#it prevents any button from working

[ace-of-drakes]

y’all i’m locked out of my microwave

[nobodysuspectsthebutterfly]

FYI artists and writers: some info regarding tumblr's new "third-party sharing" (aka selling your content to OpenAI and Midjourney)

You may have already seen the post by @staff regarding third-party sharing and how to opt out. You may have also already seen various news articles discussing the matter.

But here's a little further clarity re some questions I had, and you may too. Caveat: Not all of this is on official tumblr pages, so it's possible things may change.

(1) "I heard they already have access to my data and it doesn't really matter if I opt out"

From the 404 article:

A new FAQ section we reviewed is titled “What happens when you opt out?” states “If you opt out from the start, we will block crawlers from accessing your content by adding your site on a disallowed list. If you change your mind later, we also plan to update any partners about people who newly opt-out and ask that their content be removed from past sources and future training.”

So please, go click that opt-out button.

(2) Some future user: "I've been away from tumblr for months, and I just heard about all this. I didn't opt out before, so does it make a difference anymore?"

Another internal document shows that, on February 23, an employee asked in a staff-only thread, “Do we have assurances that if a user opts out of their data being shared with third parties that our existing data partners will be notified of such a change and remove their data?” Andrew Spittle, Automattic’s head of AI replied: “We will notify existing partners on a regular basis about anyone who's opted out since the last time we provided a list. I want this to be an ongoing process where we regularly advocate for past content to be excluded based on current preferences. We will ask that content be deleted and removed from any future training runs. I believe partners will honor this based on our conversations with them to this point. I don't think they gain much overall by retaining it.”

It should make a difference! Go click that button.

(3) "I opted out, but my art posts have been reblogged by so many people, and I don't know if they all opted out. What does that mean for my stuff?"

This answer is actually on the support page for the toggle:

This option will prevent your blog's content, even when reblogged, from being shared with our licensed network of content and research partners, including those that train AI models.

And some further clarification by the COO and a product manager:

zingring: A couple people from work have reached out to let me know that yes, it applies to reblogs of "don't scrape" content. If you opt out, your content is opted out, even in reblog form. cyle: yep, for reblogs, we're taking it so far as "if anybody in the reblog trail has opted out, all of the content in that reblog will be opted out", when a reblog could be scraped/shared.

So not only your reblogged posts, but anyone who contributed in a reblog (such as posts where someone has been inspired to draw fanart of the OP) will presumably be protected by your opt-out. (A good reason to opt out even if you yourself are not a creator.)

Furthermore, if you the OP were offline and didn't know about the opt-out, if someone contributed to a reblog and they are opted out, then your original work is also protected. (Which makes it very tempting to contribute "scrapeable content" now whenever I reblog from an abandoned/disused blog...)

(4) "What about deleted blogs? They can't opt out!"

I was told by someone (not official) that he read "deleted blogs are all opted-out by default". However, he didn't recall the source, and I can't find it, so I can't guarantee that info. If I get more details - like if/when tumblr puts up that FAQ as reported in the 404 article - I will add it here as soon as I can.

Edit, tumblr has updated their help page for the option to opt-out of third-party sharing! It now states:

The content which will not be shared with our licensed network of content and research partners, including those that train AI models, includes: • Posts and reblogs of posts from blogs who have enabled the "Prevent third-party sharing" option. • Posts and reblogs of posts from deleted blogs. • Posts and reblogs of posts from password-protected blogs. • Posts and reblogs of posts from explicit blogs. • Posts and reblogs of posts from suspended/deactivated blogs. • Private posts. • Drafts. • Messages. • Asks and submissions which have not been publicly posted. • Post+ subscriber-only posts. • Explicit posts.

So no need to worry about your old deleted blogs that still have reblogs floating around. *\o/*

But for your existing blogs, please use the opt out option. And a reminder of how to opt out, under the cut:

The opt-out toggle is in Blog Settings, and please note you need to do it for each one of your blogs / sideblogs.

On dashboard, the toggle is at https://www.tumblr.com/settings/blog/blogname [replace "blogname" as applicable] down by Visibility:

For mobile, you need the most recent update of the app. (Android version 33.4.1.100, iOs version 33.4.) Then go to your blog tab (the little person icon), and then the gear icon for Settings, then click Visibility.

Again, if you have a sideblog, go back to the blog tab, switch to it, and go to settings again. Repeat as necessary.

If you do not have access to the newest version of the app for whatever reason, you can also log into tumblr in your mobile browser. Same URL as per desktop above, same location.

Note you do not need to change settings in both desktop and the app, just one is fine.

I hope this helps!

[piper-2244]

goodnight moon

how spencer turns college!reader's bad sleeping habits into very good sleeping habits.

MDNI | smut! word count: 1931 warnings & tags & stuff: fem reader, fingering, oral sex (f receiving), slightest teensiest bit of overstim, fluff to the moon, spence and reader just being sweet, spence just being obsessed and concerned with every little thing about reader authors note: hiiii. soooo this is TERRIFYING. why is smut soooooo scary and vulgar. but i've been working on this one for a long while and i think i'm happyish with it??? idk. its not really adding anything new or revolutionary to the world but i think its cute!! lemme know your thoughts. i think smut is something i'll get better at writing with time but yk. okay whatever have a lovely day and i hope you enjoy!!

There’s a noticeable tension in your shoulders as you lay down on top of the covers of your bed. Your face crushes into the soft down of many pillows, nose buried into the crevices. You trace out the clean smell of Spencer's shampoo that manages to linger on your sheets even after a week of him being away on a case, the fragrance making your head become even heavier with each deep inhale you take.

You can physically feel the exhaustion clawing at your soul. Eyes shut, blocking out the harsh shine of the overhead light you definitely forgot to turn off, you reach your arm up to work on the knot in your shoulder. You roll it back, feeling an unsettling click that probably shouldn’t be there. 

Spencer would be able to work the knot out like it was nothing, if he were here.

You shift your leg up, thinking. When did he say he’d be home earlier today? You had called him before your final exam this afternoon, for some encouragement and reminders on the principles of astronomy.

The all-consuming fog in your brain prevents you from remembering any of the important details of the conversation, such as when he’d be home, so you choose instead to just replay the soft I love yous he had said into your ear. 

By this point you’re sprawled across a good portion of your bed, back to the ceiling with one leg bent, head turned to the side. Your spine sinks down into the mattress, relieving the aches just a bit, and the sweet, sweet release of sleep ensues minutes later.

Until it gets quite rudely interrupted.

You don’t hear him enter the room. You haven’t even opened your eyes to see him. The only thing you notice when you wake is the feeling that you’re being picked up from your hips and rotated, a complete 180.

“Hello?” you ask loudly even before your eyes open.

When they do open, they see your lovely boyfriend standing above you, grimacing like he’s been caught. Spencer’s hands are holding you mid air, and you look at him, wildly confused, as you blink away the sleep in your eyes.

He’s still wearing his work clothes, the thick sweater vest that you got him last year for his birthday layered over his button-up. He must have just gotten inside, his bag was still crossed over his body. 

“Hi honey. What are you, um, doing?” you ask quietly. His nose scrunches in a cute attempt to push his glasses up his nose without using his already occupied hands.

“Hi. Sorry for waking you up.” He ducks down to kiss your forehead. “You just really shouldn’t be sleeping on your stomach. Bad sleeping posture can actually worsen chronic pain more than any other factor in your daily life,” he explains, setting you down but keeping a firm grasp on your waist. Your mouth forms an awkward little smile, matching his. “I had to intervene.”

“I know. It’s just so uncomfy. But why’d you pick me up? You could’ve just nudged me, or, you know, asked…” you grumble. You make room for him, however, as you speak. He sets his bag down and clambers into bed next to you, body seemingly rivaling yours in exhaustion. He leans against the headboard, turning his head to look at you.

“I wouldn’t normally do that, but I knew you were exhausted, so I figured you’d be less likely to wake up if your body was physically touching fewer things,” he justifies, logic drawing a soft giggle from you. You settle into a comfortable silence, the room still bathed in artificial light and Spencer still in his work clothes.

He eventually breaks the stillness after a minute, turning towards you. “How did your astronomy final go today?”

“I think I did alright. Our study sessions paid off, I think. But it was never my strong suit,” you reply, tracing your fingers over his leg. “I’m so achy now though. It’s strange what four hours of math can do to your body.” 

His hand slides up your arm in response, lightly pressing on the tense spots. 

“It’s strange what four hours of math and sleeping like a contortionist does to your body,” he corrects with his little know-it-all look, fingers circling a bit more firmly into your shoulder.

“I also really, really missed you,” you add, smiling back at him. “So be nice to me.”

“I missed you,” Spencer responds, even sweeter. “And I am being nice.”

You roll your eyes and he reaches over to kiss you gently. “Would you like me to be nicer?” he whispers softly. Your brain is all but short circuiting as you look at him, his eyes flitting between yours like he was searching the stars.

Your head is nodding even before you can actually realize what he means.

Then, his body is gone from yours. You stay silent, trying to regulate your breath, eyes following him as he stands and walks over to turn off the big light. Your eyes flicker to adjust, but with the moon’s gentle shine pouring into your window, it’s absolutely perfect. 

A blush, that you're hoping the new darkness will conceal, creeps up your cheeks when you see the soft outline of Spencer’s back as he takes off his sweater vest and pulls at his tie. He turns back and looks at you, eyes all soft and full of adoration. “Yeah? Not too tired?”

“Nope,” you murmur, convincing yourself as much as him. He finishes getting into his PJ’s and walks back to you. You straighten your back, trying to appear as awake as possible. “I’m not.”

“Yes, you are,” he says back at you, voice gentle. “You can barely keep your eyes open.” A kiss, this one to your cheek, softens the blow of his words. You shake your head, but he continues. “You were sound asleep not even ten minutes ago, and you’ve yawned six times in the last five minutes.” His hand strokes the side of your waist.

“Spencer. I'm fine,” you huff. He smiles a little and sits next to you on the bed. His mouth is on yours, kissing you firmly, sweetly. 

A hand, always in motion, always calculated, slides up to your nape and presses you closer. The other slides down and thumbs under the hem of your top, grazing lightly over your skin, making it erupt in goosebumps.

His brow scrunches softly. “You’re so worked up.”

You stay silent, begging him with your eyes. He dips down and kisses right where he touched, and your hips lift a bit in response. 

“Honey. Lie back,” he says, and you do so. He readjusts his body so he’s on top of you, one leg slotted between yours. He kisses your forehead, cheeks, nose, and then moves down to your neck. He kisses that one spot beneath your ear that makes you gasp quietly. He then does it again, and again, and again, in that focused way of his. 

Wordlessly, he slides down further. His nose bumps underneath your belly button, in the thin stripe of skin showing where your top meets your panties. “Okay?” he asks.

“Yes. Please. Please, Spence,” you whimper softly, head feeling like a cloud of gas from the endorphins. He peppers even more kisses there and ghosts his fingers over your hip bone. He slides your panties down an inch and immediately kisses the skin that’s revealed.

“I thought about doing this to you all the time while I was away,” he murmurs. He presses another kiss more firmly on your hips, even closer to your soaked core, sucking gently and leaving a mark. “These should be off by now,” he muses, gently pulling your underwear down. 

His hand is immediately where you want it, two fingers pushing up against your folds, and to your clit. He touches in little circles, sending jolts of pleasure up your stomach, eyes looking up to yours to gauge your feelings. 

You almost hate Spencer for how fucking good it feels. You let out a soft moan, heart pounding. And when his middle finger sinks into your entrance with no word of warning, you toss your head back and close your legs around his hand. Spencer’s mouth twists into that little smile of his, pushing ever so deep into you, and says, “It feels better when you keep your legs open, sweet girl. If you need more, tell me.” You nod immediately, desperately. 

“Yeah. I need more,” you whisper, and he bends down and gives your clit a kitten lick. Your hand goes to his hair, softly pushing him closer. He gets the message and presses his tongue flat against it, eliciting a moan from you.

“You’re so pretty like this, under me. I missed you.”

You really do almost forget just how nice it was to have him on top of you after a week, telling you nice things and making you feel so good. He pushes his ring finger in to match his middle, stretching you slightly and adding pressure to where he knows it feels good. Your eyes screw shut and you furrow your brow in overwhelming pleasure, a soft exhale coming from deep within you.

“This good?” he asks, other hand coming to take care of your clit in his mouth’s absence. You nod frantically, looking down at Spencer. He watches where his hand comes in contact with you, pushing in and out at a steady pace. “You’re not normally this quiet. Is it a lot?”

“Yeah,” you whimper. “Feel so sensitive.” He presses a soft kiss onto your clit, and you jolt.

“Sweet girl. It’s been a little while, huh? Even right before I left, I didn’t use my mouth." You shake your head in agreement. “You’re doing so well for me though.” 

He resumes with his tongue, working you into oblivion. His free hand holds your hips steady, hindering you from writhing away from the mind-numbing pleasure.

His mouth is occupied and your brain is utterly ruined, so the only noises coming from the two of you are your soft exhales and whimpers, and the obscene sound of his hand pushing incessantly into you.

And eventually it does, in fact, become too much. He sends you into orbit. You lift your hips, practically pushing yourself into his face, pleasure coursing through you.

“Spence, I’m. I-” your voice gets caught in your throat. 

“I know,” he says, calm and collected. A stark contrast to whatever the fuck you’re feeling right now. 

He keeps going in the same way, steadily driving you through your orgasm. You let out one last moan and your body relaxes and limps around him, chest moving up and down rapidly. 

You come back to earth and grab his arm to tug him away. But he stays, pressing kisses all over you, watching you with his imploring eyes.

“You can take it. Missed you so much. Just one more,” he says in broken little sentences, parting with your core for just a second before resuming, hand picking up speed again. But this time, you don’t feel as awake. As alert. Your chest feels heavy, and your eyelids even heavier.

The post-orgasmic haze has settled even more into your bones, pressing you down deeper and deeper into the dark chasm of sleep once again.

The last thing you see before you succumb is the moon casting a perfect glow onto Spencer, still diligently pressing soft kisses onto you, holding your hips still so you won’t roll over in your sleep like before.

[mooooonnnzz]

I saw your earlier post on Platonic fics and Im a sucker for them so here u go : father figure stanford headcannons maybe takes place after he comes back from the portal, reader is an adventurous spirit that works at the shack and maybe secretly helped stan get his brother back? Idk im just throwing things here lol

You Know I Love You Still

Stanford x daughter!reader

💗 stanford dad hc!!

💗 i literally saw the request it and started writing and got a lil carried away 😭 its like half story half hc? if that makes sense

💗 requests r so open rn! i def dont have any fav requests… (anything platonic or familial will be the first ones i write i LOVE those types of requests)

💗 the age of the reader is young like 16/17? ik that lowkey contradicts with the time line but wtv STANFORD DAD HC!!

💗 it’s a little bit of everything? like it’s not only just reader and stanford, the twins r also included in some scenarios and also stan

💗 a big happy family 😭

💗 fem reader gulp i completely didnt realize until i was done that i used she/her when referring to the reader

💗 next fic will use gender neutral pronouns I SWUEAR!!

