before he confesses? o.o Yes, no? Maybe so? Doesn't have to be. Take it as you will. :D

Masterlist

Part one will include Time, Twilight and Warriors!

Content under the cut!

Time

Time was about to lose his mind. Wasn't he suppose to be done with this whole adventuring thing? He's getting too old for this.

Why doesn't he know where he is? Why is he so far from home? He doesn't even remember walking through a portal this time. All he knows is that he was walking home after his shift on Lon Lon Ranch, then the world melted and he was in the middle of a forest.

This is getting obnoxious. He doesn't even have any of his weaponry nor does he have his armor. If he were to be attacked at this very moment, he would have to get creative. It's unfortunate that he's not as young as he used to be.

There's a trail he can follow at least. Maybe it can lead him to civilization and he can get some answers and start to figure out what he's supposed to do now.

Thankfully, he finds a town. It's small and quaint but it would suffice. Time isn't particularly picky about his options right now.

He walks into the town, glad that he's arrived before sunset when he spot a familiar face walking into a nearby house. He calls out your name in the hope that he's not fully lost his mind.

He sees you freeze before shaking your head and turning the doorknob to your house.

Time takes off running, calling your name again. This time you turn around and you drop the items in your hands. You scream but also star running toward him.

He can't help it. When you collide, he lifts you into the air and spins. It gets the stares of many people around and he can already hear the whispers but he finds that he couldn't care less.

He can smell your hair and whatever perfume you have on. It's nice.

You start crying.

Concerned, Time leads you back to the house you were about to enter, guiding you inside and picking up the items you've dropped in the process.

You don't seem to want to let him go. He feels the same, but he doesn't need to make a public spectacle of you. Although it takes a hot second, you both enter the house. You latch onto him again and this time he holds you firmly and tightly against his chest.

"I thought I would never see you again." You say with a broken voice.

"You and me both." Time admit with a sigh. He kiss the tears from your eyes and runs his hands over your face and hair and shoulders- trying to memorize and refamiliarize himself with your shape, your feel- your presence. "I've missed you."

You nod and nearly break down into sobs again.

He shush you gently and holds you close. He can't find it in himself to speak any more- less he start crying as well.

"I loved you." You blurt. "I still love you. I haven't stopped. I don't care if you don't feel the same- but I can't keep this inside me. I need to you know-"

Time kisses you.

He's been meaning to say the same but he finds this gets the message across quicker.

Twilight

Twilight felt like he had taken this one a little better than he did the previous one. Once again someone he had felt like he loved left without much of a goodbye. Things were left unsaid, things he wanted the other party to know- with the idea that there was no way for them to see each other again.

It hurt, but it wasn't like he hadn't gone through this before.

That being said, he kept to himself nowadays. With the children growing older, they were being put to use as extra hands around the village. They were starting their apprenticeships and were learning the tricks and trades of the generation before them. Ergo, they didn't need someone like him to watch after them as often anymore.

Which wasn't so bad. It was quieter around his place, sure. But it gave him time to think. Time to heal. time he didn't know he needed.

He still misses you though.

The idea of what could have been still sits in his mind. He sighs and cleans his house for the first time in weeks. You always seems to be cleaning something when you traveled together. Whether it be their clothes, their weapons, their equipment- it just became your job whether they acknowledged it or not.

He can already hear you yelling at him in the back of his mind for letting his home fall to the state it has.

He personally doesn't care all that much- but a clean house is still nice to have.

Suddenly the reflection in his mirror changes. He's no longer looking at himself- but at the inside of another house entirely. He stares at it for a good moment before putting his hand to the glass.

It goes through. It's as if there wasn't any glass to begin with.

Ever curious, he climbs onto the table and through the mirror. He looks through the other, still not wanting to step all the way through just in case.

"Weird." He mutters to himself. "Well this has never happened before."

Someone screams.

Twilight jumps and hits his head on the railing before ducking back into his house for safety.

"Wait, wait, wait!" You scream before he can retreat and haul him through the mirror completely. "Is it really-? Tell me it's truly you! Link! It's me! How did you get here?"