💗2k words

💗 i apologize for rhe misspell and mistakes i didnt catch in advance

Working together with your Uncle Stan to build the portal to bring your dad back to the right dimension was tiresome. Nights were sleepless and many of them were spent in the underground lab, where you and Stan did everything possible to assemble the portal. Trying to keep such a secret away from the twins and Soos was unexpectedly hard. The knowledge of hiding someone so vital to you and to your Uncle Stan was weighing down on you and him. Then came the day where his awaited arrival was promised. You could barely sleep that night. You thought of so many different possibilities and scenarios of how you would greet him. Would he remember you? Did he ever miss you? Does he even love you?!

The next day came in like a tornado and before you knew it, you were protectively standing in front of the button; trying your absolute hardest to prevent the twins from pressing the button.

“Why do you guys want to stop the portal so badly!” You yelled over the loud swirling wind that emitted from the portal. “Because it’s dangerous!” Dipper retorted, using his arm to shield him from the debris whizzing past him. “G-Grunkle Stan isn’t who he says he is!” Dipper said, stepping closer to you.

“Whatever you guys saw or heard isn’t what you think it is! Please, you need to believe me.” You begged, your eyes brimming with tears. You’ve worked so hard to get this portal up and running and you weren’t going to let Dipper or anyone stop you from being able to see your dad.

Soos came up from behind and wrapped his arms around you. “I’m sorry, dude.” He picked you up and took you away from the button. “Soos, no!” You thrashed around his hold. You pound your fists against his arms, hoping it’ll loosen his grip on you but nothing you did worked. No matter how much you begged and fought against him, he didn’t budge. He just held you closer to him, muttering ‘I’m Sorry’ under his breath.

“This all stops now!” Dipper raised his hand, palm flattened out, ready to push the button when Stan appeared at the doorway. “Don’t touch that button!”

He’s hunched forward, hand leaning on the frame of the doorway as he pants. Relief washes over you upon seeing Stan. Silence fills the room for a minute and all you can hear is your heart hammer against your ribcage. Stan walks towards Dipper, beckoning him to not press the button.

“If you just let me explain—“ He’s cut off by his watch repeatedly beeping. Suddenly the ground begins to shake.

The portal powers up and the circle enlarges. The electricity spazzes and travels throughout the room, creating streaks of electrical power. Your feet lift off the ground and soon everyone’s floating up in the air. The wind is fierce and it’s whipping through every direction, pushing you towards the wall.

Dipper yells at Mable to turn off the portal before it causes anymore damage. She tugs herself closer to the button using a stray cable and while she wraps herself around the neck holding up the button, Stan is begging her to listen to him and to not press the button. He’s soon tackled by Soos who pushes him away from Mable. They all fight with each other and you’re watching with a bated breath.

The portal pulses with power, sending you back first into the wall. Stan and Dipper bicker back and forth and Mable is torn with the decision of either believing her brother or her Grunkle. She lowers her hand, eyes closed and you're almost convinced she’s going to press the button when she lets go of the button. She floats up with her arms raised. “Grunkle Stan, I believe you.” She says.

“Mable, are you crazy?! We’re all gonna—!”

The world flashes white and you're immediately knocked out. You awaken to yourself plummeting face first down to the floor. You groan, pushing yourself up with one hand and the other wiping off the dust on your face. Looking around you can see your family scattered around the room, each of them slowly waking up from whatever happened and stumbling back to their feet.

Your head quickly whips towards the portal and your heart lurches into your throat upon seeing a figure step out of it. He stands still, staring straight ahead as he takes off his hood and goggles. And what hid behind them was your father.

After the initial shock of meeting the one behind the three books and the reveal of him being related to Stan was pushed aside, you presented yourself with the help of Stan. “H-Hi, Dad.” You awkwardly greet yourself.

His eyes stop on you and he freezes, eyes blown wide and mouth slightly ajar. He takes a minute to process the absurdity of the situation before he’s snapping back to consciousness. He blinks once, his mouth stuttering as he finds the right words to say. He then blinks again, stepping a cautious step towards you. Your name softly spills out of his mouth and your heart soars hearing your Dad finally utter your name again.

You take a step forward and then another and another until you’re face to face with him. Being closer to him allowed you to see how much he has aged since the last time you saw him. “Dad…” You whisper, throwing yourself into him.

A light wheeze escapes his mouth from the sudden impact of your body crashing on him. Once he recovers, his arms are quickly wrapped around you, hugging you with so much warmth and love you almost sobbed right then and there.

He snuggled his face against your hair, breathing in your familiar scent he missed so dearly while he was away. “We have so much to catch up on.” You say so quietly that he almost lost your words if it wasn’t for you being directly near his ear. He hums in affirmation, cherishing the long awaited reunion with his daughter.

“I feel like this is another part where one of us faints again.” Mable says in utter disbelief at the scene that unfolded in front of her. “Ohoh!” Soos laughed out. “I’m so on it, dudes.” As if on command his eyes roll to the back of his head and he faints flat on his back.

HEADCANON TIME!!

• You weren’t really expecting to talk to him much due to Stan wanting to talk to his brother, but after their fight, he came looking for you. When he found you, you were sitting on the couch that was outside on the porch. You were reading a book you recently purchased from the bookstore. Nose deep in your book, you failed to realize Ford standing beside you. His hands were shoved in the pockets of his trench coat. Quietly he asked, “Is there room for one more?”

• The night was spent with the two of you getting to know each other. From your favorite color to your favorite show, what food you like to eat and so on. Ford wanted to fully understand and know you as a person. He wanted to make up all the years he lost with you.

• The next day, you awoke to the smell of your favorite breakfast food being cooked. With haste you pushed your blanket off of you and slipped on your slippers and sped off into the kitchen where Ford was buttering the pan. He looked over to you and flashed you a smile. “I made you your favorite.” He said, motioning over to the table where he laid out your breakfast. “You didn’t have to do this.” You scratched your cheek, a small laugh of surprise leaving you. “I’m just doing what I always dreamed of doing.” He shoveled out his breakfast onto his plate using a spatula. “How’s the food, kiddo?” He asks, placing the pan and spatula on the dirty side of the sink. “Actually pretty good for someone who hasn't been in this dimension for over a decade!” You jest, taking another delicious bite from your breakfast. Ford jokingly rolled his eyes, ruffling your hair as he walked past you and sat down on his chair. “Already poking fun at me.” He said, shaking his head.

• Stanford knew he had to focus on his projects, he had so many things he left unfinished that he'd been dying to get his hands on the minute he stepped foot into his dimension. But he couldn’t seem to pull himself away from you. He loved seeing you interact with the twins, he loved watching how pieces of his personality shone through you. Like the way you’re so meticulous with where you put things, or how you were forever curious about the things around you, and even the abundance of questions you’d mutter to yourself as you discovered something new. That’s all of him right there, in front of him and he couldn’t grasp such a thought that you were his!

• He finds himself gazing upon baby photos Stan took of you when you were younger. Even if he’s angry at his twin currently, he’s forever grateful that he documented such beautiful memories in a scrapbook. “Y’know, I used to tell stories about you to her.” A shriek leaves Ford. He jumps forward, the scrapbook tumbling down his lap and onto the floor. “You idiot! Be careful.” Stan sneered, kneeling down to the floor to pick up the scrapbook. “Stanley!” Ford leans his head back, trying to regain his composure. “You scared me!” He says. “Yeah, yeah. I know.” Stan waves him off, grabbing the scrapbook and tucking it in between his arms. They stand in awkward silence, eyes darting around the place uneasily. “Did…” Ford starts, shattering the silence. “Did she like the stories you told of me?” Stan smiles fondly, nodding his head. “She loved them. She thought you were some stupid amazing superhero, no matter what I told her.” Ford furrowed his brows. “Wait, what do you mean by no matter what you told her?” Stan nervously laughed. “Hey, why don’t you keep looking at these photos! Wait here, look at this one. Haha! She’s trying to eat her toes, isn’t that adorable?” “Stanley.”

• Outings between the two of you were very common. He loved being tugged around the town of Gravity Falls by you as you pointed at various different shops and locations. You told him the reasons why you hated them or loved them, and some were tied to stories that happened within the summer. He seriously questioned how you and the twins survived so many times where you were just so close to death. The mall was a place where you and him resided the most. With the money he took from Stan, he paid for almost everything you wanted. Entering the shack with so many bags was a shock to everyone. “Woah! Did you buy the whole mall?” Mable jokes, grabbing one of the bags to help you with the load. “Basically,” you laughed, instructing Mable to rally Soos and Dipper to have a little haul of what you bought. Stan watched with a raised brow as you stumbled into the living room with Mable following closely behind. “Where did you get all the money to buy her all of that?” Stan asks. “Just stole some money from some hobo.” Ford said, walking into the living room to join in on the haul. Stan didn’t understand what he said and opened the cash register. When he saw all the money he had stored the day before gone, it all clicked.

• Adventures out in the woods is a must. Gathering the twins and your dad, all four of you venture out into the woods in hopes to find something new. “Why couldn’t Grunkle Stan tag along with us?” Mable asked as she kneeled down to pluck a flower from the dirt. “Because he’s being a wet towel.” Dipper muttered, scribbling down a rough drawing of the flower Mable was picking in a book you bought him. “So what kind of anomalies you three stumbled upon?” Ford questioned. You and the twins began to dump everything onto him, from when you started seeing them to when Dipper and Mable came. Ford couldn’t truly focus on what they were saying, mostly because it was a jumbled excited mess of words, but partially because he was astonished with the trio in front of him. They went through so much and yet they’re still so headstrong. He could definitely see a little bit of him in Dipper and Mable.

• Stan would find you and Ford fallen asleep on the couch or in his lab, all huddled up together and completely knocked out. Snores filled the room and he found it amusing that you and him both snores the same. Videos and photos were definitely taken by Mable.

• Ford would tell stories of his adventures in another dimension to you. Stemming from how he started from the ground up to him getting banned from many other dimensions for stealing parts. “You’re not so different from Uncle Stan,” You laughed, shaking your head. “What! It was only a few…hundred dimensions.”

• There’s times where you’d wake up in a cold sweat, afraid that your Dad finally coming back was just a painful dream your brain played on you. But when you would get ready to find him, you’d step on his stomach or back. “Ough!” Ford groaned out in pain. Being suddenly woken up from his sleep, he sat up, looking around confused. “What are you doing sleeping on the floor?” You sat back down on your bed, pulling the blankets over you. “Is there a problem with me sleeping on the floor?” Ford asks, looking at you with squinted eyes. “No, no.” You laid back down on your bed. “Go back to sleep. I’m better now,” You say, somewhat amused with Ford sleeping on the floor beside your bed. “Goodnight, I love you.” You brush your fingers playfully across his face to annoy him. He shoves your fingers away from his face, huffing out. “Goodnight,” He shuffles to his side, looking up to you with a small smile. “I love you more, kiddo.”

[sunniskyies]

𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐝 || 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐏𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬 𝐎𝐧𝐞-𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐭

𝐑𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭: - 𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Reader forgets she has Ford’s mind reading device on… 𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Ford Pines x fem!shy!reader 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: - 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬: Makeout, fluffy shy stuff 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2k 𝐀/𝐍: This is so so so out of my league with this kind of thing, but I had a vision and had to try, so forgive me if it’s not the best !! ( you can read this as young or old Ford by the way ! )

“Are you going to tell me what exactly that is?” You ask shyly, perched neatly on a wooden stool in the deepest room of Ford’s laboratory. The man in question is bustling around the benches, plugging in wires and fiddling with dials and buttons.

“It’s a mental-strengthening device, able to encrypt one’s thoughts to prevent dream demons like Bill Cipher from entering.”

You purse your lips. “Ah. Of course.”

Ford looks briefly over at you while he tinkers. “I don’t want any chance of that creature making his way into our world. The damage he causes is… irrevocable.”

You fall silent, quietly studying the scientist’s practised hands and that little furrow in his brow you doubt he’s aware of. You see it often, in your stolen glances as you set his coffee down in the mornings, or when his eyes linger for a moment on his work when you call for his attention.

You let yourself sit in the warm feeling that spreads through your skin, toying with the fantasy of him for just a moment. Before you know it, Ford is approaching you with a gadget in his hands, and you’re pushing those silly thoughts from your mind.

“This is the receiver,” Ford explains, gesturing to the sieve-like helmet in his hands. “May I put it on you?”

All you manage is a ‘mhm’, and you hope your ears aren’t bright red when Ford places the bronze contraption over your hair. As he adjusts it here and there his fingers often brush your skin, you’re mortified as goosebumps shiver over your skin. Luckily, from what you know about Stanford Pines, he isn’t the most observant man unless you happen to have three eyes or an off-on switch.

Being Ford’s assistant has been the best opportunity of your life, but childishly you often wish for something more. To see those lips say your name not just to thank you for your helping hands. To have the confidence to show Ford the book of research you’ve been privately gathering, his eyes catching yours as he realises the potential he’d never seen in you before…

For the millionth time reality pulls you from your daydreams. Ford crouches down slightly, your faces level, your eyes on his while his are at your hairline. A six-fingered hand gently tucks loose strands back from your face.

“There,” he says, eyes catching yours. “Equipped. How does that feel?”

You swallow, voice a tad too squeaky, “All good!” 

“Perfect. I’ll begin the calibration, inform me if you experience any discomfort,” he nods, satisfied, before sweeping away again.

As you wait, you silently tap on your knees, looking around. You look over the table behind you to see a television screen with—

Your thoughts.

A string of your most embarrassing ideas visualised on a ceiling-high collection of screens, unarguably clingy and desperate desires paired with Ford’s name scrolling everywhere.

You whip your gaze over to Ford, dew already appearing over your skin. He seems to be engrossed in whatever's in his hands, but it’s only a matter of time before he sees all… that!

Fuck, fuck, fuck! The screens mirror the chant in your mind.

You try vainly to think of other things, random words and imagery slowly but surely creeping onto the televisions. Polar Bears. Adjectives. Pencils, pens, markers. Dates and historical impact of various civil wars. Charity raffles. That one catchy jingle. Discombobulation. Ambystoma mexicanum.

Ford looks up. “Finished!” He says with a quick smile.

You quietly clear your throat. “Uhm. Wow! This is very clever, Ford, although I must admit didn’t realise it displayed the user's consciousness?”

His eyebrows raise at your question, before his face softly twists with confusion as he stares at the reading. He glances back over at you with the face of someone just realising how stupid something is. Yet, you almost slump with relief. At least he only thinks you're simple, not a freak.

“Well, yes, it does. Did I not mention that?” He says slowly. “I was going to suggest you exercise your brain to ensure the program reaches every aspect of your cognition… but it seems you’re… already… doing that?” He questions hesitantly. Your smile is too-bright.

“Oh, yes, that is what I am doing. Yep.” You squeak.

“Right.”

The silence is palpable, a thick sludge that clings to your form. Sometimes both your wandering stares slide over each other, awkward blips before you both avert eye contact. You hear the hum of machinery, the soft tap of your shoe on the floor. Your fingers itch to grab your journal from your pocket to give yourself something to do with your hands, but you’re embarrassed at what Ford would see as you ponder over it. The silence stretches on and on, until you can’t bear not to break it.

“So, you, uhm, said something about exercising the mind?” You blurt sheepishly.

Ford’s eyes are immediately on you. “Yes! Yes, just try to keep your mind active, it helps the protection process.”

And the silence is back. Perhaps even worse than before.

Desperate for relief, you pull your journal from your pocket. You wave it weakly, “Mind if I do some work?”

Ford adjusts his glasses. “No, no of course not. Go ahead.” He gestures at the various desks stationed around the room. You shoot him a quick smile and spin on your stool to the table next to you, propping open the journal and continuing an essay you plan to submit as a paper in your current university course.

This works, taking your mind off your vulnerability as you focus on your work. This is what you love about science, about academia, the ability to lose yourself in something so complex, so worthwhile. You really can’t wait to get your research out there and make a name for yourself.

You write for a while, pen often times balanced between teeth. You don’t quite register Ford coming up behind you until his tilted head is in your peripheral.

“Fantastic,” he mutters absently, his face well and truly absorbed on the open page. Embarrassed, you half-heartedly cover the page with your hands.

“Oh, no, it’s really not anything special.” You mumble, eyes averted. 

“No, really, I love it. You’re studying quantum physics, right?” He insists, head tilted trying to catch his eye. When you do, he has a soft smile painted on. Your cheeks glow pink.

“Yes, I major in quantum physics and forensic science. I minor in biomedical engineering, and I’m additionally doing an online paper on parapsychology with the only university that does it, in, uh, Finland.” The sparkle in Ford’s eyes grows as you timidly recite your areas of study.

“Parapsychology? That’s brilliant!” He remarked, awed. “Why didn’t you say that, I would love to take you out on my field days. I study all sorts of paranormal and supernatural activity here. It'd be great to share it with someone.”

“Oh, I don’t want to trouble you,” you say hushed, fending off a stammer. Internally, your heart is soaring. Yes yes yes!

“It’d be no trouble,” he says earnestly, soft features returned as if coaxing you out of your shell. “I knew you were smart, but I had no idea the extent,’ he says, almost to himself.

Your eyes lock on him immediately. “You think that?”

He seems surprised. “Of course I do. You’re an exceptional assistant, and you’ve been in study for ages. I’ve heard nothing less than great things about when I send my own work to our local university. Not many scholars live out here, you know?”

You can’t drag your eyes away from him, and you're sure Ford can see every star in the galaxy swirling in your pupils right now. This is everything, everything you’ve wanted.

You’re not sure whether it’s the surge of confidence, or the way Ford’s looking so gently at you, but you’re acutely aware of how low Ford has bent down to talk to you. It would only take a small movement to bring your faces together.

And so, heart fluttering with this moment of bravery, you rise slightly up on the balls of your feet and press a small kiss to Ford’s cheek.

“Thank you,” you breathe, the sensation in your chest borderline sickening. “It, uh, means a lot.”

Ford doesn’t say a word, eyes wide but painfully unreadable. The silence is once again, stifling.

“Not a lot of fellow scientists in this area, like you said,” You hastily ramble on after a long moment. The gap doesn’t last this time, though.

In a swift motion Ford’s hand is at your cheek. You barely have time to inhale before his lips are on yours, their warmth sinking against your mouth.

You’d never imagined them to be so firm, although his proximity doesn’t give your mind any room to think about anything. It’s all happening so fast, your mind dizzied as you reciprocate his intentful kisses.

Your pen clatters slightly on the table as your hand releases it, quickly gripping to Ford as his arms snake around you and lift you up. He spins, setting you on the table in the middle of the room. You’re sure at some point you have or will let slip an embarrassing sound, but you’re wholly focused on Ford and how you’re sitting at his level on the tall table; him standing before you with his hands at your waist. Your knees brush either side of his thighs.

Your hands bury themselves in his hair, his hands in turn pull you closer. It’s eager and messy, making your pulse thud wildly. You never thought a man would want you like this, never catching an eye. Let alone the genius that is—

Abruptly, his lips leave yours, the emptiness not lasting long as they move just beneath your lip, then down to your jaw. They trail down to the side of your neck, lips brushing over the shiver on your skin. Small breaths leave your mouth when you feel a glimmer of teeth against your collarbone.

You tilt your head, resting against his where he’s kissing your shoulder in the crook of your neck. Your hands remain tangled in his hair, your eyes closed.

Your bodies are so close together, his lips are all-consuming. It’s bliss. The man you’ve loved for so long, holding you like he’s besotted. Like he’s just as infatuated as you. The thought thrills through your mind; He wants me.

“I can assure you, I most certainly do,” Ford murmurs breathlessly against your skin. You pause, the statement uncannily sounding like a response to your thought…

Oh. Oh no.

The machine. The mind reading. The television directly behind your back.

You haltingly turn your head, face pale. The screen is, in fact, still reciting your thoughts. Every thought. And Ford’s facing it.

“Oh my god,” You groan, palming your forehead. You sink into yourself, drowning in humiliation. But Ford’s hand fishes beneath your chin, tipping your glowing face to look at him. His face is one of endless kindness beneath his mussed hair.

“It’s really not a bad thing, sweetness.” He says gently. You shake your head slightly, eyes squeezing shut.

His thumb creeps up the side of your face, face dipping level to yours. “No, seriously. It’s a very encouraging thing for a man to see.” He jokes warmly. You peek an eye open. Heavens, did he have to look so irresistibly handsome all the time?

“Should I, uhm, remove…” you gesture at the contraption atop your head, teeth worrying your lip.

Ford hesitates for a moment, thinking as his thumb strokes your cheek. “No. No, it’s too important. I can’t have Bill infiltrating your mind.” 

You wilt slightly, but Ford once again brings you back to him. “It’ll only take a moment. Half an hour at most.” His eyes flicker fleetingly at your lips. “And besides, it’ll be sunset by then. I hear you can see a meteor shower tonight? If you drive up the hill a little.”

You hum a soft confirmation, smile melting onto your flushed features as Ford presses a last kiss to your cheek. “Good,” He murmurs. “I’ll go fetch the coats.”

����𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @sleeplessdreamer14 @2hiigh2cry @taffycandyqt @papi-machucha @muffin1304

 @space1crow @fries11 @yasuuuudere @shadowsandswords @darling-eos

@bloodspatteredprincess @snake-in-a-flower-crown @defmxl @ryanthatsgay2

© sunniskyies 2024, do not repost or translate my work

[vanteguccir]

── ୨୧ !　𝗧𝗜𝗞𝗧𝗢𝗞 𝗧𝗥𝗘𝗡𝗗𝗦 | 𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗧 𝟯

　　　　　　　　𝒄𝒉𝒓𝒊𝒔 𝒔𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒐𝒍𝒐 x reader

SUMMARY: 4 times that Y/N and Chris made a couple's trend on tiktok.

WARNING: None.

REQUESTED?: Yes, by anons, @lightsgore and @love4triplets

AUTHOR'S NOTE: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

　　　༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

1.

Y/N was sitting on the couch in the living room of her house, which she shared with her boyfriend and his brothers. Her legs were crossed on the upholstered while her upper body was resting on the armrest, her head facing the kitchen.

She had her phone in hand, the TikTok recording screen open, and the audio she would use already selected.

The girl smiled slightly, clicking the red button, keeping her rear camera focused on the kitchen table.

"It might not be something you would do"

The lens captured the image of her boyfriend and his brothers behind the wooden table, basic kitchen utensils, and assorted ingredients scattered over the surface.

The triplets were filming a video where Chris had to cook them his favorite meal, and it was obvious that he was going to make an extra dish for his girlfriend.

"But you haven't seen my man"

Chris was standing behind the grill, his hands moving the spatula so that he changed the position of the burger every now and then, frying it completely.

His mouth moved quickly as he bickered with his brothers, who were on either side of him watching his movements.

"... you haven't seen my man"

The video cut to Chris approaching Y/N with a pink plate in hand and a huge smile on his face, a full burger on it.

You could see a difference between her burger and the one he made for himself and his brothers; Hers was prettier and juicier.

When posting the TikTok, Y/N wrote in the top corner: "When your boyfriend cooks for you."

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

2.

Y/N and Chris were in their shared room. Chris was sitting on his gaming chair while Y/N was on his lap, their legs wrapped around each other.

Her phone screen - which was resting on the computer table - showed the countdown to start recording TikTok.

"Hi guys! As many of you already know, Chris is addicted to hockey games, as he played it himself when he was still at school." Y/N spoke, pointing her left hand momentarily towards Chris, who nodded, keeping his eyes on the device's screen. "So today, we're going to do that trend where you guess your husband's favorite sports teams, but in this case, just to-"

"Wait! Wait, wait, wait." Chris quickly interrupted her. His hands, which had previously wrapped around her waist firmly preventing her from slipping, rose into the air. His blue eyes were wide, and his mouth was open in a perfect O.

"What?" Y/N moved her body so that her upper body was facing him, her eyes running over his shocked features. "What?"

"Husband?" Chris asked, looking at her with an involuntary smile decorating his face, his right hand resting on her back, serving as a support, while his left one traveled to her thighs, caressing the covered skin.

"Yeah. What's wrong with that?" Y/N asked, pressing her lips into a thin line, trying to stop a laugh from escaping at her boyfriend's reaction.

"There's... There's absolutely nothing wrong with that." Chris shook his head repeatedly, his cheeks burned, and he was sure they had a strong tinge of red.

"Okay..." Y/N dragged the letter "A", smiling and returning her attention to her phone. "So, I'm going to have to guess my husband's favorite sports teams-" She interrupted her own sentence, frowning when she saw on her cell screen Chris retrieving a blank paper from one of the drawers of his desk, fiddling with it while the girl spoke. "Chris, what are you doing?"

The boy let out a low childish laugh, moving the paper a few more times before finally raising his right hand, showing what he was doing.

Between his index finger and thumb was a paper ring.

"Chris, what?" Y/N let out an incredulous laugh, raising her hands so he could grab his that held the fake ring, but Chris quickly took away his own, pulling it away from her.

"Ah, ah. I'm the one who has to put it in you, wifey." He smiled amused. His eyes seemed to shine under the white light of his room, while an almost colorful aura seemed to come out of his body, warm joy surrounding him. "Give me your hand."

Y/N shook her head, feeling disbelieved. She let out a breathy laugh, raising her left hand towards him.

Chris delicately fitted the paper ring onto her ring finger, smiling a childish smile and winking at the camera, before bringing his face closer to hers and sealing his lips on her cheeks repeatedly, eliciting laughter from the girl.

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

3.

"Um, excuse me." Y/N approached Chris's figure. He was facing a shelf in that row, pretending to analyze a box of tampons.

The two were recording a TikTok trend where Y/N pretended to be a random girl hitting on Chris at the grocery store. Her phone was resting on one of the shelves so that the front camera recorded the two of them from their waist up.

Chris pretended to be startled, jumping to the side and looking at her with wide eyes.

"What do you want?"

Y/N pressed her lips into a thin line, swallowing her laughter.

"You are that famous youtuber, right?" She smirked the way she did when she flirted, keeping her eyes focused on Chris's face.

It was possible to see Chris's eyes remain on her mouth for longer than he should, his tongue escaping through his lips, wetting them.

"Hey! Put your eyes up here." Y/N fumed, hitting Chris hard in the chest with a random box that she picked up to use for the video.

"Ouch, I'm sorry, babe, you're so sexy." Chris raised his arms in surrender, smiling in amusement, returning to his serious expression quickly when he saw Y/N throw an angry look in his direction.

CUT

Y/N approached again, placing her hand on Chris's right shoulder.

"Hey, excuse me. Do you know where the candles are?" She asked in a sweet voice, stroking his covered skin.

"Oh, I'm pretty sure they're-" Chris' sentence was interrupted by a sharp slap that Y/N gave on his shoulder, right where she was caressing seconds before. "Hey! What was that for?"

"Are you going to let her caress you, Christopher?" Y/N crossed her arms, glaring at him.

"But I didn't-"

CUT

"Um, excuse me?" Y/N spoke again, approaching Chris with a box of cereal in hand.

"Yeah?" Chris lifted his gaze, looking at her carefully, waiting for her to say or do something.

"Do you know this brand of cereal? Is it good?" The girl caressed his biceps lightly, lifting the box so that it was almost glued to Chris's face.

"Don't touch me. I have a wife and kids at home." He practically shouted, pushing Y/N's hand away and taking steps back.

The girl threw her head back, her mouth opening as laughter escaped her throat.

"That was good. But Nick and Matt aren't our kids."

CUT

"Hey, you're so cute." Y/N brought her body closer to Chris's, smirking as she raised her eyes, looking into the brunette's blue ones.

The boy took a step to the side, moving away from Y/N surreptitiously.

"Yeah, I know. My girlfriend says I'm cute all the time. Thanks, tho." Chris spoke, keeping his eyes on the items on the shelf in front of him.

"Do you wanna have two?" The girl asked, swallowing her laugh as she approached again.

"Two what?" Chris asked, his voice sounding high-pitched. He widened his eyes, looking at her from the corner of them.

"Girlfriend's." She replied, the beginning of a smile appearing on the right corner of her lips.

"No, absolutely not. One is already a headache enough! Get away from me, weird bitch." The boy shouted, keeping his body facing the shelf, only turning his face towards Y/N, casting a look of false disgust towards her.

Y/N let out an instant laugh, bending her upper body forward and holding her stomach with her right hand.

"Boo!" Chris shouted towards her, widening his eyes and pushing his body forward in an attempt to scare her, before a laugh escaped his lips.

"You passed!"

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

4.

Y/N approached the bed in her shared room with Chris, where her boyfriend was lying below the duvet, sleeping. The girl had her phone in her right hand with the TikTok recording screen already open.

She clicked the red button before bringing the device closer to Chris's face. He was sleeping soundly, his right cheek pressed against the pillow and his mouth half open, where small snores escaped.

"Chris? Chris!" Y/N touched his messy hair lightly, stroking the brunette curls as she called out to him in a low voice.

"Hmm?" The boy only opened his left eye, looking at her briefly before closing it again.

"Chris, wake up!" She called again, pulling the duvet down.

"What?" Chris's voice sounded hoarse from sleep.

"My boyfriend is coming, get up!" Y/N insisted, gesturing with her hand as if asking him to stand up. "You need to hide. Go to the closet!"

"Huh?" Chris's eyes looked at her for a few long seconds, and Y/N swore she could see his brain trying to work behind his pupils.

"My boyfriend is coming, you have to hide!" Y/N repeated, pulling his arm lightly.

Chris lifted his upper body, pushing the duvet off his body, revealing his gray sweatpants and white t-shirt. He crawled to the end of the bed, ready to get up.

"Is he strong?" The boy asked, still groggy.

A laugh escaped Y/N's lips, but she cleared her throat, trying to hide it.

"Yeah." The girl responded, her voice coming out wavy from the laugh she was holding back. "Hurry!"

The camera captured the image of Chris rising, his eyes still far away from sleep and his feet staggering on the floor.

At some point, the boy tripped over his backpack that was thrown between the bed and the closet, almost falling. He quickly crouched down, sitting on the floor and pulling his legs close to his chest, as if the position would make him disappear.