Twilight rubs his head and looks in you in quiet awe. "...The mirror shifted..."

You sniffle, almost instantly bursting into tears and hug him around the neck. "Oh my goodness! I thought I would have lost you forever!"

Twilight hugs you slowly. His limbs don't seem to keep in pace with his mind. Can it be-? It is really-?

Twilight says your name slowly and lifts your head up to look him in the eye. You smile, tearful but beaming. You put your hand over his and lean into his touch. "I have no idea how you got your mirror to connect to my house, but I'm not complaining."

"It wasn't in my plans." Twilight feels like laughing. It is! It is you!

He picks you up and spins you around. "It's you!"

"It's me." You laugh.

Twilight puts you down gently and cups your cheeks. "I think I'm in love with you."

You blush fiercely but snort. "I've been in love with you, Link. I'm glad you caught up finally."

Warrior

Warrior didn't to let himself get too lost in his heart ache. If you didn't know how uselessly in love her was with you, then you didn't know. You weren't worse off because of it. If anything, you were blissfully unaware of his emotional turmoil and therefore, living happily without a single thought of him in your head.

Maybe this was a blessing in disguise. Although more so for you than for him.

And maybe he could take solace in that. You were living your life as you did before, so why can't he? It's not like anything will come from it now.

He sighs and puts the outgoing documents into the bin. He has a head ache now too. Not only can he not stop thinking about you, but the issues with the castle staff and the monster beyond their borders have been keeping his candle burning at both ends.

He needs a break.

Warrior stands up and walks out of his office, rubbing his temple as he goes.

He misses you. It's the only thing he can think about. Even if it's selfish at this point. He wishes he could have told you how he felt. Granted, he wasn't sure if that's knowledge that he should drop on you, and realistically he's glad that he didn't but the issue remains. He would feel better if you knew.

You might feel worse though.

What a pickle.

He walks through the castle with no destination in mind until he trips and falls down the stairs. He's already cursing himself in his head- hoping that there's no one around to witness this.

He hits the bottom and almost considers laying there to further the embarrassment.

He hears something shatter and he looks up in shock.

The first things he notices is that he's no longer in the castle. If anything, he looks like he's in a small house. He's still at the bottom of the stairs though. He pushes himself up, half in a daze and half aware that something having to do with more magical shenanigans has just happened.

"...Link?"

His blood goes cold. Oh how he's longed to hear that voice again- to hear you say his name. But this could be a trap.

He turns towards the sound cautiously. You're standing there, shattered plate by your feet with your hands over your mouth.

Warrior can feel himself tense up. You're stunning. Even now- "You look just as beautiful as the day you left."

You scramble over to him and hoist him onto his feet, breaking down into sobs before kissing him.

His eyes go wide as his hand land on your hips.

Well, this is certainly unexpected. But he's not complaining.

It takes him a moment to regain the use of his brain but he slowly kisses you back.

You pull away before he can get into it, wiping your face and running your hands over his upper body, taking him in. "...I missed you."

Warrior has to laugh. "Clearly... But it's ok." Warrior takes a chance kissing you once more. "I missed you too."

You bite your lip and blush a beautiful shade of red. You cough and play with the lapels of his uniform. You both stand there in silence, taking each other in.

Suddenly, as if the bubble pops, you both look each other in the eye a quiet breath passes between you both as you both speak in unison.

"I love you."

Part 2

#linked universe #linkeduniverse #lu x reader #linked universe x reader #the second and third requests were after i opened them up back in may #but this was already written #figured I'd just tag them on :D

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thebibliosphere · 2 years

Text

I receive many wonderful and kind comments about Phangs in my inbox daily, but the ones that stick with me the most are always from fellow neurodivergent people, usually elated or crying because Phangs is the first book they've been able to read since their teens, sometimes even decades.

"I thought I'd lost the ability to read; I thought there was something wrong with me; I thought I was broken," over and over and over again.

I've talked about it before, but just in case you need to hear it: it's not just you; it's the publishing industry.