A laugh escaped Y/N's mouth, making her phone shake slightly with the movement.

"Wait, who?" Chris lifted his head, looking from down at her, frowning in confusion.

"My boyfriend." Y/N responded between laughs, taking a deep breath.

"But, wait- I'm your boyfriend." The boy shook his head, confusion taking over his brain. He stretched his legs out on the floor again, leaving his hands on his thighs, staring into the wall while trying to process what was happening.

Y/N put down her phone, laughing loudly and crouching on the floor next to Chris, laying her head on his shoulder while laughter still escaped her lips.

"Are you pranking me?"

taglist:

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(If you want to be added to the taglist, go to this post)

[svtcrus]

unlawful duties || neuvillette x fem!reader

a/n : Im going against myself and ended up writing this big crazy ass smut of neuvillette. I WANT HIM SO BADDDD

disclaimer : dom!neuvillette , extremely sexual descriptions, implications of bondage nd choking , office s3x , slight aftercare

"im sorry but the chief of justice is busy right now madam!"

"really.. monsieur neuvillette? agh are you sure?" the beautiful blonde lady who is well known as the president of the spina di rosula was pestering poor sedene. arguing with the unfortunate melusine whose trying to prevent her from entering. navia completely doubtful at how the chief of justice was busy. when all he does is "stay cooped up in his office, if he's not in his playhouse" she quotes.

and while the madamoiselle is not wrong in some aspects, this very chief was busy with a different case.

"be quiet darling, seems like miss navia is right outside." here you were bent over the desk that is scattered with piles of paperwork, the feeling of a slender gloved hand trailing along your bare back. lips bitten harshly to the point of them bleeding, holding back any noise.

however your efforts are in vain upon the force of another hand gripping onto your neck pulling you up. the feeling of neuvillette's hot breath lingering near your ear, your forced to listen to the inappropriate words of the monsieur himself.

"you wouldn't want her to hear how dirty your moans are now would she?" he licks your neck before his lips find your sweet spot, suckling on your skin making you whimper through red stained lips.

this man who withholds so much power of the nation of justice has you wrapped around his own finger. has you bent over his very desk moaning his name loud beneath him, and it's making him go insane.

he breaks his composure at the very sight of you, feeling his breath hitch as his eyes linger between those crystal eyes and your soft lips.

those same lips which he kisses feverishly as he pounds himself into you, concealing your loud cries which beg him for more.

neuvillette's stamina is unpredictable just as he is mysterious. he could go on for hours of him shoving himself into you sweet cunt that's swallowing him ever so well. your walls which squeeze him so tight as he's pushing you further onto his desk, the court papers now long gone amidst the floor. he simply cannot get enough of you.

the chief's clothes are loosened, his white scarf is now used as restraints for your dainty hands. his own two? they are feeling every crevice of your body up from behind. his hand kneads against the plump of your ass, boldly pushing it to see your wetness engulfing him. your slick intermingling with his as he enters and exits your swollen hole. he could see all his love marks tracing from your neck and along your shoulder line, the sight makes him swell.

neuvillette lets out a breathy hiss as he feels your velvet walls tighten around him once more.

"s-so dirty for me darling. not caring if we..- ahhh, get caught.." low growls are leaving his mouth, the sound of skin touching skin echoing amongst the office. the attempts of being quiet long gone. you're moaning, whining, begging, his honor for more.

"please monsieur..."

"please what my love? I need you to use your words sweetheart." two of his long fingers are shoved in between the plump of your lips, you can taste yourself. all while he pounds one more time with his obscene force, before halting. awaiting for you to beg for his cock for his own pleasure.

"harder-mmf! please.. fuck me!" immediately he's back in his feverish rhythm, snapping into you like it's his last time fucking you.

"profanity is forbidden here sweetheart." he manages to say through clenched teeth, both of his hands now gripping onto your hips harshly.

hah, proper etiquette? the fact that you and the chief of justice are performing such debauchery in his place of work? the mannerful thought was long gone in neuvillettes head the moment you had pushed his buttons. now he's enjoying every second of ramming into you in his open office, where someone could very much catch you two committing an unlawful act at any time.

neuvillettes's ego rises at the sight of your naked back is covered in his slick, his godly handsome face is blushed from his efforts. long silver locks disheveled, his bangs damp from sweat. your cunt is dripping cum onto his hardwood floors, oh how will he explain such a mess to sedene?

"ah.. is sex also forbid-" you gasp at the sudden action of him pushing one leg up onto his table, solely so he can push even more deeper into you.

he's hitting all the right spots inside, nudging against the part you need him most and it's driving you crazy. his length proves it all, and god is he so big. you can feel him pulse within you as you both find release. your lover grunts while his wet fingers begin to fondle your clit. motioning them in the way he knows to make you quiver. all while he's leaning down to kiss you, as his seed makes you feel so full.

you could feel the bruises beginning to form on your lower back, his length now long gone. your legs still shaking upon orgasm.

"I hate you..." you manage to say between heavy breaths, your hands are finally freed from his scarf.

your nakedness is replaced with warmth, his coat being draped over you as situate yourself. your lover is already back in his dress pants, and a buttoned up shirt. you glare at him once reality has struck your head. yet he only smiles at you as he begins to clean you up from his mess.

"are you pressing charges on me now after you begged for my cock so well?" neuvillette whispers, those purple orbs are looking down at you. displaying how much lust he still has in him.

blushing at his sudden remark, he lets out a low chuckle.

"you love me sweetheart, lying is a crime you know?"

@svtcrus || 08.16.2023

©️ all rights reserved. do not copy / plagiarize my work.

[peachdues]

ALL THE THINGS WE LEFT UNSAID — PROLOGUE + TEASER

Tengen’s Bundle of Joy • Secret Pregnancy AU

A/N: surprise! Have a first look at Tengen’s installment of my Bundle of Joy series.

This fic will be multi-part canon-AU. It is a non-linear story (alternating between Then and Now) and double surprise! It will be a slow burn (just because they fuck doesn’t mean they’re in love!)

CW: MDNI • this story features explicit sexual content • secret pregnancy • angst • mentions of injury/head wound • these two are stubborn as fuck lmao

PROLOGUE

“The Sound Hashira is rumored to be in this region. Some mission.”

Your comrade’s off-handed comment freezes you in your step.

“Where.”

Your fellow Kinoe shrugs, unaware of the way your eyes dart anxiously around the clutter of wooden homes and ramshackle shops, as though you half-expect the silver-haired swordsman to leap out from the shadows at any moment.

“It’s not like we get details of the Hashira’s missions shared with us,” he brushes you off with a yawn. His arms fold behind his head, his gait lazy and far too casual for someone of his position as he struts lazily along an uneven path that leads to the small building marked with a fading, painted wisteria crest. “We might be Kinoe, but we’re still bottom feeders compared to them.”

You hum in half-hearted agreement, but your attention to your fellow Slayer — to your mission — flounders as the knowledge you’ve worked desperately ignore explodes out of the mental bottle you’d shoved it into.

Beneath the ever-tightening buttons of your uniform shirt your stomach has begun to swell. Slight; not yet noticeable to the naked eye, but sure as hell prominent when you’re fighting to close the last two buttons or fasten your hakama pants.

You thumb absently at your belt — now loosened two notches. Perhaps you’ll take a cue from the Love Pillar’s book and opt for a skirt. At least the waist would sit higher up, the pleats, offering cover you’ll need while you figure out what the fuck it is you’re going to do. It won’t be long before your secret is exposed; before word inevitably reaches the jewel-crusted ears of the very one you want most to avoid.

You’d be more useful dead.

A callous thing to say to a subordinate, let alone someone who’d risked their neck on more than one occasion to preserve his. And, for all the testiness that had built between you over the years, a resentment born of your mutual inability to confront the other honestly, you hadn’t expected him to resort to that.

You’d known he regretted his words the moment he hurled them your way, but it was too little, too late. And it hadn’t stopped you from leveling his ire with your own, your response a series of poisoned darts you were only happy to launch right back his way.

I look forward to meeting your expectations.

But it was his regret, perhaps, that led him to grab you by the bicep as you’d tried to leave, that yanked you back to face him, breath heavy and pupils dilating.

The crack fissuring across your chest had been dulled by the way his hand swallowed your arm; how his mouth crashed into yours, and the powerful movements of his body. But once he’d collapsed atop you, panting and spent, the wounds he’d inflicted turned raw once more, the salt of his sweat preventing your blood from clotting where he’d torn your chest clean open.

You manage a furtive shake of your head, dispersing the memory of his body and his violence from your mind. This is not the time for you to pick at the scab over your heart, not after you spent the better part of the last two months trying to force it to form. For now, you need to focus on getting the hell out of here; to get as far away from this desolate corner of the earth before the universe decides to throw you back at him.

Before he knows.

Your comrade prattles on, bragging over how he’s been lucky enough to see the Sound Pillar in battle, oblivious to the smirk settling on your lips in spite of yourself. The Kinoe you’ve traveled with seems unaware that in detailing the way the Corp’s great Uzui had appeared out of thin air to save him and the handful of other slayers cornered by a particularly fearsome avian demon, he’s admitting to his own ineptitude in finishing off the beast on his own.

The Hashira don’t come unless hope is lost; the fact Uzui had appeared at all meant they’d been done for. Yet, he wears the boast of having needed his ass saved by one who’d undoubtedly disposed of the demon with a painful swiftness like a badge of honor.

You know better.

For all the ways your fellow swordsman brags over having witnessed the Pillar’s great display of strength, you’ve seen him weak. Not only that, but you’d been the direct cause of such weakness; you’d broken him down, made him give into temptations he believed he’d suppressed.

But that weakness has led you here — chewing on your thumbnail in a fit of anxiety your comrade remains woefully ignorant of as you try banishing the memories of the Sound Pillar’s weakness from your mind.

More, you’d begged him, sweaty and panting and delirious. More.

He’d obliged you — enthusiastically so. And the way you’d fallen apart in his arms showed you that you were just as weak as he.

Not once had he bothered to apologize for what he’d done; what he’d said. And his too casual pronouncement that your death — as gruesome and violent as your profession demanded — would be a better convenience than for him to work through his own bullshit was a slash through your chest even his most fervent apologies wouldn’t be able to stitch back together.

Not that you thought he ever would offer one — but the image of him dropping to his knees and begging you for forgiveness you wouldn’t allow yourself to give was a small comfort to your bitter heart.

Besides, you’d claimed the privilege of having the last word by not saying any at all. Instead, you’d crept away from the inn, leaving him asleep on the discarded heap of his uniform in the room you’d been forced to share.

You’d given him exactly what he’d given you — nothing. And that vindication had been as sweet as it was short-lived. Now, you’re stuck with the consequences of your own pride and weakness without any idea of what to do about it.

Feigning indifference where Tengen Uzui was concerned, however, is your speciality; a skill you’d perfected just as surely as you’d mastered shadow breathing. Thus, the mask of cool neutrality is easy to slip on as you listen to your comrade continue prattling on about skill levels and techniques to improve breathing styles, chiming with a mildly interested nod when necessary.

And you plot; plot your escape from this tiny fishing village, plot how best to guard the secret you know won’t remain such for much longer. Running away from your problems had always been far easier than forcing yourself to choke them down, and this time will be no different. Of that much, you’re certain.

Coward, a voice that sounds suspiciously close to Uzui’s hisses in your head. Coward.

And so, you continue to strategize your best chance at avoiding the storm brimming on your horizon as your fellow Kinoe continues, too consumed by his blustering to notice how your had drifts to your stomach, resting on the hidden curve where the Sound Hashira’s child grows.

—-

BONUS

“The baby — the baby —“

“Where?” Tengen surveys the wreckage scattered around you, ears carefully pricked for any cry, any smaller, weaker heartbeat, but for all his strain, he can discern none. “Was it a village kid?” He jostles you as much as he can, trying to force your eyes into focus. “Where, Y/N?”

But you only keep muttering the baby, your brow furrowed, your head twitching as though in dissent, though it remains limited where it is braced in the crook of Tengen’s massive arm.

He swears under his breath as your eyes roll into your head, your lips straining to form the mantra you cannot stop repeating, even as your breath turns shallow and raspy. Two fingers find the pulse point in your neck, and Tengen swears again at weakened beat of your heart.

“You don’t get to die.” He snaps at you, hand slapping lightly at your bloodied cheek. “You don’t get to run away. Not now. Not again.”

He needs to figure out where else you might be injured — that way he can help, can stabilize you before the Kakushi arrive. You’re not taking the easy way out this time. He would stand at the gates of heaven or hell itself to block your way, ready to haul your ass right back to life so he could chew your ass out the way you so obviously needed. And once he did, he can put this volatile, tempestuous thing between you to rest. He can free himself of the bonds you’d snapped around his wrists the moment you first sized him up and cut him down with a few, caustic words.

Then, he might finally be able to let you go.

Gritting his teeth, Tengen surveys your body. Your head wound is the most prominent, but no matter how much blood mats in your hair and streaks down your face, he knows better than to assume that it’s the worst you’ve sustained.

Gently, his hands smooth along your body, and he notes every odd bend, every lump along your joints that does not belong.

“The ba — baby —“ your voice grows fainter with each word, and Tengen can only see a sliver of white peeking out from between your eyelids.

Beneath the dark crimson of your blood your skin has turned ashen.

“Y/N.” The hoarseness of his voice has nothing to do with the smoldering flames and thick smoke that has burned the village to its skeleton. His hand slides to your abdomen, ready to position you in his arms so he can run with you, can tow you to the nearest Kakushi. You will not die; he forbids it, he forbids you from even trying —

His hand settles on your navel and freezes.

Beneath the flush of his palm is a curve; an outward swelling of your stomach that had been hidden under the loose fit of your uniform shirt, but under his touch, it is unmistakeable.

A bump. A sizeable bump extends from your abdomen.

The grunts and groans of the houses and structures giving way to the crackling flames fall away, his ears filling instant with a high-pitched ring that pulses in time with his thundering heart. The sweat rolling down his neck turns cold, his chest tightening until his lungs burn. Slowly, his eyes drag back up your body until he finds your graying face once more.

For one, brief moment, your eyes flutter open and search wildly before landing on his, wide and frozen in his horror.

“The baby.” You say once more, in explanation and confession. And then your eyes roll back into your skull and you turn limp in Tengen’s trembling arms.

[merrygay]

“Lovely”

Alastor x reader

Warning : NSFW, Dacryphilia, Dark Themes, cannibalism, Alastor is a Warning himself. English is not my first language. I’m bad at writing synopsis. I’m bad at writing in general in fact.

Synopsis : Alastor's obsession towards innocent reader intensifies until he is unable to control himself anymore.

Other : Alastor x reader

————————————————————————

Alastor is someone who is in complete control of himself and who needs to be in control. He can be impulsive, but it’s really because he chooses to. Not a lot of people can get under his skin like he does to them.

And then there is you, innocent you, who really defies all of his principles; it’s like you are doing it on purpose; he doesn’t understand how someone as insignificant as you can have so much effect on him.

That’s why he treats you so harshly; his smile will get wider as he makes fun of your innocent self for trying to survive in hell and failing miserably at it.

But each day passes, and it gets harder and harder for him to keep himself in check.

His staring gets longer, his eyes glow more often than not, looking at your body hungrily, you don’t even realize the state of hunger you’re putting him through.

Oh, how he just wants to take you right here and there without a second thought, backing you against the nearest wall, his tall form towering over yours, preventing you from any possibility of escape.

Then he'd hush your cries while biting your neck until you bled, lick it and do it all over again. Eventually, he'd stop to watch his work.

But when he sees your pretty face, crying and whimpering in pain, imploring him to stop with that sweet voice of yours, his last string of self-control just ends right there.

Before you know it, you're lying on the table right next to you, his head between your thighs, eating you out like a starving man while you moan and beg him to stop, but he can't, and he won't; it's that or eat you for dinner he declares.

He's amused by your state, somewhere between pleasure and horror; you say nothing, and he takes it as if you are agreeing with him.

His eyes soften in contrast to his grin.

“Lovely”, he simply says in a deep voice that can be heard through the radio filter, before settling back between your thighs, never ceasing to lick and suck every part of your pussy until you finally cum on his mouth, and his hunger grows even more as a result. Your pleas and moans just drive him more insane.

He completely lost control at this point. His claws digs into the flesh of your thighs as he fucks you with his tongue, sucking your button harder each time. His antlers increased in size as he grows taller, turning almost completely into his demon form.

He doesn't want it to be over, not yet. If he could spend an eternity between your thighs, he fucking would. He can't stop himself from making you come again and again, swallowing your juices, making nothing but a mess of you.

He doesn’t stop until you finally pass out, and even then, it took a lot of restraint for him not to continue.

You woke up in your bed, confused as to why you were in your room—weren't you just downstairs-

“Feeling better my dear ?”

You heard the familiar radio like voice. Alastor was sitting on the sofa, right across from your bed, with that same mocking grin that never leaves his face.

He has so many plans for you now.

[eddieandbird]

How Romantic—

You’re Corroded Coffin’s tour manager and you wake up realizing you drunkenly got married to Eddie the night before.

Part 2 | Part 3

tags/warnings: fluff | 2.7k words | f!reader | rockstar!Eddie | alcohol ment

———

Nothing seemed too out of the ordinary when you opened your eyes this morning. Your head was pounding, but you expected that after Corroded Coffin’s first show in Las Vegas. You went to rub the sleep out from your eyes but you winced in pain as you felt a small object scratch the corner of your eye.

“Ow! What the hell?” You hissed. You sat up and flicked on the bedside lamp.

A diamond ring sat on the third knuckle of your left hand, the sight causing you to flinch like it were a spider crawling up your leg.

“Eddie?” You shoved your sleeping client beside you. “Eddie, I think we did something really stupid last night,”

“What? Of course, we did! We’re rockstars, idiot,” He grumbled, rolling his shoulders to shake off your hand.

He attempted to roll over and fall back asleep, but this wasn’t a situation you could press the snooze button on. In a panic you pulled him up by his long hair, forcing him to sit up beside you.

“Hey!—“

“Eddie, shut up,” You said sternly, interrupting his whining. “Let me see your hands,”

You fumbled around to get a hold of them, light scratches exchanged between the both of you as you slapped each other like bickering children. Somehow you were able to catch his wrist, bringing his left hand closer to the light.

As you feared, he wore a gold band on his ring finger, with white diamonds that glistened, mocking you.

“Holy shit, no, no, no-” You cursed under your breath when you wanted to scream, but the ever-present headache prevented you from raising your voice.

Eddie flinched as you tugged at him, then chuckled when he caught the sight of his own ring.

“Looks like we got a matching set,” He said casually.

His expression didn’t change, leaving you utterly dumbfounded. You could tell he was not understanding the gravity of the situation at all.

“A matching set?— Eddie this isn’t some cute friendship bracelet thing!” You shook your head then forced his hand closer to his face like it could get him to understand.

Eddie wasn’t stupid by any means, but boy did he struggle to get the point sometimes. You knew to cut him some slack considering he was hungover just like you. However, you didn’t think you had to spell this all out for him.

Another moment passed before his eyes opened up fully. “Oh… OH!” He exclaimed.

“Yeah, oh,” You sighed, relieved and irritated.

He studied his hand for a moment, tilting it in the light as he observed the jewels embedded into the gold.

“Oh wow, this is-” He mumbled to himself, his voice getting lost in a trail of thoughts.

He then went silent for a moment before suddenly grabbing your hand harshly, and yanking it into the light. “I bet yours is nicer, let me see,” He grumbled, his tone sounding almost jealous. It did nothing but work you up even more. You were unfortunately going to have to spell it out for him.

You flailed out of bed, ripping off the robe that hung on the lampshade, and covered yourself. The bewildered glare you gave Eddie only caused him to look more confused. You sighed and rubbed your aching head.

“I can’t believe I’m even explaining this to you right now,” You mumbled to yourself. You put your hands together and pointed the form at him. “Eddie, I think we got married last night,”

You hoped and prayed he would give you a different look, one that didn’t make you believe he didn’t even know his own name.

“You think? Or you know?” He countered, raising his eyebrows at you. “These rings could mean nothing, we just have to make sure,”

His expression was far more casual than it should’ve been. You didn’t know how much longer you would be able to stay patient, he was making your blood boil. He was treating this as if you were scolding him for showing up late to the gig.

As much as you wanted him to prove your theory wrong, you feared it wasn’t likely. Your eyes scanned the trashed hotel room for any other sign. To your dismay, there was a white dress tossed to the side of the bathroom. Disgust and regret painted your face as you lifted it. It was covered in red wine and smelled even worse.

“I think I found my wedding dress,” You gagged, holding it up to show Eddie.

You groaned as you just as quickly threw it back down on the floor.

Eddie’s smile wavered as he saw the state of your wedding dress. He suddenly looked nauseous as he observed the wine stains and messy wrinkles.

“We must’ve been super wasted last night,” He thought back to the night before, his mind desperately trying to recall any other details. “I can’t remember a damn thing after the first hour or so,” He said, running a hand through his messy hair.

“Yeah, no kidding,”

You examined the dress again from where you stood and bits and pieces of last night suddenly came back to you. The cheap rhinestones on it formed a pattern that haunted you.

The sight took you back to when Eddie and you stumbled downtown, giggling as you tried to keep each other upright. With one arm wrapped around your waist to keep you steady, he used the other to point out the ridiculously lit chapel you were passing by. A window peered into a showroom with a plethora of wedding dresses.

You let out a low whistle with your finger pointed at the glass. “Jeez what a dress, huh? Have you ever seen anything more gaudy?” You elbowed Eddie in the chest playfully.

You were too amused to see that he hardly gave that stupid dress more than one glance. He was too captivated by the way you looked underneath the twinkling lights.

“I dunno. I bet you’d make it look good,” Eddie slurred back, raising his eyebrows to fight his half-lidded eyes. His sudden suggestive tone took you aback. He was always crass and liked to push buttons, but never had he been this forward with you. You felt a strange flutter in the pit of your stomach that you had every intention of ignoring.

“Alright, buddy, I gotta get you back to the hotel. You’re too far gone if you’re imagining your manager in a wedding dress,” You hiccupped, trying to pry Eddie away from the chapel windows, but he was sturdy like a wall. You yelped as he pulled you by the wrist back into him.

“I think you should go in and try it on,” He whispered, his lips grazing your ear.

Shivers went down your spine, traveling down your body and convincing you it was a good idea. The sloshing liquor in your gut and the rasp of his voice was a dangerous combination. It created a switch inside your head that drained you of your professionalism, leaving only traits that would make you the woman of Eddie’s dreams. This included the boldness to slip your hand into his and say “Aw… Fuck it, why not? Let’s see how stupid it looks,”

Eddie hastily led you into the chapel, walking through the doorway and into the showroom full of gowns. The two of you were greeted by a bored employee who couldn’t look less interested in her job, but somehow had the energy to sneer at the both of you. You only took it as a sign that you should try on the stupid dress if only to spite that miserable lady at the front desk.

Just as you were joking about before, you took the gown that sat in the window and brought it with you to the fitting room. It was way too ornate and flashy for your taste, but you had the itch to try it on to humor Eddie’s curiosity. One outfit change later and you came out, propped up against the doorframe with a hand on your hip. Despite your slightly pained expression, you glittered beautifully in the dress.

“Okay I’m pretty sure this thing is a size too small because I can hardly breathe, but here it is. Happy now, Munson?” You gave an ironic smile.

You expected Eddie to laugh along with you, maybe even make a few digs at how awful the get-up was, but he didn’t. Instead, he stared at you slack-jawed. You had brought an entire galaxy to his hazy eyes. His pupils dilated with desire as he took a few sudden strides toward you.

“There is no way you’re actually making that dress look good,” He muttered in disbelief, pawing at your hips.

Eddie dragged his fingertips along your jawline, gently pushing your hair behind the shoulders. He took a step back to admire the skin around your neck that he just exposed. Your silhouette was being squeezed into the fabric and hardly left anything to the imagination. There was really no stopping Eddie now. With an uncoordinated tug, your body was pressed to his.

“What are you doing?” You asked him like he was a toddler getting caught stealing sweets from the kitchen. Delirious giggles rang out of you as half-heartedly pushed him.

“Taking my bride to the altar, duh,” Eddie leaned in, his lips tickling the nape of your neck. He spoke in that false innocent tone that you knew was laced with devious intentions. Your eyes fluttered closed at the feeling of his feather-like touches.

“You’re gonna marry me, right, princess?” His silky voice was incredibly inviting in the state you were in.

“I um- well m-” You stuttered. You could hardly stand straight, let alone answer his question properly. “Yeah?”

“Mhm, that’s what I thought. C’mon, sweetheart, you’re mine now,” He triumphantly laughed.

The receptionist’s eyes widened in complete shock as Eddie suddenly picked you up off the floor. He began walking back out the door, carrying you like a damsel in distress. Your giggling, mixed with the employee’s confused protesting was the only noise heard through the room.

Eddie barreled down the aisle of the chapel. He laughed with misplaced enthusiasm as you both stumbled closer and closer toward the pastor waiting at the end of the aisle.

You couldn’t bear to remember anything beyond that. A full-body shiver came over you as you snapped out of the memory of the night before. You couldn’t hear anything for a moment over the pounding of your heart in your ears. Your mind couldn’t wrap around Eddie and you sharing a moment so intimate and unfortunately so permanent.

“Oh, right… that’s what happened,” His voice pulled your attention back to him.

As he laid his eyes upon the dress, it repeated the events to him in his mind. He was tempted to brag about how steady he kept you in his arms even while he wasted, but he bit his tongue, knowing you’d probably snap at him again.

As the realization hit Eddie, he felt overwhelmed with emotion. Part of him couldn’t believe that the both of him had gotten married so recklessly, but another part felt a strange fluttering in his chest.

“Yeah, how romantic,” You groaned, limping to the bathroom to splash cold water on your face.

Eddie followed after you, leaning against the bathroom door frame.

“You um- You’re not thinking of breaking all this off right?” he asked timidly.

As if this morning couldn’t get any more insane, of course, he had to ask you that. You shot a glare in the mirror reflection for a moment before whipping around with your arms folded.

“Munson… What the hell are you saying?” Although the message was harsh, your tone had no bite to it. You sounded much more confused than upset at this moment. You didn’t want to believe that he was genuinely considering remaining married to you.

“Hear me out,” He set his hands out, gesturing you to stop whatever angry rant you wished to go on. “Maybe this doesn’t have to be the worst thing that could happen to us,”

“What do you mean?”

“I doubt that we weren’t spotted in that chapel. If we’re lucky we have until the afternoon before we see headlines about Corroded Coffin’s main guitarist and his manager getting hitched in Vegas,” He scrunched his nose and shook a hand through his tangled hair.

There goes your deer-in-headlights look again. “God, I really am an idiot! How did I not think of that? I-”

Eddie pressed a finger to your lips, promptly shutting you up. “Yeah, yeah, you’re the tortured manager of our band, we get it. But hey, just stay with me,” He dismissed your spiral before it could even happen. He swept you up similar to how he did last night, but this time to sit you down on the bathroom counter.

“What if we just stayed married for a little while?” He pursed his lips and shrugged. “Think about it. All that press Corroded Coffin would get over something like this. We’d be a household name! It’s kind of genius,” With his hands caging you into your spot on the counter, he smiled proudly at you as he explained what he had in mind.

He could see your mind racing behind your eyes, clearly contemplating the logistics of getting media attention out of this. He leaned closer to you, keeping you to the counter. He placed his hands on either side of your thighs.

“I know you hate the attention,” He continued softly, looking at you with puppy dog eyes. “But this is a good idea. We have to capitalize on our screw-up... For the band of course.”

A choked exhale escaped you before you set your head in your hands for a moment. Your mind drew up a montage of all the disapproving faces you’d have to explain this to, all the uncomfortable interviews you’d have to speak in, and all the death threats made by Corroded Coffin’s fans to you.

“Do I really have a choice in all this?” You mumbled through the spaces in between your fingers.

Eddie flashed a wry smile. “I guess not,” he teasingly held up his ring finger as if he was flipping you off. “Bottom line, when we walk out of this hotel, we are officially husband and wife. And I don’t know about you, but I don’t want this to make the rest of the tour miserable. So you can either mope around the bus for the next two months and have more rumors spread in your absence, or you can hold your head up high and make a spectacle of our marriage for the sake of the band,”

Eddie’s grin grew wider as he saw the exhaustion creeping onto your face. He knew exactly how much you hated the attention, but he also knew that you cared just as much about the success of Corroded Coffin. He leaned closer to you, his body now almost completely pressed against yours.

“I don’t like either of those options, just throw me off the balcony and be done with it,” You dramatically huffed and smacked your head on his shoulder. He snorted at your reaction.

“Oh come on, sweetheart,” he taunted, his fingers gripping your thighs in a tight but affectionate grip. “Where’s that infamous strength of yours, huh? What happened to the badass manager that keeps us in line?”

You gave him the weakest glare you had yet. He was right about one thing: you cared about Corroded Coffin more than anything else. It was time to step up and do what you had to for them, for Eddie.

“Alright!” You blurted out. “Fine, let’s do this, but as soon as tour is over, we get a quiet divorce and we move on like nothing ever happened,”

“Yeah, totally, for sure,” Eddie nodded his head half-convincingly, then lightly smacked your leg with approval. He was beaming, looking forward to all the fun he was about to have with you. “Alright, get all dolled up for brunch, I’m starving. It’s time for your grand debut, Mrs. Munson,”

“Hey, I never agreed on changing my name!” you whined, pushing Eddie off of you to get down from the counter.

Eddie chuckled as you suddenly stood up from the counter.

“Well get used to it, because I’m going to keep calling you that,” he teased. “You’re officially stuck with me now, Mrs. Munson,”

[certifiedlovergirlsstuff]

mixed-matched socks | s.r. x pregnant!fem reader

“look out! laundry downpour, ahhh!” you indoor screamed as you slowly dumped the freshly dried clothing over a lying annabeth. her high pitched screeching bursted your eardrums, but were quickly muffled by a shirt and jacket. her little fingers and toes wiggling like worms in her clothing dirt.