If you follow my Twitter, you may have seen the thread where I talked about what that was like, and how I was often handed the "problem" writers who struggled to conform to the industry standards. (The original thread is gone, but for context, it was about the lack of accessibility in publishing for people with ADHD) I didn't know it then because I wasn't yet diagnosed, but I understood the problems these writers were having because our brains functioned on the same wavelength.

I understood why they felt specific changes harmed the text, but I also understood that it was the cost of being published, and it was my job to help them with it. I went above and beyond to make it as painless for them as possible. All the while listening to my colleagues around the wine water cooler deride these writers as "pretentious" and "too thin-skinned for publishing."

I hated them. I still hate them, and I hate that the industry is the way it is because it's really not that difficult to accommodate.

Suppose an ADHD author tells you the changes you've made have made a sentence incomprehensible to them (and I cannot stress enough how distressing it is to have something you wrote be turned into something you cannot read). In that case, it's likely because you've removed certain critical elements for the sake of brevity. It might not look like vital elements to you, but for ND brains, longer sentences with additional qualifiers and descriptors can really help us latch onto the "rhythm" of a text, which can help us feel more immersed and hold our attention better*.

Filler words can help with this; it gives our brain time to process but also figure out which parts are essential and to hold onto. It's sort of like, uh, how people say "like" and "uh" a lot (😋). These act as both social cues that indicate that while we might be pausing in our speech, we are not done talking yet, but also help keep our brains jogging along via the act of vocal stimulation. (If I can find the study I read on this, I'll come back and post the link.)

Regarding "superfluous" adjectives and "weak" adverbs, they often function to provide emphasis and context we might otherwise miss. Sure, you can go overboard with them, and they can lose all meaning if you do, but the general writing advice that "adverbs NEVER be used" is not only lousy in general but also means those of us who struggle with social cues and emotional context can be left feeling out of the loop.

I can't tell you the number of times I've had to go back and verify that a character is experiencing an Emotion because it wasn't emphasized, or the author tried to make it into a gut punch by using "sharp, punchy" language (but all they use is "sharp, punchy" language!), and my brain glossed over it because, well, if it's not part of the greater sentence structure, it's irrelevant.

And this shit is my job! I'm being paid to notice these things! It's just not how my brain works naturally, and forcing it to do so long-term is not only exhausting but distressing. Why would I keep trying to read something that causes me exhaustion and makes me feel stupid because I'm struggling to understand it?

Now, obviously, there will be times when a text needs sprucing up. Everyone has their "comfort" style of writing, and while repetition can be soothing to read, it can also make the text hard to engage with. Same with run-on sentences. Sometimes you need those one-word gut punches. Or everyone's favorite, the italicized "oh."

The trick is finding a happy medium between the two that retains your personal voice and writing style. A good editor will work with you to make this possible. A bad one will hack everything to pieces and tell you, "that's just how it's meant to be."

I was lucky with my editors. Sometimes, I had to tell them that the proposed changes wouldn't work and were causing me distress because I couldn't read them. And I knew. I knew if I couldn't follow the sentence structure, a good chunk of my prospective readers wouldn't be able to either. They weren't doing anything wrong. They were doing their jobs and ensuring my book had as much mainstream readability appeal as possible. However, the problem is that "mainstream readability," as we've already established, isn't accessible to a large chunk of the population. So we found ways to work around it. We made it work.

As is evident in the messages I get in my inbox daily.

Every single day, someone else tells me their friend recommended Phangs to them, and they were skeptical because they haven't been able to read a published book in years. And every single day, someone new tells me they loved Phangs, but the biggest thing they loved about it, was that they were even able to read it at all.

So thank you for the greatest compliment you can give me. A lot of work went into ensuring Phangs would be accessible to as many people as possible.

Also, sorry the industry is like *gestures* this.

----

*This is a generality and not true for everyone. People are not monoliths. I am merely speaking from my personal experiences from the things I have observed in the industry as an editor, a writer, and a lifelong reader who also now struggles to read the current style favored by the mainstream industry.

#writing #publishing #adhd #long post #sorry to just keep ranting about adhd stuff atm #but it's all on my mind

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