“how’s it feel?” spencer asked as he plucked her baby face free of cotton. her smile, that spencer insisted was yours, pushes her cheeks into her eyes causing them to disappear. “like a group cuddle,” she practically sighed in content.

grabbing a random top, one of annabeth’s cartoon kittens tees, you got to work separating the fabrics. “miss bethie, could you look for anyone of your clothes and place them here. this is your pile responsibility.”

“okie dokie,” and she crawled through spencer’s button ups and some of your summer dresses, holding each new piece of clothing in the air, declaring victory before dropping it to her pile. you and spencer worked through and over her to make your own piles, spencer would iron his clothes and you would steam yours.

“all…done!” she gave a bounce to the bed causing her to wobble and both of you quickly shooting your arms out to prevent any accidents. “careful baby,” spencer gently chided. “let’s cross cross apple sauce,” lightly tapping her calf. she plopped her little body down, her pile tipping to the side.

“let’s do some folding. do you know how we fold?” spencer asked annabeth while you started to work on steaming your clothes. “i only see, not do.” her palms patted her knees.

“that’s okay, its real easy.” spencer grabbed one of his sleep shirts for a demonstration. “just hold it up like this, then push the sides in like this then fold. all done.”

you looked over to see annabeth holding a pastel blue top up, her fingers pinching the shoulders as she stared it down. spencer’s larger hands atop hers to guide her through the simple formation, he helped with a few more then she did one all on her own.

“easy peasy, lemon squeezy.” she hummed to herself.

“wanna fold daddy’s socks? he likes when you mix-match them.” wanting her to do another task to keep her occupied and get the chores done quickly.

she looked to spencer, matching brown eyes gleaming into each other, “can i?” asking excitedly. spencer kissed the top of her head, “of course, sweetie. makes my work day brighter.”

annabeth is used to doing the socks, the action simple for her tiny chubby hands. it was her first task once she started to join both of you on this glorious adult chore, always a soft hum under her breath.

it made you look back from before she was around, you doing this alone in your family home with music blaring in headphones, to then sharing a space with spencer and being a bit cautious of crossing a certain line with your knowledge of his germophobia. then one day a shirt got mixed with his wash then a loose sock with yours, then you both were just sitting in the living room watching reruns of doctor who with spencer mindlessly spewed out facts. when you got pregnant spencer would do the lifting of the baskets and you would lay back in your bed going at a slow pace with spencer beside you as he took folded pieces and put them away so you didn’t have to get up a million times.

now it’s the three of you working together with a three month bump barely showing under your lifted tee. something so simple and mundane when you were a teenager that was a tiring chore now shifted into family bonding time, seeing your husband and daughter talk quietly as she held up a pair of dark blue and neon orange socks giggling as she balled them together.

laundry day has become one of your favorite chore days.

-

a/n: inspired by @beansarecooler for an idea they left on a post.

[evilminji]

You know what would be funny?

If the downfall of the GIW and other anti-Ecto acts and organizations? Came about because of some long dead scholars pathological need to Be Right.

How? Would this work, you may ask? Oh, easily!

WIKIPEDIA.

Somebody is WRONG about FACTS. And that can not stand! You see, they were told... well, more OVERHEARD then anything else (during their annual and ongoing debate about EVERYTHING) from that...? Techmus? Fellow? Whomever he was.

They HEARD, there has been a MARVELOUS advancement in the realm of the Living! A collective knowledge repository! Imagine the possibilities! They must see it at ONCE!

So they harrass Danny about it. Obviously.

He finally caves. And, to prevent them going Wrath Of The Old Academic or something, shows them JUST technical papers sites and Wikipedia etc. That should fix things, right? They should be HAPPY, now, RIGHT?

WRONG.

These so called "Facts" are INCORRECT! I was THERE! We did not do THAT! Slander! Outrage! I shall BURN THEIR HOUSE DOW-!

Ooooookay, hold up! OR? We could EDIT the page? See that button? Push that.

They blink. Push up their spectacles. Squint at the screens more closely. Ah. So there IS! Their mistake! How silly, quite embarrassing. Now then... *furiously begins typing*

And? You obviously can just? Make random edits. Even if you seem to be correct. ESPECIALLY with out any sources. And no one will accept "I was There" as a source. We are discussing Pompeii. And a spcertain historically significant volcanic incident. NO YOU WERE NOT.

Yet? No matter HOW had the moderators try? They for some reason can not BLOCK this deluge of edits. It's unending. And not even a united front. As they edit each other's edits.

AND on top of THAT? Random papers are showing up in official journals. Ones that were NOT put there by the journal's staff. About alchemy or frogs or rebuttals to people no one has even HEARD off.

Obviously, it's? Kind of a Big Thing in the scientific and academic community. Everyone is talking about it and confused. Every Hero with a scientific job. Oracle, with her job at a LIBRARY. Anyone connected to them they ask to look into this. It keeps spreading.

Especially when the hackers FAIL to stop it.

Imagine Danny's horror. Just... IMAGINE it. He goes to bed. The old fogies content to quietly argue and merrily type away, certain he's distracted them. Harmless he thinks. Contained, he believes.

They blow up the internet. Bring the JUSTICE LEAGUE to his city.

He has to explain himself to BATMAN.

He's gonna cry. Stop laughing Tucker, this is absolutely a threat. He is GOING to cry on you. (T^T )

@ailithnight @the-witchhunter @hdgnj @nerdpoe

[nornities]

How to use DXVK with The Sims 3

Have you seen this post about using DXVK by Criisolate? But felt intimidated by the sheer mass of facts and information?

@desiree-uk and I compiled a guide and the configuration file to make your life easier. It focuses on players not using the EA App, but it might work for those just the same. It’s definitely worth a try.

Adding this to your game installation will result in a better RAM usage. So your game is less likely to give you Error 12 or crash due to RAM issues. It does NOT give a huge performance boost, but more stability and allows for higher graphics settings in game.

The full guide behind the cut. Let me know if you also would like it as PDF.

Happy simming!

Disclaimer and Credits

Desiree and I are no tech experts and just wrote down how we did this. Our ability to help if you run into trouble is limited. So use at your own risk and back up your files!

We both are on Windows 10 and start the game via TS3W.exe, not the EA App. So your experience may differ.

This guide is based on our own experiments and of course criisolate’s post on tumblr:  https://www.tumblr.com/criisolate/749374223346286592/ill-explain-what-i-did-below-before-making-any

This guide is brought to you by Desiree-UK and Norn.

Compatibility

Note: This will conflict with other programs that “inject” functionality into your game so they may stop working. Notably

Reshade

GShade

Nvidia Experience/Nvidia Inspector/Nvidia Shaders

RivaTuner Statistics Server

It does work seamlessly with LazyDuchess’ Smooth Patch.

LazyDuchess’ Launcher: unknown

Alder Lake patch: does conflict. One user got it working by starting the game by launching TS3.exe (also with admin rights) instead of TS3W.exe. This seemed to create the cache file for DXVK. After that, the game could be started from TS3W.exe again. That might not work for everyone though.

A word on FPS and V-Sync

With such an old game it’s crucial to cap framerate (FPS). This is done in the DXVK.conf file. Same with V-Sync.

You need

a text editor (easiest to use is Windows Notepad)

to download DXVK, version 2.3.1 from here: https://github.com/doitsujin/DXVK/releases/tag/v2.3.1 Extract the archive, you are going to need the file d3d9.dll from the x32 folder

the configuration file DXVK.conf from here: https://github.com/doitsujin/DXVK/blob/master/DXVK.conf. Optional: download the edited version with the required changes here.

administrator rights on your PC

to know your game’s installation path (bin folder) and where to find the user folder

a tiny bit of patience :)

First Step: Backup

Backup your original Bin folder in your Sims 3 installation path! The DXVK file may overwrite some files! The path should be something like this (for retail): \Program Files (x86)\Electronic Arts\The Sims 3\Game\Bin (This is the folder where also GraphicsRule.sgr and the TS3W.exe and TS3.exe are located.)

Backup your options.ini in your game’s user folder! Making the game use the DXVK file will count as a change in GPU driver, so the options.ini will reset once you start your game after installation. The path should be something like this: \Documents\Electronic Arts\The Sims 3 (This is the folder where your Mods folder is located).

Preparations

Make sure you run the game as administrator. You can check that by right-clicking on the icon that starts your game. Go to Properties > Advanced and check the box “Run as administrator”. Note: This will result in a prompt each time you start your game, if you want to allow this application to make modifications to your system. Click “Yes” and the game will load.

2. Make sure you have the DEP settings from Windows applied to your game.

Open the Windows Control Panel.

Click System and Security > System > Advanced System Settings.

On the Advanced tab, next to the Performance heading, click Settings.

Click the Data Execution Prevention tab.

Select 'Turn on DEP for all programs and services except these”:

Click the Add button, a window to the file explorer opens. Navigate to your Sims 3 installation folder (the bin folder once again) and add TS3W.exe and TS3.exe.

Click OK. Then you can close all those dialog windows again.

Setting up the DXVK.conf file

Open the file with a text editor and delete everything in it. Then add these values:

d3d9.textureMemory = 1

d3d9.presentInterval = 1

d3d9.maxFrameRate = 60

d3d9.presentInterval enables V-Sync,d3d9.maxFrameRate sets the FrameRate. You can edit those values, but never change the first line (d3d9.textureMemory)!

The original DXVK.conf contains many more options in case you would like to add more settings.

A. no Reshade/GShade

Setting up DXVK

Copy the two files d3d9.dll and DXVK.conf into the Bin folder in your Sims 3 installation path. This is the folder where also GraphicsRule.sgr and the TS3W.exe and TS3.exe are located. If you are prompted to overwrite files, please choose yes (you DID backup your folder, right?)

And that’s basically all that is required to install.

Start your game now and let it run for a short while. Click around, open Buy mode or CAS, move the camera.

Now quit without saving. Once the game is closed fully, open your bin folder again and double check if a file “TS3W.DXVK-cache” was generated. If so – congrats! All done!

Things to note

Heads up, the game options will reset! So it will give you a “vanilla” start screen and options.

Don’t worry if the game seems to be frozen during loading. It may take a few minutes longer to load but it will load eventually.

The TS3W.DXVK-cache file is the actual cache DXVK is using. So don’t delete this! Just ignore it and leave it alone. When someone tells to clear cache files – this is not one of them!

Update Options.ini

Go to your user folder and open the options.ini file with a text editor like Notepad.

Find the line “lastdevice = “. It will have several values, separated by semicolons. Copy the last one, after the last semicolon, the digits only. Close the file.

Now go to your backup version of the Options.ini file, open it and find that line “lastdevice” again. Replace the last value with the one you just copied. Make sure to only replace those digits!

Save and close the file.

Copy this version of the file into your user folder, replacing the one that is there.

Things to note:

If your GPU driver is updated, you might have to do these steps again as it might reset your device ID again. Though it seems that the DXVK ID overrides the GPU ID, so it might not happen.

How do I know it’s working?

Open the task manager and look at RAM usage. Remember the game can only use 4 GB of RAM at maximum and starts crashing when usage goes up to somewhere between 3.2 – 3.8 GB (it’s a bit different for everybody).

So if you see values like 2.1456 for RAM usage in a large world and an ongoing save, it’s working. Generally the lower the value, the better for stability.

Also, DXVK will have generated its cache file called TS3W.DXVK-cache in the bin folder. The file size will grow with time as DXVK is adding stuff to it, e.g. from different worlds or savegames. Initially it might be something like 46 KB or 58 KB, so it’s really small.

Optional: changing MemCacheBudgetValue

MemCacheBudgetValue determines the size of the game's VRAM Cache. You can edit those values but the difference might not be noticeable in game. It also depends on your computer’s hardware how much you can allow here.

The two lines of seti MemCacheBudgetValue correspond to the high RAM level and low RAM level situations. Therefore, theoretically, the first line MemCacheBudgetValue should be set to a larger value, while the second line should be set to a value less than or equal to the first line.

The original values represent 200MB (209715200) and 160MB (167772160) respectively. They are calculated as 200x1024x1024=209175200 and 160x1024x1024=167772160.

Back up your GraphicsRules.sgr file! If you make a mistake here, your game won’t work anymore.

Go to your bin folder and open your GraphicsRules.sgr with a text editor.

Search and find two lines that set the variables for MemCacheBudgetValue.

Modify these two values to larger numbers. Make sure the value in the first line is higher or equals the value in the second line. Examples for values: 1073741824, which means 1GB 2147483648 which means 2 GB. -1 (minus 1) means no limit (but is highly experimental, use at own risk)

Save and close the file. It might prompt you to save the file to a different place and not allow you to save in the Bin folder. Just save it someplace else in this case and copy/paste it to the Bin folder afterwards. If asked to overwrite the existing file, click yes.

Now start your game and see if it makes a difference in smoothness or texture loading. Make sure to check RAM and VRAM usage to see how it works.

You might need to change the values back and forth to find the “sweet spot” for your game. Mine seems to work best with setting the first value to 2147483648 and the second to 1073741824.

Uninstallation

Delete these files from your bin folder (installation path):

d3d9.dll

DXVK.conf

TS3W.DXVK-cache

And if you have it, also TS3W_d3d9.log

if you changed the values in your GraphicsRule.sgr file, too, don’t forget to change them back or to replace the file with your backed up version.

OR

delete the bin folder and add it from your backup again.

B. with Reshade/GShade

Follow the steps from part A. no Reshade/Gshade to set up DXVK.

If you are already using Reshade (RS) or GShade (GS), you will be prompted to overwrite files, so choose YES. RS and GS may stop working, so you will need to reinstall them.

Whatever version you are using, the interface shows similar options of which API you can choose from (these screenshots are from the latest versions of RS and GS).

Please note: 

Each time you install and uninstall DXVK, switching the game between Vulkan and d3d9, is essentially changing the graphics card ID again, which results in the settings in your options.ini file being repeatedly reset.

ReShade interface

Choose – Vulcan

Click next and choose your preferred shaders.

Hopefully this install method works and it won't install its own d3d9.dll file.

If it doesn't work, then choose DirectX9 in RS, but you must make sure to replace the d3d9.dll file with DXVK's d3d9.dll (the one from its 32bit folder, checking its size is 3.86mb.)

GShade interface

Choose –           

Executable Architecture: 32bit

Graphics API: DXVK

Hooking: Normal Mode

GShade is very problematic, it won't work straight out of the box and the overlay doesn't show up, which defeats the purpose of using it if you can't add or edit the shaders you want to use.

Check the game's bin folder, making sure the d3d9.dll is still there and its size is 3.86mb - that is DXVK's dll file.

If installing using the DXVK method doesn't work, you can choose the DirectX method, but there is no guarantee it works either.

The game will not run with these files in the folder:

d3d10core.dll

d3d11.dll

dxgi.dll

If you delete them, the game will start but you can't access GShade! It might be better to use ReShade.

Some Vulcan and DirectX information, if you’re interested:

Vulcan is for rather high end graphic cards but is backward compatible with some older cards. Try this method with ReShade or GShade first.

DirectX is more stable and works best with older cards and systems. Try this method if Vulcan doesn't work with ReShade/GShade in your game – remember to replace the d3d9.dll with DXVK's d3d9.dll.

For more information on the difference between Vulcan and DirectX, see this article:

https://www.howtogeek.com/884042/vulkan-vs-DirectX-12/

[mixingpumpkins]

Man, we really lost when we decided that the best way to feel safe or to try to prevent bad things from happening is to assume malicious intent from everyone and police every little fucking thing about existing.

Want to go shopping? You'll be treated like a thief. Security cameras, anti-theft sensors by the door, and a staff that may or may not follow you around isn't enough; we're also putting security tags on every single piece of $4 underwear in the bargain bin and keeping everything on the shelves under lock and key, so you can't even look at it without staff assistance/supervision. No, cameras and staff monitoring checkouts isn't enough. We also need someone else searching your bags and verifying your receipts at the door. (And god help you if a security sensor somewhere didn't get deactivated properly and the door alarm goes off.)

Are you a student taking an exam? We've already decided you're a cheater. Of course you are — all students cheat. So you get assigned, spaced out seats in the testing room, surrounded by cameras. Show us your photo ID at the door. Nothing goes in the room with you but your pencil. Leave your phone, wallet, water, and anything else in a locker outside. All your jewelry, too. No long sleeves. Let us check your hair/headbands/pockets/ears/religious garb in case you're smuggling something in. Need to leave for the restroom? No, you don't, or your exam is done. Emergency? You can choose between literally shitting yourself or failing your course and risking expulsion for cheating.

Online exam? Prepare to be subject to literal spyware. Your eyes better not waver a fraction out of the "acceptable" gaze window. Don't press any button you're not supposed to or mis-click anything; that's proof you're trying to cheat. Don't even think about shifting in your seat, even if your test is two hours long.

Do you work? It'd better be at top speed and no errors at all times. We have security cameras trained on you every moment, sensitive enough to read the text of any paper you handle. We're tracking exactly what you do and how fast. Did your metrics slip for even a second? Unacceptable, even if your rate is otherwise within our "acceptable" range, because we know you can work faster. Yawn? How dare you — we don't pay you to be tired. You're not working hard enough. You must not have enough to do — your requirements have now tripled and we've cut your pay as an incentive not to waste time again. Make a mistake? You must have done it on purpose. You must be trying to steal or sabotage. We'll be evaluating to see how quickly we can fire you and if we can press charges or sue you for damages.

Need to travel via plane? It doesn't matter if you're paying through the nose to do so; you're clearly a criminal who's only not committing a crime at this very moment because you're outnumbered by security officers. We need to question you excessively if you don't look exactly like your ID picture taken three years ago. Take off half your clothes and walk through our scanners that will basically show you without them. (Then prepare to be wanded, and possibly groped — maybe even by more than one person — and if we really feel like it, taken to another room to be stripped and questioned further.) You can't take some necessities with you. Your belongings will be x-rayed and pawed through and commented upon, and they're maybe even a reason to detain and question you further. Why does your purse have suspicious organic matter in it? No, that can't possibly be a bag of fruit snacks you bought from the kiosk 20 feet away; you're trying to hide explosives.

Need medication? You're lying. You're faking. You're just trying to get drugs. You're an addict. You're a dealer. No, you don't have a condition that really requires medication; if you just slept more/lost weight/did yoga/were a better person, you wouldn't have to feel like you need to use drugs. We don't care if your doctor says you need this medication — your insurance company says you don't. Oh, you can afford it anyway? At that price? You must be reselling. We need to investigate and put notes on your file.

Communicating via message? God forbid you take even a fraction of a second too long to respond. You must be trying to hide something. You're slacking off your work. You must be cheating on your partner. You must have a problem with the sender and are leaving them out of something. You left them on read; you're being a bitch. You edited a response or took too long to type something — you're actually being mean and manipulative by not just saying what was on your mind first. Company policy is we get to see everything on your devices. You shouldn't have a problem sharing your personal location/passwords/etc. with your partner if you're not up to no good.

Want to simply exist where a stranger might see you? That's suspicious. What are you doing out here? We don't recognize you. You must be stealing. You must be casing the houses or stores in this neighborhood. You must be looking for someone to rob/assault/harass/etc. You must be part of that rabble claiming they're protesting to cover up the nuisances and criminals they are. Why did you hold a door for me — are you trying to get behind me? Why have I seen you more than once while I'm shopping here — are you following me? Why did you smile at me — do you have a problem? Why are you walking down the street? Why are you sitting on a bench? Why are you visiting the library? Why are you eating alone at the cafe? You don't look like you belong here. You look like a creep. You need the police to come handle you. (If they use force, that just shows you were up to something and totally deserve it.)

Want to exist online? We need to know everything about you — your real name, address, email, age — to ensure you're not a criminal. But you're probably also lying. We need to spy on everything you do, too: every site you visit (and how long you spend there), every purchase you make, every message you send, every search you do. We will take everything you say in bad faith, so be careful about what you post. But it's also extremely suspicious if you don't post — who doesn't have an extensive social media presence these days? What are you trying to hide? You need to indicate that you think the right way. You aren't posting about this — you must not care; you must be a bad person. You deleted an old post — you must be trying to hide your awful views. You can't possibly just be removing things from your profile that no longer reflect who you are. You posted something that I don't like — I knew there was something off about you. It's not a leap to think you're also into worse things. You're probably a pervert. You're actually a criminal of the worst sort and this is an early warning sign for those of us who are smart enough to see it. We're only accusing you of these things NOW so you don't have an opportunity to do them.

Didn't you know? You need to be constantly watched and humiliated and inconvenienced and sometimes even attacked because that's the only thing standing in the way of bad things happening. If you find all this demeaning, there's something wrong with you. Only criminals would rather trade this for being less safe. You don't want us to go from thinking you're a criminal to knowing you're a criminal, do you?

...

Like, fuck. Aren't you tired of living like this???

Some of this stuff has been around for a long time, and it obviously isn't applied evenly across all demographics. But a lot of it has also gotten exponentially worse within the past few decades. Please don't ever accept any of this as normal or necessary or good, because it's not. I'm going insane watching people shrugging off the increasing infantilization and dehumanization of everyone just because this is all they can remember.

It doesn't have to be this way. Don't ever take this shit as a given — it wasn't that long ago that some of this would have been unthinkable. And the instant someone starts talking about doing things a certain way/supporting certain things because of "safety" or "security," be very careful about blindly agreeing with them. We lose very real, important things in pursuit of the nebulous concept of "safety."

[writingduhh]

Chuckle Sammy || Falling Asleep In His Lap (HC)

(In this HC you fall asleep on their lap at a party / get together)

Leave me some detailed or vague fic requests or HC ideas plz I’m all out and I need some inspiration 😭😭😭

❥ Jschlatt:

▷ The second he notices you’re asleep he goes protection mode.

▷ He won't allow anyone within a 5-foot radius of you, fearing that their presence might wake you.

▷ He knows how hard you’ve been working lately and insists that you catch up on sleep, even if it’s at a party.

▷  Whenever someone close to you makes an obnoxiously loud noise, he'll respond with a stern glare and a finger to his lips.

▷ He tenderly traces soothing shapes on your back or arms with his fingertips.

▷ Definitely takes this opportunity to take some silly pictures. Using Snapchat filters or just terrible angles and lighting

▷ He will take some wholesome pictures too, of course. Spamming his snapchat story with your face.

▷ As the night progresses, and people get louder he makes the call to head home.

▷ He doesn't bother waking you up; instead, he simply scoops you up in his arms, carefully carrying you out to the car.

▷ On the drive home, he ensures the car stays at the perfect temperature, keeps the music volume low, and skillfully navigates around any potholes.

▷ Once home he takes it upon himself to get you ready and into bed.

Once home, he takes it upon himself to get you ready for bed. Carrying you inside from the car, he softly lays you down on your shared bed, while he rummages around the closet to find one of his hoodies for you to wear. Gently he’ll change you out of your party outfit and into his oversized hoodie, possibly waking you up in the process.

“Hm? Where are we?” You mumble very confused by the chnage in surroundings.

“Shh we’re home now toots, let’s finish getting you ready for bed.”

You easily complied as he instructed you to lift your arms, then he pulled his hoodie over you.

"There we go," he says, his voice now deeper as he too was growing tired.

Together you both cuddled up together in your bed, falling asleep nearly instantly.

❥ Ted:

▷ Once he realizes you’re asleep he goes full mom mode.

▷ He'll take care to delicately adjust you, making sure you’re comfortable and preventing you from waking up sore.

▷ Looks around for a blanket. If he can’t find one he’ll use the jacket/button up off his own back to keep you warm.

▷ I can see him being the type to still mingling around at the party as you sleep on the couch but he’s never more than a few feet away from you, constantly looking over and checking in

▷ If he's not up and mingling with other partygoers, he's right by your side, talking casually to those closest to him, running his hands through your hair, and tracing your face as you lay on his legs.

▷ As the night winds down and people start to leave, he'll softly wake you, ensuring you're okay and offering a refreshing glass of water.

"Y/n, come on, it's time to go," Ted softly spoke, gently rubbing your shoulder.

"Hmm?" you grumbled, slowly sitting up from where you lay on the couch.

"It's getting late, hun. We should probably get going," he explained, offering you his extended hand.

Slowly, you grabbed his hand and rose to your feet, resting your body against his.

He let out a soft laugh before saying, "Would my tired baby like a piggyback ride?”

You nodded, rubbing your eyes. Swiftly, he bent down, allowing you to climb up onto him before securing your legs with his arms. Sleepily, you laid your head against his shoulder, the subtle movement of his walking occasionally swaying your tired head.

▷ Once to the car he softly places you in the passenger seat, buckling your seatbelt before placing a soft kiss on your forehead.



[liveontelevision]

I beg of u pls more slowburn luci... I'm starved... No one writes him as well as you💔 I'll give you my kidneys 💔

THIS ONES FOR YOU BB

Did it Hurt? Lucifer x Reader

enjoy some quick fluff >:)

♡♡♡

Lucifer always had a habit of losing his temper. It wasn't often, usually when a specific document was giving him a hard time or when he would return from any meeting that took place at Heaven's Embassy. Or, with the relocation of his quarters, whenever a certain radio demon would push his buttons just a bit too much. You've seen it enough times to know when to leave him be and when to step in, but you hated to admit how familiar you became with him in this state.

It was a lot of work keeping up with the hotel after its renovation, and Lucifer did everything in his power to keep the hotel running behind the scenes, so Charlie could focus on her new residents. Being his assistant for so many years, even following him to work at the hotel, you were absolutely delighted to see him so passionate to work, obviously motivated by his rekindled relationship with his daughter. But with the whole redemption premise, it meant a lot more contact with Heaven, and that drained his battery more than anything you've seen.

You hated to compare, but it almost reminded you of his depressive episodes after Lillith disappeared. He walked the halls in a daze, putting on the brightest smile only around the other hotel staff, but you knew him too well to be fooled by his lovely grin.

Throw some drinks into the mix? You'd witness a truly gruesome sight.

It was almost evening when Lucifer realized he actually had caught up to his work and had the chance to enjoy his night. His first thought, no matter how much he'd deny it, was to find you. It was always easier to enjoy his rest and relaxation when you were around. Something about you just left that affect on him. It'd drive him crazy if he thought about it too long.

You found yourself in the newly renovated lobby, still decorated with a bar that exentuated both Lucifer's and Alastor's aesethetic. It was one of the few things they had compromised on.

Lucifer insisted you stop work for the night, but you only agreed after thoroughly skimming over his documents to see if there was anything that would keep him up too long. After finally being swayed, you give him a quick pat on his arm and wished him a good night, assuming he would take the oppurtunity to sleep through his newfound free time.

With a satisifed sigh, you slammed your empty cup on the bar's counter, shouting for another. There was a loud roar of cheers coming from everyone around you as Husk refilled your glass. You lost count after the first hour or so, your head beginning to spin before you could consider the consequences. Soft Jazz music was playing from a small radio, hidden from view, and the entire hotel staff was bustling and chatting as if it wasn't nearly midnight on an average night in Hell.

You had heard something particularly ridiculous from Angel that sent you into a laughing fit. Nearly falling from your barstool, you felt a sturdy hand brace the small of your back. Startled by the sensation, you whip your head around a little too quickly, leaving you dizzy and blinking before focusing in on Alastor keeping you upright.

"Careful, my dear! I enjoy the festivities as much as the next depraved sinner, but we can't have the king's secretary hurting themselves now, can we?" His words seemed rude, but he managed to say them with a charm that prevented you from truly questioning it. It didn't stop you from mumbling under your breath, "i'm not his secretary.. asshole deer demon - " You managed to say it quiet enough that he didn't react, but you did catch his ear twitching and turning torwards you for a second. You quickly resumed some random conversation with Charlie or Vaggie, you couldn't remember its contents if you were asked about it today, but it was better than dealing with the repercussions of insulting the radio demon.

It went back to being chummy and pleasant for a moment before you saw Charlie peering past your shoulder, an excited gasp escaping her lips.

"Dad! Come drink with us!" Charlie leaned back from her barstool, Vaggie bracing her drunken sweetheart from falling flat on her face. You quickly turn, dizzying yourself again, before seeing Lucifer making a hasty decent down the stairs. His hair was freshly quaffed, and he wore a clean white dress shirt, that smelled of a sweet cologne when he walked past you. He had that twinkle in his eyes that would appear whenever he was in Charlie's presence. You loved seeing his eyes that way. They'd shine no matter how heavy the bags under them were.

"Of course, kiddo! Your old man's got the night off if you'd believe it! Pour me a.. uh... something strong!" He puffed his chest out proudly, happy to spend some much needed time around demons in a casual setting. He propped himself against the counter between you and Charlie. When you finally caught up to his words, your eyes widened slightly, giving him a gentle tap on his shoulder. Lucifer turned to look at you, and you caught him speechless for a moment. Your cheeks were red and hot, your eyes dazed and a bit watery from laughing too hard, but still reading concerned for some reason. He's seen you in loungewear before, but you were barely put together in this state. Your hair was sprawled across your shoulders, a few strands blocking your eyes. You wore sweatpants that loosely hung from your waist, revealing your middrift that was visible from underneath your cropped t-shirt that bagged off your shoulders. After snapping back to reality, Lucifer let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding in.

"Yes, yes, dear, here I am. Hope you've been having fun - but not too much! Fun.. Aha... what-what is it, what do you need..?" He stumbled over his words, attempting to be charming but failing miserably. A staticky chuckle responded to his words before you could get out what you wanted to say. "Poetry, your highness. True poetry~" Lucifer hated to look away from you but did so anyway to send a red eyed glare to Alastor, who sat across the bar. He scoffed before scooping his freshly poured drink into his clawed hand and taking a quick swig, slamming it back down. He coughed for a moment, hitting his chest with a balled up fist before sending Husk a teary-eyed thumbs up. "Smooth.. Another..!" He squeaked out. You resorted to taking a soft grip on his forearm after he got too distracted to hear you out before.

"Sir, be careful! We both know you can't hold your liquor.. just - be careful." You spoke in a hushed tone, far closer to his ear than you intended to be, but personal space became foggy in your drunken state. He shivered, feeling your breath against the side of his face, then quickly turned his head up to hide the red creeping across his cheeks. Clearing his throat and picking up his refilled glass, he let out a pompous laugh.

"Thanks for worrying about me, but i'm fine! I'm the king of Hell! I can handle my.. whiskey?" He turned to Husk with a confused look on his face, only to get a confirmation on his drink. He sent a charasmatic smirk in your direction after getting a thumbs up from the bartender. You couldn't help but giggle, covering your mouth to not embarrass him or yourself. He always eased your nerves like this.

What a dork.

You smiled to yourself for a moment before feeling a hand brush the hair that laid across your eyeline out of the way and tucking it away behind your ear. You looked up, fluttering your eyelashes as your eyes focused in on the figure. You turned red seeing Alastor brushing his claws across your hair to keep it away from your face. Without proper judgement, you cringed at the suddenly intimate interaction and jolted away from his clawed hands.

"Now, now, I'm only trying to help! You look an absolute mess, darling." You shrunk at Alastor's words. He still spoke charmingly, but it was clear he had a few drinks as well. You let out a nervous chuckle, running your hands through your own hair and crossing your arms over your exposed middrift.

Lucifer's seen you stick up for yourself before. You were as passionate as he was in that sense. So seeing you almost curled up into a ball at Alastor's words, that were spoken closer to your face than he'd ever want to see, made him growl. "Keep your distant, buddy, maybe you should call it night. If you know what's good for you, that is." Lucifer's confidence only grew with the alcohol finally hitting him. He laid his arm across your shoulder, slightly leaning you away from the demon that towered over the two of you. Alastor found a weakspot and knew exactly what to do with it.

The chatting went on for another hour or two. After Lucifer was calmed down by Charlie and yourself, you all managed to have a decent time until demons started heading back to their rooms one by one. Lucifer was going on a rant about some bullshit documents that Heaven sent and how he'll have to set an appointment to go to the embassy soon, while you propped your head on your hand and only half listened. It wasn't because you were disinterested, you were just coming off your high. You still weren't sober enough to warn Lucifer that he probably had one drink too many, but that was a problem for later.

"Why not send your little servant to deal with Heaven, hmm? I've seem them dealing with plenty of your problems, i'm sure another burden won't hurt, wouldn't you agree?" A wave of radio static washed over your body as you felt large hands fully encase your shoulders. Alastor's claws were cold against your skin, your shoulders exposed by the drooping of the oversized shirt you wore. When he was drunk, his little quips seemed much more personal.

You let out a sarcastic laugh, carefully pulling your torso away from his grip." Ha ha ha. I'm fine, Alastor. I can handle myself, even against Heaven. If i have to, I could totally deal with an angel!" You bragged, maybe the confidence of alcohol made you respond, maybe something else.

"How about you? Think you can handle an angel, Al?" Lucifer added to your words, his arms across his chest. Alastor's eye twitched, his clawed fingers digging into his dress shirt where he was nearly killed this past extermination. The static in the air crackled louder for a moment, before Alastor spun you around to face him. His hands were planted firmly on either side of the chair, caging you in uncomfortably.

"Oh rest assured, sweetheart, I'm fully capable. If you ever need.. protection.. on one of your little errands, do let me know, hm? Maybe you'll need a gentleman to accompany - " He slowly moved in closer to you, until your could barely hold yourself up, your breath hitching as you lost the strength to handle his exessive teasing. Lucifer ripped on of Alastor's hands away, before pulling you from your seat and holding onto your arms to brace you from the quick movement.

"Back the fuck off, bitch." Lucifer's eyes were glowing a familiar red, his teeth snarling at Alastor, who was standing with a playful glint in his eyes.

"Oh dear, did I make a mistake? Is someone a bit protective? Best not lose this one, your higness!"

Damn, that's cruel, you thought, wincing at his words.

You hadn't even confessed any feelings, not that they were clear to you. You considered being in some sort of romantic relationship with Lucifer as your still not entirely sober mind wandered from the frightening moment.

Before you could realize, you were tossed to the side, stumbling onto the carpetted floor with a light thud. Your vision returned to see a fully demonized Lucifer, gripping Alastor's collar as he yelled out some profanities, puffs of flames leaving his mouth as he spoke. You were completely shocked to see how Alastor stood there with a grin on his face. Like he was enjoying it. You quickly stood to your feet, the adrenaline coursing through your veins being more than enojgh to sober you up.

"Sir! Stop!" You reached out and grabbed Lucifer's sleeve, only to be nudged off a bit forcefully. He definitely wasn't using his full strength to keep you away. This was one of the moments you would step out, Lucifer was always impossible to calm down in this state and the alcohol surely made it worse. He lifted his flame engulfed fist, ready to drive it directly into Alastor's shit eating grin.

"Lucifer!" You finally shouted. He paused, slowly releasing Alastor's shirt and stepping away. He scoffed and didn't even snap his fingers, yet a portal appeared behind him. You could see from the outside that it led to his office.

"You're not worth the trouble anyway, fucker." A final puff of fire left his lips as he stepped through his portal that instantly vanished. It left you alone with Alastor in the lobby, the collar of his shirt and a few of his hairs lightly cinched.

"What the fuck is your problem?? Stay away from me! And him? Leave him alone! Damnit, he doesn't deserve this..!" You huffed, making your way up the stairs. Alastor stood alone, his stature still unphased. His eyes shook and he finally let out a shakey breath once you were out of view.

●○●○●

You recognized where to find him and quickly made your way up to his tower. Sure, it stung that he would just leave you after causing such a scene, but that still didn't stop you from worrying about him.

You opened the office door slowly, peaking in to see an empty office. You stepped in and scanned the area, no sign of the king of Hell. You noticed a soft flicker of light coming from the window and went towards that direction. The large windows of the office opened up, one in particular leading to a small balcony that displayed the Pride Ring as a bustling landscape of city lights.

You let out a soft breath, taking in the view before finally seeing Lucifer sitting on the railing, his hands holding him up. The flickering that led you towards him was the flame that sat at the crown of his head, his demon form still intact. You knew it took him awhile to calm down, but you rarely got the chance to see his powerful features this close. His tail was hung over the railing, swaying like how a cats' would. His wings were fully sprawled out, only moving with his breath and his horns, a vivid red at the tips, tore through his scalp, breaking up the purity of his white flesh. The flame that sat between them was much smaller than before and his eyes were still red, but you could see his yellow irises looking down at the city. His shirt had torn from the back, you assumed with how fast the situation at the bar escalated he didnt properly consider the physical damage he'd cause. In this vision of raw power, just the sight of the back of his neck and shoulder blades peaking from his torn shirt was what made your blush.

He turned his eyes towards you, then looked back to the city, adjusting his wings so you could have some space to stand near him. At least he was welcoming you in. You carefully stepped over the ledge, bracing yourself on the railing as you got a full view of the city. The wind left a much needed cool touch to your face, making you let out a soft sigh. You propped yourself up on your elbows, bending at the hips slightly.

"You know, considering how terrible the people are down there, the city really is beautiful. From a distance." You spoke softly, testing the waters; seeing if he simply needed a distraction from the outburst." Actually, it looks pretty similar to a city on Earth. Not as busy and a lot less bloodshed, but still similar. I've never been, but this is pretty close to the pictures i've seen." You described. Sometimes the mention of Earth was good for him to hear too, so you gave that a shot as well.

"They used to be white. Sometimes in the sunlight, you could even see some gold flecks in there." He finally spoke, his voice hoarse. He stretched out his wings slightly, motioning that those were what he was referring to. You twisted around to fully face his wing that had outstretched in your direction. "They were really beautiful."

"I'n sure they were, sir. Do you like flying? I saw you doing it when you were fighting Adam, you seemed really fast." You spoke softly, deciding not to argue the fact that they were still beautiful in this state. He didn't need to debate right now. "May I?" You let your hand hover just above his feathers, the wind occasionally blowing them into your touch. He nodded, even if he was exhuasted, he still seemed anxious at the idea. You carefully trailed your fingers in the direction of the feathers, now a blood red. They were still unbelievably soft and they essentailly leaned into your touch, as you traced the spine of each feather mindlessly.

Clearing his throat and letting himself calm down from the touch, he did his best to respond." I-I used to. In Eden, I would.. mm... I had to patrol and catalog Adam and - well... any progress or changes.." he stammered out his words, occasionally stopping to let out a quiet hum." I just don't see the point anymore. Plus, it's probably not the safest bet." He let his head fall back for a moment, his wings slowly but surely pulling you towards him.

"What about your tail? And.. your horns? Those only appeared after you.. erm... after you arrived in Hell, right?" You moved on to the lower wing that was closest to you. There were some loose feathers that were sticking in all sorts of direction, so you carefully wiggled those out and continued to comb through the large span of feathers, running your nails along the very top with slight pressure. "Hng.. right, yeah. Those are newer." Was the only response he managed to get out.

"The horns.. did it hurt?" You were almost scared to ask, the idea of horns sprouting through your head and breaking your skin on multiple occasions made you shiver.

You continued to groom his wings as he responded. "T-The first time, yeah. But now, not so much. Or maybe i'm just.. I'm just used to it.. Mmh!" He winced mid sentence, his wings curling in with a jolt. You felt his tail rope itself around your wrist and hold it in place. "Oookay! That was n-nice.. thank you, but- yeahh.. Ahha.. that's enough of that." He chuckled nervously, and you looked over at him after not doing so for awhile. His face was flushed red and his chest was heaving. You couldnt tell if he was hurting or.. "Oh! Sorry! I didn't mean to.. Sorry..." you weren't exactly sure what you were apolgizing for, but considering the possiblities made you turn red.

"Nono, it's fine. It was nice, I promise." He managed to compose himself, but left his tail around your arm loosly. "But, uh, yeah! Yup! Horns are new, Tails' new. The fire's definitely an interesting choice, can't get rid of that even if i tried. And trust me, I tried." He went on, leaning back on the railing and letting his wings tuck in, but still left them in view. You let your head fall to your shoulder, cocking your eyebrow. "Get rid of it? Why? Doesn't it go away on its own?"

"After awhile yeah. But here I am, in a situation where I definitely don't need to use any of this shit - I-I don't know what it's for other than intimidation, but I still can't get it to go away on command. After all this time.. The vodka probably doesn't help either." He huffed, clearly frustrated at his physical appearance. You had taken to fiddling with the tip of his tail as he spoke. You did it much more softly, and it didn't seem as sensitive, so he didn't comment on it. But he still had a red hue across his cheeks and his tail twitched every now and then at certain touches.

You let out a quiet giggle, "It was Whiskey, but yeah i'm sure that didn't help either." You clarified in a teasing sense, then fell comfortably into a silence for a moment. You could just barely hear cars honking, gunshots and music when neither of you spoke.

"Well, if it makes you feel any better, it definitely does the job. You left Alastor shaking in his boots back there." You said with a smile, turning your head to meet his eyes. They were still mostly red, but you could see them softening just at the sight of you.

"Good! He deserves it. Sweetheart, if that prick ever does anything - "

"Don't worry, he won't. You know he only picks on me to get under your skin." You walked your fingers up his arm before seeing his fist clench at the sensation.

"I-I suppose.. I- Uhm... What are you doing..?" He started to sound nervous, but didnt pull away from you. You stopped what you were doing, realizing one hand was sitting on his thigh and the other was making its way up his arm. You yelped and pulled your hands back, placing them on your cheeks just to gauge the heat immiting from your skin.

"I-I don't know! Sorry! M-maybe i'm still drunk..! Yeah, that has to be it.." you stammered, a blushing mess. The sound of his soft chuckle was quick to ease your nerves." Maybe.. it's curiousity... Do you- not to sound weird, say no if i'm wrong - but.. you can- ahh.. touch my horns, too.. if you want - " He wasn't trying to be crude, you could tell he really just wanted to calm you down. Or maybe he just wanted to be touched. You nod your head slowly, keeping your eyes locked on his.

He shifts his positioning to face you, and leans his head down a bit. Taking each of your hands into his own, which were a bit shaky , he pulls them up to meet his intimidatingly tall horns. You basically shut your eyes in anticipation, only opening them back up when you get a good feel. They were smooth, like the surface of a violin, but they felt heavy. You wondered if they felt heavy to him. You carefully menuvered your hands around the fire that was nearly the size of a matches flame at this point, sliding up to the tips. They were ridiculously sharp. It made you more anxious than anything else, they couldve pricked your finger if you werent being careful enough.

"Remind me to remind you how sharp these are. You'll poke someones eye out if you're not careful. Unless that's what you're aiming for, then go for it." You tried speaking to him as you did this to break the intimate silence of the moment.

He let out a nervous laugh. From his view, he could see most of your stomach, more visible than before due to your reach. You actually felt a particularly heavy breath reach your middrift, making you tense up for a moment. Still, lucifer was careful to keep still after the comment on his sharp horns.

You made your way down to where they met his temples, hesitating for a moment before feeling the skin that was stretched over the bone-like features. It felt like scarred flesh. Your felt your heart drop in your chest at the sensation. When he said it hurt the first time.. the horns must've physically ripped through his skin. Without thinking, your hands trailed down to cup his cheeks, making him lift up his head with a questionable expression." So? Did you get your fill?" He asked, a stupid smirk dancing across his face. You scoffed, taking the moment to look into his red eyes. They almost hid the tiredness of his usual colors.

You noticed his eyelids begin to droop and before you knew it, your lips had brushed together in a tender kiss. You pulled him in closer, your hands still planted on his cheeks. He wrapped his arms around your waist and lifted you up to sit on the railings beside him, never breaking contact during the process. He was careful with you, even as you parted your lips to invite a heavier kiss, he held his shut. You pulled away for a moment, moving your hand to his lower lip and just lightly brushing your thumb across it. His breath became heavy at the delicate touch, his grip around your waist falling onto your hips. You left your thumb on his lip and took the opportunity to slide your tongue slowly into his mouth. He yelped, his eyes suddenly shot open at the boldness of your actions. His suddenly limp hands, almost clawing at your hips. His forked tongue eventually made his way into your mouth, still with caution. You felt the fork in his tongue and smiled into his lips, enjoying this new discovery a little too much. He melted into your touch and followed your movements, barely having the strength to keep his head up on his own. You reveled in the moment, before feeling a sharp prick on the tip of your tongue. You pulled away, giving you both a much needed break to breathe.

You run your tongue across the top of your mouth, the smallest taste of blood hitting you."Oh! Fangs!" You quickly exclaimed, the realization hitting you before you could form a real sentence. He stared at you almost dumbfounded, not sure how to respond.

Once you had both composed yourself enough, you noticed that all of his demonics features had retreated, leaving just his wings sprawled out. He let out a satsified hum as you looked into regularly colored yellow and red eyes. You ran your hair through his hair, that had become messy from the horns, and pulled him into another kiss. Lingering for just a moment, you pulled back and smiled, letting your eyes dart across all he features." You're beautiful, Lucifer~" you hummed, your thumb caressing his cheek. You almost couldn't tell, but he did his best to keep any tears from welling in his eyes.

♡♡♡

I wanna work on my multi-part series after all my exams as a heads to you lovely lil people